by M. H. Soars
The elevator pings, and before the doors slide open I’m out of there in a flash, only stopping by the triage desk to ask where Saylor’s room is. The nurse stationed there only has a chance to point before I take off in a mad run again. I don’t know how I still have the stamina after running a 5K in fifteen minutes.
I’m going so fast I almost miss her room entirely. Skidding to a halt, I enter her room without knocking. With tunnel vision, I see nothing but the love of my life in a hospital bed once again. At least she’s awake and sitting up this time. There are other people in the room, but they could be vapor for all I care.
“Saylor!” I yell.
“Ollie, you’re here.”
I stop next to her bed, kissing her cheeks and lips repeatedly to make sure she’s really okay.
“Sugar, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“Ollie, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“How are the ba—are they okay?” God, if something happened to them, I’m going to lose my mind for real.
Saylor turns to the cot next to her bed, and I feel like an arsehole for not noticing it sooner. There’s a tiny little baby in there, wrapped in a pink blanket.
“Would you like to hold her?” Saylor asks.
“I-I should wash my hands first.”
“You look like you need a shower. Did you run here?” She smiles at me.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
I turn toward the sink, and it’s then that I notice the other people in the room: Saylor’s mother… and Derek. I stop in my tracks, glancing over my shoulder at Saylor with a question in my eyes.
“He’s the pediatrician taking care of our son, so be nice,” she says.
Spinning on my heel, I face Saylor again. I was so overwhelmed with it all that I didn’t realize there was only one cot in the room. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“What happened to our son? Where is he?”
Derek proceeds to explain what’s going on, but it’s all a bunch of medical gibberish that doesn’t make any sense to me. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to calm the fuck down. I held it together until know, I can keep from unraveling for a while longer.
“Can I see him?” I ask after Derek finishes his report.
“Yes, in a little while. I’ll come back to get you both. Your babies are beautiful. Congratulations,” Derek says.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I hug the guy, my best mate’s archenemy.
“Thanks for taking care of my son.”
The young doctor remains stiff for a couple of seconds, obviously surprised by my behavior. He then taps me on the back and steps away.
“No need to thank me. I was just doing my job.”
He steps out of the room, and my mother-in-law follows him. I guess everyone wants to give me a bit of privacy so I can meet my daughter properly. Suddenly, I’m nervous for different reasons. Saylor already has the little bundle in her arms, watching me with a tiny smile on her lips.
Swallowing the big lump in my throat, I wash my hands before approaching the bed. She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen. She looks so much like Saylor. Her big eyes are open, the color a vivid blue, just like mine.
“She’s fucking perfect, sugar.”
“Would you like to hold her?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Fold your arms like mine, and make sure her head is supported.”
Saylor transfers the baby into my shaking arms, and I fight to keep from bawling my eyes out. Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve turned into Sebastian.
“Hello, gorgeous. It’s me, your daddy.”
Adeline opens her tiny mouth and yawns before closing her eyes. “I don’t think she’s that impressed with me.” I look up to find Saylor crying. “What’s up, sugar?”
She wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t know. I’m just so emotional. I wish our little boy was here too.”
“He’ll be here soon. We need to pick a name for him.”
“I know. How about Michael?”
“Michael? That was never a contender before.”
Saylor averts her eyes and bites her lower lip. It’s her ‘I’m guilty’ signal.
“Sugar?”
“Please don’t hate me. Michael is Derek’s middle name, and I thought that after everything he’s done for me, for our son, it would be a nice homage. Since not everyone knows his middle name is Michael, hopefully it won’t upset Bas so much?”
I don’t say anything for a couple of beats. Loyalty to Sebastian is screaming at me to shut down the idea, but I don’t completely hate it.
“Michael is a nice name,” I finally say.
“So, you’re not totally against it?” Saylor peers at me with hopeful eyes.
“No. If you want to name our son after your friend, I’m cool with that. Michael is way better than Derek, anyway. Just don’t tell Bas.”
Saylor shakes her head. “It’ll be our family secret.”
“Family. Bloody hell. We’re truly a family now. Speaking of which, where’s Harry and Charlotte?”
“Harry went to the cafeteria for food, and I don’t know about Charlotte. We did call her though.”
She’d better have a good excuse to not be here already. I look down at my daughter. “Don’t worry, sweet Adeline. You don’t need my airhead sister. You have a bunch of cooler aunties to pick from.”
“You got that right. I can already see Emma fighting with everyone else for the title of coolest aunt in town.”
Thirty-Four
SAYLOR
A MERRY SURPRISE
I hear the sound of a baby crying, but I refuse to open my eyes. I shouldn’t have had alcohol last night. It was the first time since the twins were born and boy, I’m not used to it anymore. It feels like I drank an entire box of wine instead of just a glass.
It doesn’t take long for the wail of one baby to turn into two. We just moved them to their nursery room, and it seems they’re rebelling against it.
“They must be hungry,” Oliver whispers in my ear.
“I pumped yesterday. There’s still milk left in the fridge.”
“But there are two babies and I’m only one.”
“Get Harry to help. He needs to earn his keep.”
Oliver chuckles before kissing my cheek. “All right, sugar. Consider it one of your Christmas gifts.”
I fall back asleep immediately, not waking until much later when Oliver comes into the room and opens the curtains. Bright light pours in and I hide under the covers. “I’m not up yet.”
“Oh yes, you are. It’s already past ten in the morning. The twins are fed, changed, and ready to go.”
“Ready to go where?” Oliver pulls the cover off me, tossing it to the floor. “Hey!”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me. Get your arse out of bed. Now!”
“Why are you yelling at me?” I place a pillow over my head, knowing it’s futile.
Oliver grabs me by the ankles and pulls me toward the edge of the bed. I let out a whimper. “You’re so mean.”
He lets go of my ankles to sprawl his hands over my hips. I stop complaining in an instant. “Would you still think I’m mean if I did this?” He sweeps his tongue near the edge of my panties, making me fully awake in an instant.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“How about now?” He pulls the fabric of my underwear aside and repeats the action, licking my clit this time. Oh yeah, I’m wide awake now, and horny as hell.
“Please stop talking.”
He chuckles, fanning hot air over my bundle of nerves. Shit, it won’t take much for him to drive me over the edge. He sucks my clit into his mouth while he teases my entrance with his index finger. He’s not wasting any time, going through the motions that will sure as hell make me come faster than lightning. Oliver pushes another finger inside, applying pressure in just the right spot while driving me insane with this tongue. I cover my face with the pillow again to muffle the sound of
my cries of pleasure. Oliver is relentless and won’t stop fucking me with his fingers and mouth until I’m completely boneless on the bed.
He puts my underwear back in place before pulling the pillow off my face. “All right. Shower now.”
Leaning on my elbows, I let my gaze drop to his crotch. “Do you want to join me?”
Oliver looks at the clock on the nightstand and then at me. Where does he want to go in such a hurry? He narrows his eyes at me before pulling his sweater and T-shirt off in one fell swoop. “Fine. You know I can’t resist a bloody shower with you.”
An hour later, we’re pulling up in front of Liv and Sebastian’s new home. I turn to Oliver. “What are we doing here? I don’t remember them inviting us over.”
“They didn’t. There isn’t where we’re going.” He doesn’t elaborate further before he gets out of the car.
I follow him, taking Adeline out of her car seat while Oliver does the same with Michael. Adeline is asleep and remains so, but Michael is wide awake and making cooing sounds. Oliver walks past our friend’s house to take the path toward their neighbor’s front door. There’s a big red bow hanging from it instead of the usual Christmas ornament. When Oliver pulls a key from his pocket and dangles it in front of me, things finally click.
“Ollie, what have you done?”
“I was listening when you mentioned Renegades HQ was getting too crowded. I wanted to find the perfect house before the twins’ arrival, but well, they were in a bit of a hurry.”
“Are you saying you bought this house? We’re going to be Liv and Sebastian’s neighbors?”
“You got that right, sugar. Happy Christmas.”
I have no words, so I just stare at my beautiful husband with my heart stuck in my throat. He finally opens the front door to reveal not an empty house but a fully decorated space.
“Please don’t be mad that I decorated the living room. I promise I left the rest of the house intact.”
“You even got a Christmas tree? Wait, is that the one we had at Renegades?”
“Yup. I brought it here this morning while you overslept. What do you think?”
“Ollie, this is gorgeous.”
“So, you aren’t upset?”
I glance around, wondering what in the world I could be upset about. “This is the best Christmas gift in the world. Thank you.”
Oliver stands next to me, throwing his arm over my shoulder. “No, thank you. For putting up with my bullshit, for giving me our beautiful children. Thank you for loving me.”
I glance at him, my vision blurry from unshed tears. “How could I not when I was made for loving you, baby, and you were made for loving me?”
Oliver’s eyes twinkle with mischief before he gives me one of his famous fire-inducing kisses. Many thoughts bounce in my head, but there’s one that stands out the most.
We’ll be happy here.
*** THE END (FOR REAL) ***
GOOD INTENTIONS
STICKS AND ALLAN’S STORY
The perfect gentleman? Check. The reliable business partner? Check. The poster child for southern morals? Check. I may be the Prince of Nashville, but I’m no saint. I just hide the taint well. There’s only one person who has seen how bad I can be, who knows the real me. I wish I could say the same about her.
I thought I had Sticks figured out when we were younger, but the woman of today is a mystery. She captivates me like no other, and the more I fight the pull, the more I don’t want to. But my attraction to the talented drummer can put everything I worked for in jeopardy. It can ruin lives, including hers. The problem is, I’m tired of being good. I want to be bad again.
*
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BOOTY PREVIEW
This preview has not been proofread
Chiara Moretti. Angel or devil? When she rescued me from the side of the road, I thought she was the former. A gorgeous young woman with a difficult family, she had me wrapped around her finger in an instant. We both agreed to share a no-strings attached, sexy weekend in Tuscany. I didn’t expect not being able to erase her from my mind. The memory of our time together was what kept me sane while I had to deal with the harsh reality back home.
*
I longed to see Chiara again but I didn’t expect to have my wish granted. She’s back into my life in the most complicated way possible. Chiara is here, within reach, watching me with her fiery eyes and devious mouth. Tempting me, torturing me. But I can’t have her, I can’t even be near her, not when she’s one of my students and all I want to do is fuck her until she forgets her own name.
CHAPTER ONE - CHIARA
Plastering a fake smile on my face, I power through the courtyard, greeting whoever is in my way with a cheery hello. The huge box in my hands is heavy, but it serves as a shield, since I’m about to enter a mined zone. Inside my grandparents’ villa is chaos central. Italians as a rule can’t congregate under one roof without mayhem. Add to that wedding preparations, and earplugs are required if you don’t want to go deaf. The cacophony of several voices competing to be the loudest is not what bothers me; it’s the people responsible for the noise. A viper’s pit is a great allusion to describe the Moretti family.
Distant family members and strangers alike greet me as I stride toward the double doors that lead to the back of the main house. Before I take the steps down and join the fray of people working furiously to make sure my cousin’s wedding is perfect, I pause to take in the sight. The breathtaking panoramic view of the rolling Tuscan mountains is one of the few positive aspects of coming to Villa Moretti. If only this place wasn’t spoiled by my rotten family.
The loud voice of Aunt Laura giving hell to someone brings me back from my reverie. I quickly find her shouting at a poor caterer. Her arm shakes as she points a chubby finger at the guy’s face. I don’t know what he did, but it’s released the vicious beast that lives inside dear Auntie. I’d better stay the hell away from her.
Quickly taking the steps down into the backyard, I set the box with flower arrangements on a table nearby and search for the only thing that will help me cope with today’s festivities. Alcohol. I scan the outside area, finding my favorite cousin, Max, already behind the temporary bar set up for the occasion. The corners of my lips twitch upward when I see what’s in his hand—a bottle of Prosecco. He wastes no time. I make a beeline in his direction, and, as if sensing my approach, he raises his head. His full lips twist into his trademark smirk, the one that makes him one of the highest paid male models in the world.
“Oh, hello there, Chibi.”
“Starting early, aren’t you?”
Max shrugs right before he pops the bottle of Prosecco open. “What can I say? I need liquid courage to endure events like these.”
He grabs two glasses and fills them up, almost to the brim. Practicality over classiness is Max’s motto, much to his mother’s dismay.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, give me a break. You love weddings. All those desperate single women, hoping to find their prince charming. It’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
Max grants me a toothy grin. “Not this time. I think I’ve slept with all of Paola’s friends.”
Before I can open my mouth, Max continues. “The fuckable ones, I mean.”
“You’re horrible. One day you’ll find the girl who will bring you down to your knees. I hope I’m around to witness your fall.”
Bringing the glass of Prosecco to my lips, I drink the whole thing in one gulp. The cool, fizzy beverage is a relief to my parched throat, but it does nothing to ease the pang in my chest. I should have told Pietro how I felt before my cousin Paola swooped in for the kill. I had all the chances, he was one of my closest friends after all, but I choked.
“You’ll be waiting a long time.” Max pauses and stares intently at me. His scrutinizing gaze unnerves me, and I have an inkling to what he’s thinking. “So, how are you holding on, cuz?”
Pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about, I frown, signaling
with a wave of my hand for him to fill my glass again. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you better than you know yourself.”
I scowl at Max, right before I bring the once again full glass of Prosecco to my lips. I’m glad the alcohol is already helping me relax. Today is going to be murder, just as expected.
“Listen, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“I don’t know what you’re taking about.” I turn my back to Max, pretending to observe the wedding’s preparations. Irritation simmers just below my skin. Why does Max have to be such a busybody?
“You don’t need to pretend with me, Chibi. I’m not blind. Pietro had all the chances in the world, and he chose Paola over you. He’s not your guy. He has never been your guy. You’re amazing, and he’s second-rate.”
Max’s words make something clench in my chest and tears prickle my eyes. I want to believe his words, but today it’s almost impossible. If I’m all that, then how come Pietro is marrying Paola? Fuck. What’s up with Max and this sensitive bullshit conversation?
“I know I’m amazing, okay?” I reply feebly.
I’m so full of shit. My only consolation in this whole mess is that Max is the only one in my family who paid enough attention to see my true feelings toward Pietro. Everyone else, including Paola, seem oblivious.
“I’ve told you before, I’d tap you if you weren’t my cousin.”
Whipping my face in his direction, I glare at him. “Eww. Why do you have to be so gross?”
“Chiara? Is that you?”
“Cazzo! It’s Mother.” I scramble to finish my drink before striding toward her. It’s best if she doesn’t interact with Max. He loves to antagonize her. But then, I’m the one who has to deal with the woman.
My face is probably flushed when I stop in front of Ofelia Moretti, a former Miss Italia who still retains her pageant-days poise and beauty. Her perfectly arched eyebrows would furrow if her forehead wasn’t frozen by Botox, but the pinch of her lips and the displeasure in her gaze is enough of a hint that I’m about to receive some negative comment. With a tsking sound, she grabs a strand of my hair. “You look ghastly. Instead of drinking with Max, you should have done something about your appearance.”