by Ariana Gael
He coughed as a bite of food went down the wrong way. After a long sip of his drink, he asked, “Why would she think you were having trouble?”
“Well, you know…”
“Yeah, I completely know. I’m just wondering why Brooke would think I don’t know how to help you with it!” They both laughed as Michelle shut off the phone and dropped it back in her purse.
Long after their plates had been emptied and cleared away, they finally stood up to go. Outside in the cold night air, Lars pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, warding off the chill and enjoying the feeling of having her pressed against him.
“It’s not too late for Central Park, but it might have gotten a little bit too cold,” he suggested. “It’s up to you. What would you like to do?”
“Excuse me?” she said with a spirited snarl. “I believe I just won a bet.”
“A bet?” Lars asked, opening his eyes wide and placing one hand on his chest, pretending not to know what she was talking about.
“Yeah. I seem to recall that I got called out for bragging about this bar,” she answered, emphasizing the last word carefully.
“And…so?” he asked, feigning ignorance of their joke.
“Well, I think you did a little bragging of your own in there. Now you need to put your money where your mouth is.”
“Oh, did I? And just what did I brag about?”
“Your amazing ninja-like skills with my zipper.”
That was all the encouragement Lars needed. He signaled for the next taxi he saw and gave the driver his address, whisking Michelle into the cab and holding her on his lap during the heavily trafficked ride, kissing her greedily as they moved in and out of the cars. She turned herself to face him, straddling his lap carefully in a way she never would have thought possible with her timid personality. She kissed him back feverishly, opening her mouth to his tongue as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
This is insane, Michelle thought to herself, even as she ran the fingers of one hand through Lars’ hair, the other hand running up his neck and pulling him closer, deepening their kiss. Part of her was shocked at this new side of her that she seemed determined to show Lars, while one small part of her brain—growing smaller every time the heat from his hands contacted with the bare skin at the small of her back—hesitated in this very new territory.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a black, angry memory bubbled to the surface, the memory of a night filled with fear and a horrible feeling of disconnection with her own body as her mind shut down. A face hovered over hers in her memory, a face she couldn’t see very clearly because of the drug he’d laced her drink with. She had only known who it was the next day when he had the nerve to order her to leave his apartment before his wife came home, refusing to even give her the scraps of clothing he’d cut off of her, mocking her as she cried and telling her they were “special” to him.
Michelle froze for a moment, forcing herself to breathe in loud gasps of air. She covered her panic in a cloak of excitement, moving her hips against Lars’ lap slightly as he worked his way down her neck, pulling back the fabric of her neckline just enough to trail kisses over her collarbone.
Breathe, she reminded herself. This isn’t him, this is someone else, someone wonderful and exciting. And this time it’s my choice.
With her resolve strengthened and the frightening memories forced neatly back in their box where they couldn’t hurt her, Michelle returned to kissing Lars even more hungrily than before. She could feel his excitement pulsing beneath her and knew that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. The car came to a stop, and the driver politely cleared his throat, attempting to ignore the energy passing between his two passengers.
After leaving the cab, Lars hoisted Michelle in his arms and carried her up every flight of stairs, never once breaking the feverish kiss that held both of them captive. He shifted Michelle easily to one arm as he worked his keys in the locks, then quietly shut the door behind them. Lars only had to take three broad steps to place Michelle softly on the only furniture in his sparse apartment, an overstuffed and surprisingly comfortable bed.
“I know,” Lars muttered before Michelle could speak. “I decided to splurge on a really supportive bed instead of going for lots of cheap furniture.
“I think it was a very sensible choice,” Michelle said with mock haughtiness. “A supportive mattress is highly underrated.” Lars laughed along with her, even as he twined a path of heated kisses from her ear to her collarbone, propping himself up on his elbow beside her. She turned towards him and reached for the top button on his shirt, prying it apart slowly and moving forward to kiss the skin that was now exposed. That one kiss nearly caused Lars to come unglued, but he recovered long enough to gently push Michelle back so he could look into her eyes.
“I need to ask you if you want me to take you home,” he began breathlessly.
“Why would I want that?” she asked, confusion causing her brow to wrinkle in concern, worry that she had done something wrong apparent on her face.
“I hope you don’t, but it needed to be said. I want you to stay, but only if this is what you want,” Lars replied in a serious tone. His worry for her broke down the final brick that Michelle had placed around herself, crumbling it to nothing but sand when she realized she had finally met someone whom she could trust, who knew that she had needs too.
“I want to stay with you,” Michelle whispered, pulling Lars closer to her. He shifted so his weight was safely off of her even as he hovered above her, leaning down to kiss her deeply.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“There’s still no answer,” Angela said firmly, her voice shaking only the slightest bit as she spoke.
“Try it again, Ang,” Brooke pleaded, holding tightly to her friend’s arm.
“It won’t help, it just goes to voicemail, just like every other time I called!”
“What about texting her?”
“I’ve already done that. We both did. We texted her a million times.”
“Where is she?” Brooke asked, starting to cry softly before looking over to the corner of their cramped living room.
“I don’t know,” Angela cried, looking truly panicked.
A look passed between them, one that screamed “secret plan.” Angela nodded ever so slightly, hoping the Brooke noticed her tiny motion. Brooke closed her eyes and nodded back with one barely noticeable movement of her head.
“Let me try one last time, maybe she turned her phone back on,” Angela said in a calm voice. She dialed three digits before purposely hitting the end call button and seamlessly dialed the remaining three digits: 9-1-1.
“You’d better hope she answers this time,” snarled Daniel from the corner of the living room. “Because if I can’t have her, she can’t have either of you.” He pulled back the hammer on the dark grey gun that he held pointed in their direction and waited for the phone to pick up.
BOOK TWO TEASER (Chapter One)
Michelle opened her eyes slowly, letting the white glow from an outside streetlight bring the room into focus. Behind her, Lars’ body was pressed against hers, heating her back even as the cool temperature of the small apartment moved in waves around her shoulders. She stirred gently for a moment, only to have Lars pull her even closer, enclosing her in both of his very muscular arms. He murmured something softly and stopped, only to let out a quiet snore a moment later.
She curled up inside his embrace, in awe of how different her night with Lars had been compared to anything like it from before. He had been gentle with her, almost like he knew that someone of his size could snap in two someone as petite as Michelle with only one wrong move. Where even the fumbling attempts her ex-boyfriend Daniel had made at sex—attempts she’d luckily been able to thwart and finally to avoid—had been callous and unromantic, she couldn’t remember a time before last night when she’d felt so alive, so in charge of who she was.
The lingering feeling of the best sex of her life�
��well, of anyone’s life, she was sure of it, since she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience—ran through her body, warming her and making her smile all over again. Last night had been absolutely perfect.
Lars sighed in his sleep, his warm breath drifting across her cheek. She wanted to turn over, but there was no way she was going to move out of his arms. She was safe, appreciated, and finally at peace, a feeling that she hadn’t had in such a long time.
“I thought you were awake,” Lars said huskily in her ear.
“How did you know?” Michelle whispered back, teasing him.
“You stopped snoring,” he answered, his smile coming through in his voice in the dark.
“I do NOT snore!” Michelle answered, swatting playfully at Lars’ thick, toned arm.
“Yes, you do. I’m surprised no one’s ever told you. But I like your snore, it’s cute.”
“Well, no one’s ever told me because I’ve never had a sleepover at a guy’s apartment.”
“Really?” he asked, opening his eyes and trying to see her face in the near dark of the room.
“Why does that shock you? Do I seem like someone who sleeps in a different room every night of the week?” Michelle maintained her joking tone, but was actually a little afraid of what Lars might be thinking of her.
“Of course not! That came out wrong, I think. Please forgive me,” Lars pleaded softly.
“Well, I’ll consider forgiving you. It will take serious amounts of shepherd’s pie and Guinness, though,” she argued, reminding him of the bet she’d won over dinner that evening.
“Done.” He pulled her close and nuzzled her behind her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair as he did so. His lips found the bare skin of her neck and he kissed her, softly at first, but growing more and more insistent when Michelle turned over in his arms and wound her hand behind his neck, pulling him closer to her. Lars pulled her on top of him as they kissed, covering her with both of his arms.
***
Angela slowly pressed the button on the side of her phone repeatedly, lowering the volume in case Daniel could hear the monotone voice coming through the tiny speaker. It faded out to silence just as the woman finished saying, “911, what’s your emergency?”
She held the phone in her hand so that the receiver end pointed upward towards her, but not so much that the man with the gun might notice. Angela squeezed Brooke’s arm as she talked.
“Daniel, I told you already, Michelle’s not here. We don’t know where she went and she’s not answering her phone. You called her too, remember? She’s not picking up. We don’t know where she is,” Angela said, forcing her voice not to shake as she tried to speak loudly enough to be understood by the operator.
“I don’t care what you said! Get her on the phone!” Daniel yelled, still waving the gun in the girls’ direction.
“I don’t know how. But if you would just put the gun down for a second, we can try to talk about where she might have gone.” Angela emphasized the word “gun,” hoping the 911 operator would take action. Brooke began to whimper when she heard the word, as though it all finally became real.
Daniel wasn’t moved by her tears. “Shut up, bitch. If you ladies hadn’t been talking about me, telling her to break up with me, she never would have gone to that muscle-bound shit head. Michelle wouldn’t even think of acting this way if it weren’t for you two.” He flounced back against the couch cushions and amused himself by flicking the safety on and off on the gun in his hand.
Find out what happens next…Book Two of Braving Love is being released early November
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