I’m on my hands and knees in the spare bedroom at the lake house, pulling out boxes from underneath the bed.
“This would have been easier on my knees if we’d gotten rid of the bed first.”
“I’m just glad your sister visited, and took everything she wants so I don’t have to feel bad about throwing stuff away,” she says.
“It’s hard throwing away everything.”
“You should let me do it all, I’m not emotionally attached to any of it.”
“Not even this?” I ask, holding up a drawing of a bunny rabbit I did in grade school.
Eloise smiles, and snatches the drawing from my hand. “We’re keeping this, it’s adorable and perfect to hang on the wall in the nursery. I’m going to get it framed.”
I laugh, and go back to hauling out shit from under the bed. I ignored clearing out this room as long as I could. Everything in it is a time capsule of my life from before my mother died.
I couldn’t face thinking about how wonderful my life was back then when my present life was anything but. But now with Eloise, I can let go and move on. Except I’ve been too busy enjoying Eloise for the past year that I haven’t bothered to clear out the room. We never needed it before now.
We’ve decided that we want to live here full time and commute to Rochester so we can raise our child in our little slice of paradise. Now we have to get the room ready for the baby.
The baby was planned, but we only just found out Eloise is pregnant last week, on her parents’ anniversary.
They say not to tell anyone until three months but we were both so excited that we announced it at her parents’ anniversary dinner.
“I swear this is the hottest Memorial Day weekend ever,” Eloise says, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand.
“Let’s take a break,” I say, standing.
I walk into the kitchen and grab us two cold beers from the fridge. I pause, put them back and instead take out two bottles of lemonade.
Eloise’s parents were ecstatic when they found out they were going to be grandparents.
They’ve been nothing but understanding and welcoming to me, and I can’t imagine better grandparents for my child to have. It took several months for me to accept the past but we took things slowly, and now I’m honored to be a part of their family.
Miranda seems to have healed as well. It’s like we helped each other accept a tragic situation without blame.
The doorbell rings, and Eloise says, “I’ll get it.”
Carrying the drinks, I walk into the living room. A FedEx man is at the door, and one of the drinks nearly slips out of my hand. There’s only one thing I’m expecting to be sent to this address, or at least hoping will be sent.
“I’ll take it,” I say, pulling the small package from Eloise’s hand.
“Is it the new handle sample for the kitchen cupboards?” she asks, staring at the package, waiting for me to open it.
“It’s nothing,” I say, trying to make her lose interest. “Here’s your drink, let’s go outside and chill out.”
I’m desperate to open the package but I set it on the couch, and herd Eloise outside, into the sunshine.
“Man, it’s hot out here.” She pulls her tank top off, revealing her flimsy bikini top. It looks even more flimsy since her boobs are already bigger from the pregnancy.
Purple lilacs cover her rib cage beside her right breast. As soon as I knew she wanted to be inked, I started designing tattoos for her. I want to drape flowers all down the right side of her body. The flowers and leaves look real, and she’s like a forest princess. It’s my best work.
I can’t resist touching her, and brush my fingers over the lilacs. Eloise tilts her head and smiles coyly.
“I’m going to sit by the lake. Coming?” she asks, swaying her hips as she walks across the lawn.
“In a minute,” I say, thinking of the FedEx package.
I pass her my drink to carry down to the lounge chairs, and turn back to the house. My heart hammers against my chest as I enter the house.
My father is the only person who would ever mail something to this address. Everything normally goes to my tattoo parlor.
I sent him an email a month ago, telling him how I’d moved on with my life and that he should too. He didn’t send an email back. Nothing. Silence, just like he’s been every day since my mother died.
My hands shake as I rip open the package. Inside is a handwritten note, the writing shaky:
Son,
I’m glad to hear things are going well for you. You’re right, you deserve this more than I do. You deserved more than I was ever able to give you. At least I can give you this. I hope it brings you as much happiness as it brought me.
That’s it, there’s no signature, there’s no return address. I still have no idea where he’s living.
A scrunched-up piece of paper is taped to the bottom of the page. I peel it off and unfolded it, knowing what’s inside it.
Dozens of possibilities rush through my mind. In the end I decide I can’t wait any longer.
I rush out of the house and down to the lake. Eloise is stretched out on the lounge chair, the endless lake in front of her.
Without stopping to find the right words, I perch myself on the side of her lounge chair.
“What’s up? Is everything okay? You look weird,” she says.
I try to relax my jaw, and clear my throat.
“Everything is more than okay. Everything is perfect, because you’re in my life.” I slide off the chair, and kneel on the grass beside her. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Eloise Hutchinson, will you marry me?”
I open my hand, and reveal the ring sitting on my palm. My mother’s ring. I didn’t look at it closely in the house, I was too surprised that my father actually sent it to think about anything else. It’s as amazing as I remember it, one big round diamond solitaire on a white gold band.
“Yes,” Eloise cries, flying out of her chair and throwing her arms around me.
I take her hand and slide the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly.
She holds her hand out, admiring the ring.
“That’s what came in the package,” I say.
“Where from?” she asks and gasps, “Oh, is this your mother’s?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding.
Eloise nestles her head against mine. “It’s beautiful. I feel so honored.”
“I’m the one who’s honored. You came back into my life and made everything good again.”
Holding her chin, I crush my lips against hers. She whimpers, and I lay her down on the grass, and move over her. I trail kisses down her neck and swollen breasts, making my way down her body to give her another mind-blowing orgasm or two. Orgasms that are even stronger with her piercing.
THE END
Thank you for reading Pierce Me, I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing it!
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I’ve included two bonus books for you. Both are complete, full length novels.
I’ve chosen them because they are regular guys - not a billionaire in sight!
And if you liked piercings, Steel in Carny has, shall we say, a rather unique one. Carny is my personal favorite book I’ve ever written, and I’m sure you’ll love it.
I’ve also included BESTSELLING Lip Service for you to enjoy.
Happy reading!
Simone xoxo
Carny: A Bad Boy Small Town Romance
Different town every week mean
s a different woman in my bed. No complaints here. That’s how I f*cking want it.
One look of my handsome smile has them weak in the knees. One touch of my rock hard muscles has their panties dropping. One night of pounding with my pierced, tattooed c*ck and they beg me to stay.
But when the weekend’s over, I move on to the next town, and next woman.
Until Emily.
One look at the beautiful blonde and I know she’s the one I want in this town. One taste of her innocence and I need more.
The last thing she wants is anything to do with me; she know’s I’m nothing but trouble — until a fight with her parents pushes her straight into my arms.
I’ll be damned if I’m letting her walk away, no matter what her rich parents think of their precious princess with a bad boy.
I finally have a woman I wanna keep. I’m not letting her go.
*** A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot alpha. No cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***
Epigraph
Never opened myself this way. Life is ours, we live it our way
Metallica
Ride to Live, Live to Ride (Steel)
“Cocksucker, watch what you’re doing!” Whiskey yells, snapping his hand away from the Ferris wheel car and shaking it.
“Kill it, Whiskey,” I say. “I know what the fuck I’m doing better than anyone here. Pay attention, you might learn something.” I’ve spent ten years in the carnival, there’s nothing I don’t know better than everyone else here.
“If you know what you’re doing, why’d you push it when my finger was still in the slots?” Whiskey says, pushing his long hair away from his eyes.
“Shithead, even greenies know not to stick their finger in the slots. That is what a screwdriver’s for.” I grunt as I adjust the hundred-pound pig iron in my hands.
“What’s the matter, Steel? Whiskey high already?” Razor asks from the other side of the half-assembled Ferris wheel. He’s my closest buddy. He’s like a brother, but I don’t even know his real name. When you join the carnival, real names are left at the gate.
“Shit, seriously? I thought you were just hungover like the rest of us. This ride’s a bitch to put up. What the fuck are you doing spliffing up before we get it together?” I say, dropping the heavy piece of metal. I wipe my sweaty forehead, getting a whiff of the diesel and grease on my hands.
“Whiskey, you better not let Papa Smurf find out you’re working fucked up, he’ll slough your ass so fast you’ll be stuck in this town begging for bus fare,” Razor says, walking over to us. His short brown hair is soaked in sweat from busting his ass all morning.
“Like I’m supposed to believe you two fuck ups never do?” Whiskey says, his bloodshot eyes moving between Razor and me.
“Not in the morning,” I say.
Razor laughs. “At least not on mornings we’re working.”
“You guys are full of shit,” Whiskey says.
“Go get Zombie, I’ve had enough of you today,” I say, shoving Whiskey’s shoulder and sending him scrambling.
“Fuck you, man.” Whiskey collects himself and saunters away. He’s so stoned, it’d be faster for me to walk to the bunkhouse and back several times.
“Come on, Razor, work with me. I want time to shower before it’s beer o’clock.”
Razor and I get on with our work. I’m surprised how fast Zombie appears, and after busting our balls for eight hours, we finish assembling the wheel.
“Safety check,” I say. As if.
I hook my hand around the outer frame and hop up, landing with my feet on the radial strut. Like a monkey, I make my way up the side of the wheel, stopping at various points to examine the lights.
When I’m near the top, I swing myself into the red car. Sitting, I pull off my sweaty Metallica t-shirt and use it to dry my face before letting it drop to the ground. It feels good to sit down for the first time since breakfast.
It’s great up here, I can see all over this shitty little town. I don’t even know what it’s called. I don’t care about nothing, and number one on the list of things I don’t care about is the name of the town we’re in.
The Golden Arches tower over the place. It’s not quite a one-light town, but close.
Most of the houses are average, full of average rubes with average lives. Lives full of nine to five, bills and debt collectors. Fuck that shit, I need my freedom.
My life is all right. I work hard, but it’s not nine-to-five bullshit. I have a place to lay my head, food in my belly and every day is a different adventure. That’s about all I need in life.
I turn my head in the other direction. East of the park we’re in, there’s a cluster of big houses. You can even see their perfect lives from here. Now that’s something I might consider leaving this life for.
It’s actually a pretty nice town, I’ve seen a lot worse.
“Steel! You think we’re going to stand around busting our asses while you have a chill out session?” Razor yells.
“I’m doing a safety check,” I say, banging my fist against the metal car.
The car jolts and the wheel flies into action, hurling me and the car forwards. I lean back into the corner of the seat, rest my arm across the back and put my feet up on the edge. I know these shitheads, this wheel ain’t stopping anytime soon.
“I hope you assholes are having as much fun as I am,” I shout as my car passes the lowest point of the wheel.
“Hold on,” Razor grins as he leans on the speed lever.
The wheel speeds up to near its maximum. Any townie would be puking right now, but I’m used to it.
For this town, the Ferris wheel is at the back corner of the lot. The carnival is set up so you enter and walk down the midway, then loop to the right for the rides, it’s pretty much a big circle. Little kiddie rides at the front, shakers at the back.
The rides and midway are taking shape. Most of the big stuff is up, it’s just the little things left for tomorrow. The ticket booths, the matting, and we have to check every single damn light bulb. That’s a pain-in-the-ass job.
It’s empty now, waiting for the crowds to fill it up. I always get a kick out of the happiness on the little kiddies’ faces, and I get a lot of joy out of the local girls who are happy to spread their legs for a carny.
There’s nothing better than a rough fucker like me corrupting the local pastor’s daughter.
“I’m enjoying my sunset ride, assholes!” I yell to no one in particular.
The ride comes to an abrupt stop, my car wildly swings back and forth.
“Get your ass down here and work,” Razor yells.
“Papa Smurf said we’re finished at sundown tonight, woo hoo!” I holler at them.
I’m at two o’clock on the wheel. The car’s still swinging, but I hop up and grab onto the wheel’s framework.
“About time,” Razor says and starts the wheel moving again, although not at full tilt this time.
I tighten my grip on the strut and get my feet ready to take the change in direction as we go over the apex of the wheel.
With my feet nestled in the joint of the frame, I hold on with one hand and lean way out. As we come to the bottom of the arc, I hop off. Without breaking my stride, I walk towards the carny cafeteria.
My stomach groans as I near the greasy goodness smell of burgers and fries. I normally heat up some ramen noodles in my bunkhouse cabin, but Wednesdays are rough work and I always treat myself to the mess tent for dinner. Somehow dollar store food isn’t enough when you’ve been chucking heavy pig irons around all day.
“Evening, Cess,” I say as I reach the line-up for grub.
Cess turns to me and smiles, she always did have a welcoming smile. Welcoming everyone and anyone to her pussy. Though she must be over thirty now, and her age is starting to show. The straggly blah brown hair doesn’t help her looks.
“Hey Steel, feel like visiting tonight?”
“I’m good.”
<
br /> “You sure didn’t think like that when you joined us as a little virgin teenager.”
I roll my eyes. That was ten years ago, I’ve had hundreds of pussies since, and I’ll still never hear the end of being a virgin when I joined the carnival at seventeen. A guy doesn’t get much chance to lose his virginity while he’s in juvie, at least not to a female.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Why don’t you come and see me tonight?” Because I don’t need to touch the lot lizard is why.
“Fuck, Cess, you know I’m all about local pussy. I’m going to find myself a pretty blonde this week.”
When I See You Smile (Emily)
My best friends Courtney and Maddie pick me up to go to the carnival. The annual Lions Club Carnival is the most exciting thing that happens in the town of Colmar.
I’m glad it’s a warm enough October evening to wear my new Burberry dress. I bought it last month, and haven’t had a chance to wear it yet.
Courtney looks perfect, as always. Not a single piece of her chestnut hair is out of place. Unlike Maddie’s wild red hair.
It’s Saturday evening. We’d planned to come last night too, but got distracted with a zombie movie marathon on tv and never made it.
Well, I distracted them with the zombies.
I didn’t feel like going last night, I was too busy stewing over the conversation with my father, right before my parents left for the airport on yet another of their vacations.
“Have fun at the carnival. It should be a good one, they’re a new carnival company this year,” my mom said, her overnight bag clenched in her hand.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” my father said, “I have a reputation to uphold. And as my daughter, your actions reflect on me.”
It was the same crap I hear all the time. I had to breathe deep, count to ten, and wish my father didn’t have the attitude of a man straight out of the fifties. I swear this entire town is stuck in the fifties.
Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy Page 17