by Liz Crowe
“James, oh, I’m close.”
Pulling away, I pushed her further up the bed as I drove my cock into her. We were both moaning when there was a knock at the door. She stiffened and I murmured to her that the door was locked. “Shhh,” I whispered as I began massaging her clit with my thumb.
She smiled and threw her head back. I pulled out and begin rubbing her clit with the head of my throbbing cock, knowing she couldn’t resist it. Soon she was silently coming and I slammed back into her, resuming my pounding. My release quickly followed and she pulled my mouth down to hers to subdue my groans.
There was another knock at the door. “Just a minute.” Cassidy giggled as I pulled myself off of her.
I went to the bathroom and washed my face before wetting a rag. Kneeling down, I wiped away any evidence of our fucking from her and when I was done I threw the rag in a hamper and pulled my pants back on. We exited her room hand in hand snickering to ourselves and avoiding the eyes of the old ladies in the hall.
“Do you know who they were?”
“Friends of Dad’s from work? No clue!” She pulled me down the stairs and outside to rejoin the reception.
After dinner, the music initiated and so began the routine dances. Before I knew it, I was being pulled to the floor with Cassidy as part of the wedding party. I was thankful to have her in my arms again, her temple rested on my jaw as her body relaxed into mine.
“Did you just sniff me?” I whispered in her ear.
“You smell good. I can’t help it. I never want to forget your smell.” She chirped in my ear, “Stop smelling so fucking edible if you don’t like me sniffing you.”
I let out a laugh and squeezed her tighter. “Be careful. That potty mouth of yours does things to me. Things not appropriate for prying eyes.”
The rest of the night continued with drinking, food, and lots of dancing. I even allowed myself to relax and enjoy a few beers. It was late and almost everyone had left due to the impending snow storm. The only people left were Cal, Jane, Cassidy and I. Even Dave and Lisa had left to go to a bed and breakfast down the road.
Slipping the DJ some money to stay late, I gave him my song requests. Cassidy was sitting at a table by the dance floor and I watched her remove her shoes.
“May I?” I stuck my hand out to her and she looked up to me with a grin on her face.
“I should tell you no. My feet are killing me.” She placed her hand in mine. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Yanking her to her feet I said, “You can stand on my feet if you want.”
“The DJ will be leaving soon.”
“No worries. It’s taken care of.” I noticed Cal and Jane sitting at a nearby table nose to nose, besides them and the DJ, we were all alone.
The music started playing as I lead her to the melody. Love Somebody by Maroon 5 filled the now empty barn. As the tempo picked up, I swung her out from me as she giggled with delight. Cal and Jane joined us and the four of us had our fun. The words of the song spoke true. Since meeting her, I knew I would never be the same and would never recover.
As the song neared its end we were nose to nose, laughing and kissing. I dramatically dipped her low as the song ended and kissed her with the passion of a wild man. I was aware of the whistling and cheering coming from Cal and Jane.
Pulling us to an upright position as Cassidy caught her breath I saw her glaring at her brother and Jane. “Grow up, you two!”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see you lovebirds in the morning. We’re crashing.” Cal and Jane walked out of the barn as the next song began.
It was just the two of us now as the DJ took a smoke break outside. “I picked this song especially for you, Cassidy.” Her face stilled before she tucked her head under my chin and listened to the song. “Thought there was nothing slow about me falling for you, Blackbird. I fell for you the first minute my eyes locked with yours. I know that now.”
Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova filled the space around us and between us. She gingerly put her bare feet on top of my shoe clad ones, her arms wrapping around my waist as my arms encased her. Rubbing her neck with one hand and the curve of her ass with the other, I thought about how she had grounded me and brought me back to myself. I only hoped she was strong enough to handle all of it, all of me, the things she knew, those that she didn’t that I couldn’t bear to open up about and everything in between. And I prayed I would be smart enough to keep her no matter the cost.
“I love you, Cassidy.” I felt her still before she pulled back and I looked into her eyes. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” She was still not moving. “Breathe.”
She took in a breath. “Say it again.” She was grinning like a school girl.
“Cassidy, I love you, always, only and forever you.”
She jumped up in my arms squeezing my neck tight and whispering, “I love you too, more than you know.”
“I know, Cassidy. I know.”
When the song ended she headed over to the DJ who had just returned from outside. They exchanged some words before she walked back to me.
“It’s my turn to request a song.” She kissed me deeply as a song I hadn’t heard played overhead.
“What song is this?”
“I’m Done by The Pussycat Dolls. Don’t judge.” She smirked at me before burrowing into my chest.
We were barely moving, just holding on to one another, and she leaned her head back before standing on her tip toes to kiss me. It was a kiss of possession, ownership, passion and love. I loved this woman and she loved me. I didn’t think it was possible until I had met her.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I looked to her, knowing that I was the one who should be thanking her.
“For loving me, all of me. I know I don’t make it easy; I may be a little crazy and I have a horrible temper. I tried pushing you away and you didn’t let go. Thank you.”
I smiled, “You have a lot to learn about me, Cassidy. You can push me away all you want and I’m sure I’ll push back at times. This is all new to me, but I can assure you that when it comes to you, I’m never letting go.”
Epilogue
~ JANE ~
Summer 2013
I was frantically packing my bags. I had to hurry before he called the house to check on me. The Greyhound bus was scheduled to leave in forty-five minutes. He wouldn’t expect me to take a bus and leave my BMW behind. My plan was brilliant; at least I thought it was.
Everything of importance to me was packed in the three bags I carried. Mom had wired me money which I carried in a pouch around my neck. I left my cell phone, having already purchased a ‘pay as you go’ phone so he couldn’t track me. Though, after some time, I’m sure he’d figure out that I had moved back home, across the country. I hoped and prayed he’d just let me go.
I pulled into the parking lot around the block from the bus station. Gathering my bags, I removed all the papers linking the car to me, threw the keys on the seat and left it unlocked. Given the shady neighborhood, the car would be gone soon. Becky, a coworker from the hospital was the only one who suspected what was going on with Derek. I’d put in my notice at work a month ago, at Derek’s insistence. Though I didn’t tell Becky that I was going to flee. The less she knew the safer she would be.
The attendant working the desk took in my appearance and gave me a heartfelt smile. My attire wasn’t appropriate for a June day in sunny San Francisco and she seemed to understand why I was wearing jeans, a hoodie pulled over my head, and big black designer sunglasses, trying to mask the black eye Derek had gifted me with. I made my way onto the bus finding an empty seat in the back. Once the bus pulled away and we were twenty minutes down the road, I put my ear buds in and let out a relieved breath trying to forget.
“Jane, you’re done with work. I make more than enough to support us and you’re place is here at home.”
I was shocked at the words coming from his mouth. This wasn’t the Derek I moved
across the country with. How could he have fooled me? “Derek, I love my job, please.”
He towered over me and I tried to shield myself from his angry words and his beating fists. He was convinced I was cheating on him, which was absurd. I’d already lost the baby, which he was also convinced wasn’t his, thanks to another encounter with him. After his true colors emerged I told myself I was better off alone.
I shook the memory away as a rogue tear slid down my cheek. I was done crying for him, what he made me believe and what I found out. He was an abusive monster who turned me into someone I didn’t recognize. Never in my life did I understand why women would stay with abusive pricks. I understood now. But I was determined to get myself back. I refused to become another statistic.
About the Author
J.M. resides in Metro Detroit, MI with her husband and four small children.
I've dreamed of writing romance novels since I was little. After having baby #4, who may or may not have been fathered by Christian Grey, I decided it was time to pursue my dreams.
When I'm not volunteering at the schools of my children, running to various appointments, enjoying time with my friends and my book club, dating my husband, or avoiding cleaning my house, I'm writing!
I love music and believe that books and music can't exist without the other. My goal is for you to read more than a good book, but for you to have an experience!
You can find her at
www.jmwittbooks.com
Twitter #wittymomauthor
www.facebook.com/jmwittbooks
The Descendant, The Descendant Vampire Series, Book 1
by
Kelley Grealis
Chapter One
I knew I wasn’t dying. At least that was what the other doctors had said. But what I didn’t know, and neither did any of those other doctors, was the cause of my symptoms. In fact, those supposed specialists had all declared me to be perfectly healthy and viewed my symptoms with skepticism. But I knew they were mistaken; there was something wrong with me.
I waited for Doctor McNally in the cramped exam room; she was the seventh doctor I’d visited in the past six months. The drab, yellow walls and fluorescent lighting did little to comfort me, but I was still optimistic that this appointment was going to be different from the others. After all, this specialist had run more tests and labs and exams than the others, which gave me hope that she would not only be the doctor to diagnose me, but to cure me.
There was a knock at the door, and Doctor McNally entered the room. She was slender, maybe in her late thirties, with chestnut hair and green eyes. Her blue scrubs were hidden under a white lab coat.
“Good morning, Allison. How are you today?” she asked with a smile.
What a loaded question, I thought. Let’s see – depressed, confused, tired, angry, sad, scared, all of the above? I decided to go with something less dramatic. “I’m okay. I’ll be better after you tell me what’s wrong with me.”
The doctor pulled a caster stool from under the counter and sat down. Rolling closer to where I sat on the exam table, she crossed her arms over the clipboard in her lap and looked me in the eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Allison.”
My heart skipped. Blood flooded my cheeks. Anger boiled in my stomach. Not again. Not another doctor insisting I was well. She couldn’t tell me nothing was wrong with me. There had to be an explanation.
“But how can that be?” I pleaded. “Can you look again, please? There has to be something.”
“Your blood work is normal, your scans are clean. You are well, Allison. I reviewed the information as it came in and looked it over again before meeting with you. There’s nothing here to indicate you are anything but healthy.”
I shook my head and dropped my eyes to the floor. What was happening to me wasn’t normal. Something wasn’t right.
I looked back at the doctor and tried to control my temper. “I don’t believe this. You are just like all of the other doctors. There has to be something causing all of this. I’m not making this up.”
Doctor McNally flipped through my file. “Allison, I’m telling you – according to these results, there is nothing unusual going on with you.”
“Then how do you explain my lack of appetite?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“You haven’t lost any weight over the past months. Your iron levels are normal…”
“What about my body temperature?” I interrupted. “I flare up at night like a furnace but I’m freezing cold in the morning, like I am now. Just last night, my blistering body heat kept me awake as I wallowed in bed in a pool of sweat. But now? Now I’m freezing, absolutely chilled to the bone. And my sweatshirt, jeans and socks are doing little to warm me. It makes no sense considering it’s eighty-some-odd degrees outside. How do you explain that?”
“Allison, your temperature has been normal every time we’ve taken it, regardless of when it was taken. Even today, your temperature is ninety-eight point six degrees.”
“What about my insomnia?” I challenged. “I’ve barely slept in months.”
The doctor pursed her lips and seemed to carefully ponder her next words. “You say you dream, right?”
My mouth parted and my mind went momentarily blank as I stared at the doctor. I had no idea she knew about my dream. I didn’t think I’d shared it with anyone. I hadn’t even told my husband Matt let alone some doctor I’d only known through a handful of visits. It was my secret, or so I thought. I made no mention of the dream to anyone because it made little sense to me. I knew Matt and Jenna, my best friend since kindergarten, were already worried about my omnipresent sour mood and inexplicable symptoms, and they didn’t need something else to worry about – a mysterious dream that somehow imparted temporary serenity upon me.
“I told you about my dream?”
“Mmm hmm. I have it written here from our last visit. You have a recurring dream about a garden.”
“It’s not just any garden,” I snapped, and then immediately felt foolish. For some unknown reason, I was highly protective of my dream. But calling it a simple garden didn’t do this paradise justice.
In my dream, the ground is a rich brown and exudes an earthy scent. Large tree roots break through the forest floor, undulating over the landscape like hypnotic waves. The atmosphere is completely saturated with fertility. Abundant, flourishing plant life is everywhere and flowering shrubs cling to the base of trees making it impossible to see where the trunks converge with the ground. Berry bushes are plentiful, as are ferns and thorny hedges.
The trees are a spectacular sight, massive in height and width. If the breadths of the trunks are any indication, these trees have been around for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The branches soar up into the air, twisting and weaving, creating a sort of jungle gym. Branches kiss the sky where the foliage unfolds into an emerald canopy. Sunlight filters through this ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of color within the jungle. An ever-present cool breeze sways the leaves, revealing patches of crisp, blue sky.
Beyond the wooded area are lush carpets of grass dotted with flowers in every imaginable color. There are large red blooms, tiny yellow buttercups, tall blue bells, orange lilies, purple puffs, and an array of exotic blossoms. The colors are splendid, so vibrant and full of life. It is as if a luminary is lighting each plant from within, showcasing the flower’s beauty. In the distance, wild grasslands dance in the breeze in spellbinding repetition. The air is fragrant, almost overpoweringly so, yet delightful. The individual scents– roses, honeysuckle, freesia, and some unfamiliar ones – blend to form a pleasant perfume.
Other dreams reveal that animals of every kind make this paradise their home. Fluttering birds whistle melodious tunes while monkeys dangle from trees with bananas in hand. Koala bears cling to tree limbs near camouflaged lizards, and toucans perch on branches as they keep a watchful eye over the revelry. Lions, deer, elephants, and other large beasts roam freely, yet there are plenty of smaller creatures, too – rabbits, butterf
lies and a variety of insects. Friend and foe, hunter and prey live here in magical harmony, making the garden like no other place that has existed before. At least no place I have ever known.
“Allison?” Doctor McNally’s voice floated through my ears. “Allison, hello, are you with me?”
I cleared my throat as I realized I had drifted off to my paradise. “Um, yeah. Sorry, I was ah, just thinking.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Your dream.”
“Not really. It’s just um -- it’s not just a garden,” I stated, trying to justify my earlier reaction. The last thing I wanted was a suspicious doctor exploring my paradise with me. “It’s more of a tropical oasis, of sorts, something like that.”
“Allison, is there something else going on?” The doctor stood up from her stool and peered down at me. This was starting to feel like an interrogation and I didn’t like it. “Is there something else bothering you besides the symptoms that brought you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you under stress or worried about something? Have you had a major life event like losing a job or a loved one?”
Her questions caught me off guard, but in that moment I suddenly realized something. I wasn’t sure what she had asked or how she had asked it, but the doctor’s words struck a chord with me. After all of these doctor visits, all it took was one doctor to ask a certain question in a certain way to make me realize the cause of all my ills.
I’m having a midlife crisis, I thought to myself. I was sure the good ole doc here would really think I was nuts if I told her. It did sound ridiculous, after all; I was only thirty-two years old. But somehow, it also made perfect sense.