New Year's Eve: a Novella

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New Year's Eve: a Novella Page 5

by Samantha Young


  Joe sat on the sofa, a glass filled with beer in one hand, while he stared in a trance at the flickering fire.

  I could feel myself losing my nerve just at the mere sight of him, even as I wanted to lie my body atop his. A foil covered plate on the island caught my attention and I moved toward it. Stalling.

  Beneath it was a roast beef dinner. Joe had cooked. I knew that because the smell from earlier had given me hunger pains.

  “That’s yours.”

  I startled at his voice. He stared blankly at me. “Thank you.”

  He lifted his chin and turned back to the fire.

  Hungry and nervous, I sat down at the island to eat. But after a few forkfuls, my nerves got the better of me. Pushing the plate away, I was readying myself to talk when he spoke first.

  “Is it Dex? Because I spoke to him today and he’s okay with the idea of us.”

  I spun around to face Joe.

  His expression was still hard and defiant. His walls were still halfway up even though he was trying to understand me.

  “It’s not Dex.”

  “The age gap? You worried about what people will think? That I’m a dirty fucker going after a woman almost half my age?”

  “I don’t care what people will think. And you’re not a dirty fucker, so don’t call yourself that. You’re forty, Joe, not eighty. And I’m twenty-four, not some innocent eighteen-year-old.”

  His lips twitched at that but then pinched into a straight line before he muttered, “So you just don’t feel about me the way I feel about you?”

  “You scare me,” I blurted out.

  Joe’s eyes flashed dangerously. “What?”

  At his biting tone, I shook my head. “Not like that. God, never like that. In fact, I’ve never felt safer with someone in my life. You’re what home should feel like.”

  Joe sat up, looking baffled. “Then I don’t understand.”

  Drawing up my courage, I exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry I hurt you or made you feel like your feelings aren’t reciprocated. Of course they’re reciprocated, Joe.” I hurried on before he could interrupt. “But I’m scared. Scared of needing you as much as I do. Scared of losing you.”

  His expression hardened. “You don’t trust me.”

  “No!” I pushed off the stool, crossing the room only to stop midway as Joe stood up too, dumping his beer on the side table as he did. “I… everyone goes away. That’s just the natural course of life. I knew I had to just suck up the fear of losing Shaw because I loved her and there was no changing that… but I wanted to go through life protecting my heart as much as possible. Trying to love as few people as possible.”

  “Baby,” his voice was thick with understanding.

  “But whether or not I push you away, there’s no getting around it. I love you. And I can throw off my fears and enjoy a life with you… or I let fear win.”

  “So what have you decided to do?”

  I smiled tremulously. “I won’t regret you. I won’t look back on my life and remember this moment and wish I’d done something different. I love you and I can’t believe you love me back. I will never throw your love back in your face again. I promise, Joe, I pr—” the words were cut off by his kiss as he hauled me into his arms.

  Between hungry kisses we divested each other of all our clothes and I found myself sprawled across the rug in front of the fire. Joe towered above me, all muscle and solid masculine beauty. His erection strained toward his taut stomach as he dragged his gaze slowly down my body.

  “Open your legs, baby,” he murmured.

  I did as commanded and grew wet at the hitch in his breathing. “Come inside me, Joe.”

  “First I’m gonna kiss you.” He lowered to his knees, pushing mine apart and then he buried his head between my legs.

  My gasps of pleasure filled the cabin as he licked and sucked until the tension was too much and I shattered into a million blissful pieces. I was tight and swollen from my climax as he pushed inside of me, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was being connected to this man in every way possible. I wrapped my arms around him as he moved over me, in me, our eyes locked in passion.

  “I love you so fucking much,” he groaned.

  “I love you too.”

  “I’m never letting you go.” His thrusts grew harder, his words catching on his pleasure, “You’re not going back to that apartment.”

  I moaned, gripping my thighs to his hips, rocking into his throbbing drives. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Ryan,” he warned, grabbing my hands to pin them to the floor.

  I couldn’t think past the heat building deep inside of me. “Joe—”

  “You’re moving in with me.”

  “Ask nicely!” I managed to bite out.

  He slowed his thrusts, laughing softly. “Okay, baby, move in with me. Please?”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I pushed my hips against him, “Just make me come, Joe. Don’t stop.”

  “Ask nicely,” he murmured against my mouth.

  I grinned, pushing against his hold. He released me and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer. “Please fuck me to orgasm, my darling Joe.”

  Dark desire saturated his expression. “Say it again.”

  Knowing exactly what he wanted, I brushed my lips against his and whispered hoarsely, “Fuck me, Joe. Fuck me, hard.”

  My words shattered his control and soon I was coming around his powerful thrusts.

  “Ryan!” Joe roared out as he flooded inside me.

  His chest heaved against mine as he tried not to crush me with his weight. I held him to me, loving the feel him of him over me, inside me. Face suffused with wonder and satisfaction, he shook his head. “It’s never been like this. Never.”

  “For me either,” I promised.

  Joe grinned, his obvious happiness filling me with joy too. Then his eyes flickered up to above the fireplace where a clock was mounted on the wall. “It’s past midnight. We missed bringing in the new year.”

  I laughed, caressing his face, drawing his gaze back to mine. “I think we brought in the new year perfectly. After all, we should always start the new year the way we mean to go on.”

  His deep chuckles filled my ears as he rolled to his side, pulling me with him. I rested my cheek on his chest, my leg curled over his, keeping him inside me.

  “I meant what I said,” he broke our pleasurable silence a few minutes later, “I don’t want you going back to that apartment. It doesn’t make you not strong to lean on me a little. And I want you with me. I want to wake up every morning to see you sleeping beside me.”

  I smiled against his chest, dizzy at the thought. “Isn’t it too soon?”

  He tipped my head back. “I don’t care. All I care about is you.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, excited and nervous at the prospect. “I want that too.”

  “You want babies?” he asked abruptly.

  More people to love and worry over? The fear almost caused me to lie, but I stopped myself. “I do.”

  “Do you care I’ll be an older dad?”

  “Not if you don’t care. Joe, you know our age difference doesn’t matter to me. I don’t see your age. I just see you. I just… I just love you.”

  “Then that’s all I care about.” His expression was serious. “I’m going to make you so fucking happy you won’t be able to stand it.”

  I grinned, already so happy I couldn’t stand it. “I believe you.”

  “Happy New Year, baby.”

  “Happy New Year, Joe.”

  About the Author

  Samantha Young is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author from Scotland. She’s been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance for her international bestseller On Dublin Street. On Dublin Street was Samantha’s first adult contemporary romance series and has sold in thirty-one countries.

  * * *

  Visit Samantha Young online at

  www.aut
horsamanthayoung.com

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  Instagram @AuthorSamanthaYoung

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