Table of Contents
Etched in Stone
Copyright
Synopsis
Dedication
Prologue: The Beginning
Chapter One: Two Months Later
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chatper Twenty-Nine
Chatper Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
Mayra Statham’s other works at:
Etched in Stone
Six Degrees Series- Book Two
By Mayra Statham
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
Copyright © 2015 Mayra Statham
First ebook edition: April 2015
Synopsis
One look, one moment and I was completely defenseless.
One touch, one embrace and I was utterly consumed.
One kiss, one caress and that's all it took.
One look and thirty-four year old Parker Stone knew his life would never be the same. She called to him unlike anything ever had in his life, sparking an unbridled desire and captivating him completely.
One touch and twenty-eight year old Liz Del Rio wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away. Experiencing a life full of disappointment and heartache, she wasn't looking for a relationship, let alone love and all the risks that came with it. Every time life had taught her the same lesson: not to let people in because they always leave and when they leave, it leaves scars upon your soul.
One kiss sealed their fate and they knew they would never be able to live without one another.
Liz and Parker embed themselves into each other's world. Passion burns bright and fast, but what happens when your lives are connected in ways you could have never imagined?
Secrets from Liz's past threaten to break not only what they have, but who she is as they learn that once love is etched in stone nothing can make it crumble.
Dedication
“They say love is the best investment; the more you give, the more you get in return.”
-Audrey Hepburn
Prologue: The Beginning
Four and a half years ago.
Elizabeth “Liz” Del Rio
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I shake my head and take a deep breath but have to stifle away a cough. The air is filled with the smell of aerosol hairspray and heavy perfume in the dressing room of Shine, my new place of employment.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Twenty dollars in my wallet, five dollars and forty three cents in my checking account, rent due in two weeks, nothing but two cans of chicken noodle soup and two bananas in my kitchen….if these aren’t desperate times I don’t know what is.
I look in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. Smokey eyes, deep red lips, my usually tan skin looks pale.
Shake it off, Liz.
Closing my eyes, I try to take the sting away. How did I get here? How could I have trusted someone so much that I’d let their dreams and their needs overshadow my own? And for what? Jake Thompson got exactly what he needed from me and then left me behind. He’d finished school, while I worked ceaselessly to help pay for said school, until he got his dream job and we were both supposed to leave for London together. He’d said it would be his turn to support me, while I chased my dreams. Disappointment flowed through my veins at how stupidly naive I’d been.
“Hey, are you okay?” A soft feminine voice said, snapping me out of my pity party. Opening my eyes, I turn to see a demure redhead with soft caramel colored eyes watching me.
She’s wearing a short emerald green satin halter top nightie. Her skin is the color of porcelain and her legs, wow, they’re a mile long. She’s beautiful but there is also something sweet about her.
“Just nerves,” I tell her and she nods her eyes on me.
Partially true. I’ve been at Shine for a week now. I can tell she wants to say something more, but I turn away. I’ve seen her around with two other girls. Most of the girls here keep to themselves, but they’re always together. I envy that. People that you belong to. I don’t have anyone.
“Liz, right?” She asks and I nod.
Her name is Lucy, fitting for a redhead. Her friends are Tess and Carrie. Each woman is stunningly beautiful. Carrie has long silky straight blonde hair and is a blue eyed Barbie. She is the opposite of Tess, who has jet black hair and almond shaped green eyes that hint that she is part Asian. Each woman is beautiful in her own way.
“You’re waitressing?” she asks sitting down in the empty seat next to me. I glance over at her reflection, wondering what she is up to. I am not really sure why she’s trying to be friendly to me as she picks up a clear lip-gloss.
“Yeah,” I respond trying to ignore her. I wanted to let her in. I wanted people to belong to. But the last person that I’d belonged to had been a lying, cheating sack of shit that had left without even trying to fight for me. He’d left me and gone to the other side of the world without a second thought to the fact that I’d already given up my apartment and quit the two jobs I’d tirelessly worked to support us both. No. Belonging to people hurt. Especially when they let you down.
“If you need any help...”
“Look Lucy, I don’t know what you are up to, but seriously I don’t do the whole BFF thing,” I snap, immediately regretting the words. Thinking about Jake always set me off, making me bitchy and cold.
“What?” she asks her eyes wide and slightly glassy? I feel like a complete bitch.
Lucy was not your stereotypical ball busting redhead. She was soft, too soft. Why she was working at this place having all that softness was beyond me. It confused me why someone as soft and sweet as her would be here, just as much as it made me sad thinking of the things that might have led her to be here.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, about to reach for her hand, but I quickly pull my hand back when I almost make contact. “I’m nervous… it’s my first week here, I haven't got used to it yet.”
It was a partial truth. I was nervous. But I was also pissed, frustrated... and lonely.
“I understand,” she says softly.
“How long have you been working here?” It was small talk, but I was genuinely interested.
“Two months,” I nod but she keeps talking. “After our shift, you should come to breakfast with us.”
Almost as if sensing my immediate need to decline her invitation, she gets up and leaves before I can say anything. She might not be a ball busting red head, but she’s slick.
Fighting away a smile at her sneakiness, I take a final look at myself in the mirror. I try to shake off my nervousness, failing miserably. I stand up avoiding my full body reflection. I didn’t need to be reminded of my lack of clothing. In nothing but black lace boy shorts, a matching black lace camisole that stops right above my belly button and red stilettos on my feet that pinch my toes. I could get use to the shoes and the lingerie, this job wasn’t going to be forever. I just needed to get back on my feet and save up a little money, just enough not to have to be in this spot again. So desperate that I’d taken a job at a modern day ‘social club’ where all the ‘exclusive members’ were not only predominantly male, but also the movers and shakers of the West Coast. Politicians, movie stars, businessman, you name it. If they had some kind of clout or power they could probably be found here.
Leaving the dressing room, I make sure I am standing tall and swaying my hips as I walk down the hall towards Shine’s bar. Lucy’s invitation still weighs on my mind as I try to kill the urge to accept. Smiling at the cute bartender as I reach the bar, his dark eyes roam over me and I try not to let him see how uncomfortable that makes me. Thinking about going to breakfast with Lucy and her group is becoming even more tempting to me, more than anything in a long time. I shouldn’t get close. People you let get close to you, leave. Well, they always leave me anyhow.
Four years ago
Leaning back in the black leather chair, a cigar in my hand, I watch closely as she walks onto the stage.
Dark, shiny hair and a natural sway to her curvy hips, gets my attention and I sit up slightly. My boring night has suddenly become more interesting. I pick up my glass of scotch and take a slow drink, allowing its burn to trickle slowly down my throat as she starts to dance to the tempo of the music playing in the dark club. The flimsy orange material covering her body brings out the natural tanned tone of her olive hued skin.
Watching her dance causes the front of my pants to strain against the now very hard bulge behind them. My blood heats up. I place the drink down on the dark wooden table at my side, enjoying the way she's bringing me to life. I haven’t been brought to that state of arousal that fast in… more time than I care to think about.
Her body moves to the tempo of the music like a goddess. She confidently moves her body, gyrating and swaying beautifully. She moves her body in a way that makes it impossible to look away, a mixture of sexy and sweet. But it’s her eyes that captivate me. Dark and nervous. It’s that nervousness that makes every nerve in my body tighten with need.
Her hips, her legs, her tits, all fucking perfect! Her back is to me now, and all I can think about is her ass. Best fucking ass I’ve ever laid eyes on. For my age, that's’ saying something. Firm and perky. I close my eyes, the vision of that ass is burned into my memory. Opening them slowly, my eyes on her, I watch her continue to dance.
A blonde waitress walks by and I get her attention. Whispering my request into her ear, she stiffens. I love watching these new girls squirm in nervousness. I feed off of it. Blondie looks towards the stage, her eyes wide and slightly scared. I watch her swallow hard, look at me and nod mechanically right before she walks her tight little ass towards the bar.
She’s cute. If I wanted something blonde, I might have picked her. But I’m not in the mood for that. The sexy little Latina on the stage is what's calling to me.
My eyes go back to the stage where my little vixen is on the floor, her back ached, dark hair spilling down her back, legs in the air. She rolls and crawls towards the end of the stage. I sit up even straighter, trying to adjust the hard on the little minx has caused. Mindlessly I bring the glass of aged scotch to my lips.
I'll have her crawling like that soon enough.
Her skin is golden under the lights, my mouth waters to taste it. She reaches the edge of the stage, still dancing. She’s taken off the orange piece of fabric, and is now topless. Perfect slightly larger than average perky tits, brown nipples standing at attention, she rolls around on the stage. Each move is better than the last. The sight of her flawless tanned back with her dark silky tresses cascading down, she looks over her shoulder and her dark mesmerizing eyes feel like they see me. Fuck me it’s as if they can see right through me.
I want her to look at me, I need it. Her eyes on me and only me, I want to be the only one she sees.
The sight of her mixed with what I would do to her flawless skin, makes me harder. Tight with need, a need I haven’t felt in years. No, fucking decades.
Now, she’s only in a tiny black gauzy thong that makes her luscious ass seem even perkier than before. She stands, giving me a great fucking view of it. Fucking flawless. I want to squeeze her ass, and hear her whimper at the rough way I would touch her. I can imagine the way her skin would feel as my hands rub over that plump flesh, right before smacking it hard. The sounds she’ll make at the sharp contact and watching it redden and welt under my hand.
Then watch it redden more beneath anything I chose to use on her.
I look at her mouth before she turns away to walk off the stage and I breathe in deep trying to keep my calm. My mind fills with how her pretty full lips would service every single one of my needs. Watching the sexy sway of her hips as she disappears from the stage, all I can think about is how this was the one. The next girl I’d own.
She’ll be mine. No matter what!
One way or another, I’ll have her.
Oh yes. I always get what I want...
Two months ago
Parker Stone
Weddings are fucking chaotic I think as I look around.
As a rule I try to decline as politely as possible when asked to be in them by old college friends or extended family, but this was one I couldn’t refuse. The bride, Grace and I had been friends since elementary school. So when she asked, I couldn’t say no.
Then, when she asked if I could help supervise shit being brought in by vendors to the reception site and try to make sure her mom didn’t get overwhelmed, I really couldn’t say no.
Even though to be honest, I don’t know how much help I am going to be to the mother of the bride. I watch her mom, Betsy fuss over the catering station, something about the wrong shade of yellow table runners. Wasn’t yellow just yellow? It wasn’t like anyone was going to bring out a color wheel compare the runner to the wheel and bridesmaids dresses and shake their heads in disappointment at the newly married couple. Hell, people didn’t even pay attention to that shit. Especially not when they are loading up their plates with food after a long day of running from the ceremony to the reception. But what the fuck do I know, I’m just a guy.
I sit, running my fingers through my hair, the California sun is shining brightly and even being this close to the beach, it’s still killer. Not to mention the fact that I’d have to be in a fucking penguin suit later. Shaking my head, I stand up and I keep going. The sooner I finish here, the faster the day will get by, and maybe I’ll end up with one of the sexy bridesmaids or one of Grace’s hot sorority sisters from college. There were two that were constantly flirting; maybe I will have some fun tonight.
As I help with the tables and chairs, unfolding and setting them wherever Becky orders they should go, sweat trickles down my back, only serving as a reminder of why I will never get married.
IF (and that is a big if) I ever find the right girl, maybe I’ll talk her into a Wednesday morning trip to a Justice of the Peace. Not some big overdone show like this. At thirty-four, I’m not sure that getting married will ever happen. I shake my head at the ridiculous idea. Sure my parents were happily married, to one another, and had been for over thir
ty-six years, but I was a cynic. Finding that one person that did it for you, for forever? I wasn’t sold.
First off, I don’t have a type. I love women, and from high school on, I knew that women love me. I’m not bad on the eyes. I am successful, have more than enough money in the bank and I’m my own boss. I don’t lack for female company. At any given moment, there is always at least six numbers in my cell that I could call at any time and be guaranteed a good time.
It might make me sound like a dog or a player, but I’m not. Seriously, I’m upfront and honest with each and every woman I take out. They always know where I stand and what I have to offer.
I’m having the time of my life right now.
Money, my own business, my own place in a great area, my family finally comfortable financially, parents retired in Florida. I’m paying for my youngest sister to finish her masters at the school of her choice and I don't even wince at the tuition checks I write out every semester. I am good, more than good. Everyone around me is good. So why ruin it with picking one woman just for the sake of having one? Sure life does get lonely sometimes, but it’s not that bad. I mean, I have my friends and family and the occasional booty call. Life is not anything to complain about.
The truth is that when you're raised with parents like I was, it makes you not want to settle. Honestly, I have never in my life met a woman who makes me want more than a good time in the sack. I have never met a woman I want to cherish and protect with my entire soul.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to find ‘the one’ or I wasn’t made for ‘true love’?
Mindlessly helping the staff add tablecloths to the tables, put covers on the chairs and then helping them bring in the huge, heavy intricate flower arrangements, my mind is flooded with stupid thoughts about my future. That's another reason to hate weddings. It makes you think about your life. Where it is and where you’re going. This particular wedding, is only making me realize how alone I am and how old I’m getting. That thought makes me wince.
Etched in Stone (Six Degrees Series Book 2) Page 1