4 Men Of The House with correct Also By page

by Knight, Natalie

  Jenna studies me for a moment. “Do you love Rose?”

  “Yes!” I exclaim, ready to shout it from the rooftops if I have to.

  That’s when I realize—I didn’t hesitate to profess my love for Rose to Maggie and Jenna. There had never been any doubt as to what I felt for her.

  Determination swells in my heart, and I plead with Jenna one last time, looking into her eyes and searching for any residing compassion and empathy.

  “Come on, Jenna,” I tell her. “The kid isn’t mine, and I need to tell Rose.”

  Finally, after what seems like an eternity of pestering, Jenna caves.

  “Okay,” she sighs and places her hand on the door jam. “I’ll tell you where she is if you promise not to hurt her again.”

  “Never again,” I vow firmly, looking her stone cold in the eyes.

  “She’s at the beach,” Jenna reveals. “Out by Coney Island.”

  I lean in to give Jenna a hug, thanking her and the stars above for helping me in my quest. Jenna reluctantly hugs me back, but I can tell by her eyes that she’s smiling internally and rooting for us.

  I get my driver to bring me out to Coney Island. I wander the beach for a while before I spot her—the woman I’ve given my heart to without knowing it.

  I walk up to her, keeping to the side, so that she won’t notice me right away. Her hair dances around her like billows of strands stretching out to the sky, like feathers reaching for the sea.

  The early morning hues of the sky reflect a pinkish purply glow around Rose that makes her dauntingly magnificent.

  I approach her carefully and stand just above where she has her knees tucked up to her chest and her toes curled into the sand.

  “May I sit?” I request.

  Rose stills for a second before she glances at me briefly. Then, she sets her eyes back on the Atlantic horizon. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t get up and walk away either, so I take that as a step in the right direction.

  I grunt and crouch down on the sand beside her. “You don’t have to say anything,” I begin. “I know you’re really mad at me. Just hear me out for a minute. Let me explain everything.”

  Rose doesn’t flinch or blink. She continues to look out at the scope of the ocean as the waves swell and crash to the shore.

  “The kid isn’t mine,” I tell her. “The DNA test was negative. Maggie was just trying to trap me. Whatever we had between us was long gone, even before you came.”

  Confusion appears on Rose’s face. She stands up and begins to walk away, but I’ve come too far to lose her now.

  I try to walk beside her, but she pushes me away.

  “Stop it!” she screams. “Leave me alone!”

  I do as she says and allow her to wander a few steps ahead.

  “Rose!” I shout to her on the empty beach. “Come back here. I love you, dammit!”

  Rose halts in her tracks, her tiny footprints leaving a trail in her wake. She slowly spins around and gives me a quizzical look.

  “I love you!” I declare again, not only to her but to the whole fucking world if it wants to hear. I raise my hands above my head and profess it with vigor. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”

  Finally, I notice the faintest smile cross her lips, but it’s so subtle under the fresh morning sunlight that it’s hard to see.

  Then, out of nowhere, Rose doubles over and begins retching, dry heaving and clutching the sand.

  “Rose?” I jog up to help her and, in that instant, she vomits all over the fucking beach.

  Rose

  “Rose, are you okay?”

  Daniel’s hand tenderly resting on my shoulder is like a strong cup of coffee, waking me up from the dull, lifeless week I had hiding out on the beach.

  I enjoy the feeling so much that I don’t respond right away—especially once the feeling starts evolving. The feel of Daniel’s touch, which I haven’t felt in a fucking long time, is sending little shivers from my shoulder to my toes.

  Heat flows through me as well, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact I just vomited right on the fucking sand.

  Blech! It’s right between Daniel’s feet and mine—but I don’t want to look at it anymore.

  So, at last, I raise my head, and meet Daniel’s pleading eyes. His touch and those eyes obliterate all the bullshit, all the torment I’ve been putting myself through for days.

  And all the suspicion and wariness that began weighing on me the instant I saw his face on the beach is crumpling down to nothing in the face of this feeling…

  “Daniel, I feel great.”

  “But...”

  “I don’t know why I threw up, and I’m not even sure why I feel great now...”

  “I love you.”

  That’s why.

  “Could you say it again?”

  “Rose, I love you.”

  He’s the damn medicine man.

  “That’s it, that’s why. I know it’s not rational, and if you asked me five minutes ago...”

  “I love you, and I mean it, Rose.”

  “One more time.”

  “I love you.”

  “I...” I shake my head in disbelief, feeling hot, feeling lighter than air. Daniel leans in and gently kisses me on the cheek.

  I lean into Daniel, wrapping my arms around him. He closes his arms delicately around me, moving in more closely and landing a feather-light, ethereal kiss by my ear.

  “You were saying?” he whispers.

  “I...I love you, too.” I chuckle softly, and Daniel does the same. As I laugh a bit more and let my head fall onto Daniel’s chest, teardrops fall one after another from my eyes.

  What began as a delicate embrace grows naturally into a warm hug, as we prop each other up in the sand.

  The realization is instant, yet the fullness of it dawns over me slowly and beautifully: This is where I belong.

  So I stay there, in Daniel’s arms, feeling the sea breeze waft around us, listening to the seagulls and the crashing waves, hearing the distant sounds of joyous beach-goers and Cyclone riders, relishing in just how obvious it is.

  Yet, I wouldn’t mind hearing it one more time.

  “Say it again, please?”

  “Rose, I love you.”

  I release a couple more joyous, tearful laughs.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Rose?” Daniel asks.

  “I love you.”

  For me, those words are like a cure for both of us.

  We slide slightly away from each other as the sounds of loud, boisterous crowds start to grow closer, the beach getting more crowded.

  Daniel and I are not ready to leave this spot quite yet. He gazes down at me, and I return the look, beholding his gorgeous face and his eyes, seeing that he’s shed a few tears of his own.

  How long had we been standing together on the beach? I don’t know, and I don’t care.

  “Really, Rose,” Daniel begins, “the whole thing was just...”

  “Hush. It doesn’t matter, and you explained it perfectly.”

  “I love you.”

  “Just like that.”

  We laugh, and I watch Daniel’s face transform as a magnificent smile graces his lips.

  “What do you want to do right now, Rose? Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  “Then please do.”

  “I need to brush my teeth first. Remember?”

  We both look at the sand. We somehow shifted, unconsciously, away from the spot where I threw up. We look at each other and burst into laughter once more.

  “If you insist.”

  “I insist. That’s what I want to do right now: brush my teeth.”

  Daniel nods as he contemplates my desire.

  “As I said, I will make that happen. That is entirely doable.”

  “Hey, I can make that happen. I’ve got a toothbrush in my loft and everything. I even have toothpaste!”

  “You rented a loft?”


  “Come on, how did you find me?”

  I start walking towards the building, and I grab Daniel’s arm so he stays with me.

  I know things are changing fast. It’s crazy. A few minutes and a few words can transform your entire world just like that.

  “Jenna told me Coney Island, so here I am.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s not like you were hard to find.”

  Fuck, maybe there’s a reason I chose a vacation rental that’s even closer than the airport.

  “Don’t downplay your sleuthing skills.”

  Daniel deftly shifts his arm out of my hand, and laces our fingers together.

  Then, he looks at me with that smile, and I feel the heat and weightlessness as strongly as ever.

  “You don’t mind me tracking you down?”

  “No, not this time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re showing me where I belong.”

  Daniel looks away, nodding like he understands but clearly trying to figure out what the hell I mean.

  To tell the truth, I’m not sure myself, but I almost start crying again when I say it.

  The weather’s especially nice today, and the crowds around Coney Island are growing large and rowdy. Things are starting to get crazy crowded when we finally walk into the loft building.

  “Not bad,” Daniel comments when we walk into the loft. “What is this, an Airbnb?”

  “A lady never tells. Now, excuse me while I go brush my fucking teeth.”

  I do a little spin while walking to the bathroom. I’m actually starting to like this place, a change of heart that evolved over the last thirty seconds since I walked through the door with Daniel.

  I go into the bathroom by myself and feel a pang of apprehension that being alone in the bathroom is somehow going to break the spell of the outdoors, that I’ll suddenly start revisiting the uncertain—and maybe even the misery of the past few days now that I’m out of the enchanting seaside air.

  I give my teeth a thorough brushing, and it doesn’t happen. I still feel warm and excited at the thought of what the future holds—and even warmer and a bit tingly at the thought of tomorrow.

  Just to be sure of both my feelings and my oral hygiene, I floss and then rinse with mouthwash for a full minute.

  I feel even warmer, even more tingly—this is where I belong.

  Well, to be more accurate, where I belong is in the room with Daniel, who’s being very quiet out there.

  “You’re still here!” I cry out joyfully as I leave the bathroom. Daniel’s sitting on the cheap little loveseat, resting his arm on the back.

  “Of course I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Nothing could move me.”

  “Is that so?”

  I jump onto the loveseat and land on Daniel’s lap.

  “Still not moving,” he whispers about a split second before I start the kiss I’ve been waiting for.

  We both dive into it deeply, our lips and tongues desperate for a profoundly passionate kiss. Daniel falls slowly onto his back as I push against him and explore his mouth aggressively with my tongue.

  After Daniel’s flat on his back, I climb on top of him and draw my tongue slowly from his mouth. I raise my head up just enough to look him in the eye.

  “You still not moving?” I ask in a low growl.

  “I could try…”

  I grab Daniel’s shoulders and hold him down on the couch, pushing myself up slightly while pushing my lower half against his cock, which has grown long and incredibly hard in his pants.

  “What was that?” I ask with a grin.

  “Argument conceded.”

  I hold onto Daniel’s shoulders, but he’s able to reach up and gently stroke my hair. That sends a serious shiver of heat through me, and I ease my grip.

  Daniel’s hand moves down to my tits, and he starts teasing the area around my nipples through my t-shirt.

  “Fuck!” I yell, longing to get out of my clothes quicker than I can tear them off. “Hold on!”

  I rip the shirt up over my head and fling it as hard as I can towards the bathroom door.

  “So, we’re doing that now?” Daniel reaches down and starts removing his own shirt.

  “That’s right. Let’s get a move on.”

  I start undoing my bra when the sight of Daniel’s bare pecs lobs me into a hypnotic state. My hands cannot do anything but fall onto them, and Daniel helps out by unfastening my bra as I run my hands up and down his chest and stomach, taking in every detail of his beautifully toned muscles.

  A barely audible little moan escapes me as I move my hands up and down Daniel’s chest, then his abs, going a little lower each time, as he teases my tits.

  I moan more loudly, and so does Daniel, when my hands reach his waist and the bottom of my palms come to rest tantalizingly close to his stiff, throbbing member—still enclosed in his pants.

  “I’m so fucking wet,” I manage to say through labored breathing.

  “You don’t fucking say.”

  Daniel starts sitting up, and I move with him until we’re both up against the couch and revisiting that earlier kiss.

  After a few minutes, Daniel leans back and asks an important question.

  “Does this place come with a bedroom, or what?”

  Daniel

  We’re both under the spell now.

  I wasn’t feeling it yet, not like this, when I was just wandering around Coney Island, searching hopelessly for Rose...for my love.

  It sounds fucking cheesy, I know, but I already said that I’m under the spell. We both are.

  It clicked for me, under today’s brilliantly blue sky, with the waves lapping against the shore, breathing the salty air. I was under the spell—and I still am now.

  I had felt it ever since I first laid eyes on Rose in that quirky little tea shop, and I had felt it when I shouted that I loved her at the top of my lungs.

  But it wasn’t until after she got sick on the sand, and I ran over in a haze of concern...it wasn’t until after she asked me to say those words again...

  That’s when I went under the spell by the ocean—and I’m still there.

  I’m still so very much fucking there.

  I’m so there that I almost walked around Rose’s rental with my sand-caked shoes, before I threw them out in the hallway while she was in the bathroom.

  And now, well, we’re both losing a lot more of our clothes, stumbling into the bedroom of Rose’s Coney Island vacation rental.

  “You’re so fucking lucky I extended this for one more night,” she informs me.

  “I’ve never felt luckier,” I agree.

  I’m trying to undo my belt so I can get my damn pants off my stupid, eager body.

  For once, my cock is not showing any signs of slowing down its unbounded enthusiasm. Goddamn, I must really be in fucking love.

  “Having some trouble?” Rose purrs in a sugary voice that holds a maddeningly sexy edge just below the surface.

  “Not at all.” I’m still fumbling with my blasted belt buckle in the doorway to Rose’s loft’s bedroom.

  “I can’t take it anymore,” Rose shrieks, and she charges towards me with her hands out.

  I throw my own hands up in surrender, which is the right decision because Rose needs room to grab the waist of my pants like it’s a steering wheel.

  With her hands gripped securely onto my pants and belt, Rose begins pulling me ferociously back in the direction she came from, over to the bed in the middle of the room.

  I am not objecting to Rose’s pulling on any level; in fact, I’m assisting her in the best way I can by trotting in the bed’s direction. She decides to throw me for a loop, though, when she twists me around to her left side and tries to throw me onto the bed.

  I oblige by leaping in that direction.

  I end up falling on my side, on top of the noisy spring mattress.

  Rose falls with me, landing on her side, facing me while we listen to the spri
ngs buckle under our weight.

  “This is going to be a noisy one,” I say with a chuckle.

  “Wanna bet?” Rose challenges before grabbing at my pants again, with a renewed intensity.

  I let her do her thing, and this time she succeeds in getting the damn things down, all the way past my knees, letting my rigid cock pop up freely into the bedroom air.

  Rose’s hands, both of them, go straight for my cock.

  With the starved look in her eye, I expect her to wrap her hands around my shaft immediately. Keeping that hungry, determined look in her eye, she throws me for another loop by gently feeling my cock with her fingertips, moving them lightly and slowly all around my member.

  I utter some nonsensical sound as I close my eyes in ecstasy.

  Rose mimics my mumblings, and I open my eyes to see her sassy smirk as she tightens her hold on my cock.

  I reach down and undo the button on Rose’s jeans as we both rotate into a better position—one in which we’re both completely on the bed.

  I move my fingers gradually into Rose’s panties as she starts working my cock with more vigor. It turns out that she is indeed so fucking wet.

  “Oh, fuck,” she moans, and finally grips my cock with conviction. “Keep going, please!”

  My fingers continue on their slow, careful path, teasing Rose’s pussy lips coyly, staying just out of reach of her clit. Her soft moans grow in volume.

  Rose’s hands drop away from my cock as she loses focus. I know she’s almost there.

  “Wait,” she pants, and pulls down her jeans and panties entirely, which makes me start to lose focus.

  But I try to stay on course. I watch Rose’s spectacular cinnamon eyes as I pick up where I left off.

  Rose belts out a giggly shriek when I start teasing her lips again. I slow the pace of my fingers more and more as I get closer to her clit.

  “Oh, Daniel, come the fuck on,” she scolds me quietly.

  Then it all starts happening at a rapid-fire pace.

  What I intend to do is start running my fingers at a glacial tempo, taking all the time I need to send Rose into new, uncharted states of escalating, unquenchable desire until she finally succumbs to the abyss of a mind-blowing orgasm.