by Elle Keating
Feels Like Falling
Copyright 2018 © Elle Keating
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained.
Editing: Mary Yakovets and Kerri Hampton
Formatting: Integrity Formatting
Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
Table of Contents
Chapter One
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
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter 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
Epilogue
Also by Elle Keating
About the Author
Chapter One
Luke
Not here. Not fucking now.
His throat was closing up and he could feel the first beads of sweat start their descent. Luke McGinnis wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and sat his ass down in the uncomfortable chair next to Morgan Kelley’s hospital bed. The woman he loved like a sister was still asleep, catching up on her rest and giving her body a chance to heal.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, Morgan had been in a car accident. It was a good thing that the drunk driver who smashed into her car was lying in the morgue right now. Because if he had survived, after he broke Morgan’s leg, gave her a concussion, and caused damage to her spleen, Luke didn’t know what his brother would have done to the bastard. Luke looked over at Jake, who had somehow crammed his six-foot-four, two hundred twenty-pound body in a cot a nurse had rolled in for him, and sighed. Again, Luke fought off the panic attack that desperately wanted to ensnare him and took Morgan’s hand in his.
“Hey, you,” Morgan said, just above a whisper.
He hadn’t intended to wake her. He just needed to touch her, to know that she was real, alive…safe. It was selfish. She should be asleep, getting stronger, not just for herself, but for that miracle baby growing inside her.
“So my brother’s going to make an honest woman of ya, huh?”
“I take it Jake told you that he proposed?” she asked, smiling. He knew she had to be exhausted, but here she was, being that strong stubborn girl he remembered from their childhood.
“Sweetheart, I’d be surprised if the entire hospital doesn’t know that you two are tying the knot. You should have seen him, stopping every doctor, nurse and custodian he could find just to tell them that you’re going to be his wife.”
Morgan looked over at her sleepy fiancé. “I’d marry him right now if he wanted to.”
Luke was happy that his brother had a woman who loved him, but her words only made his own anxiety intensify. “I think he wants you healthy and vertical first.”
She reached out and playfully swatted his arm. But the sudden movement caused her to wince, and he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Go back to sleep, sis. I’ll call in to check on you.”
“Keep your lips off my fiancée,” mumbled a half-asleep Jake.
Luke ignored him and kept his focus on Morgan. “I think he likes to hear himself call you his fiancée.”
“I like the word wife a whole lot more,” Jake said as he shuffled off his cot. Jake walked over and gave Luke a hug.
“Pretty soon, baby,” Morgan said.
“Not soon enough,” Jake said, matching her adoring smile.
Jake walked Luke out of Morgan’s hospital room. “Thanks for coming, man,” Jake said when they were safely out of earshot of Morgan. Jake’s playful tone was gone, causing Luke’s pulse to spike.
“She’s family. Of course I’d come.” As much as Luke wanted to stay and support his brother, he knew he needed to get out of there. The fluorescent lights above were beating down on him, making more beads of sweat appear and pool on his brow.
“I can’t believe I almost lost her,” Jake said.
Luke’s chest tightened.
Breathe.
“But you didn’t. Morgan is safe and from the sound of it, as feisty as ever.” He needed to lighten up the conversation or he was going to hyperventilate.
“She’s so fucking strong,” Jake said.
“And stubborn…don’t forget that endearing quality.”
Jake chuckled. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
Luke told him that he would call him later and hustled to the elevator. But just before he could make his escape, his dad blocked his path and asked, “Heading out, son?”
Luke felt like an ass for not saying goodbye to his parents, but he was hanging on by a thread and needed to get as far away from that hospital as possible. Luke gave his dad a quick hug. “Yeah, need to get back to work.”
“Speaking of work, are you okay with holding down the fort without me for a few days? Your mom and I would like to stay here in Philly, to be here for Jake, Morgan, and Aunt Day. As you can imagine, Aunt Day is still reeling from almost losing her daughter.” Luke wasn’t at all surprised with his dad’s request. Morgan was already like a daughter to him. And Aunt Day, well, she was more than just the woman who had lived next door to him growing up. Dolores Kelley, otherwise known as Aunt Day, had been like a second mother to him. And the woman who had found him at his darkest hour.
“I’ve got it taken care of, Dad. You’re where you’re supposed to be.”
“Okay. All the upcoming appointments are on the computer. But off the top of my head, I know you have a tour tomorrow and a photo shoot for some fashion magazine this coming weekend.”
Luke inwardly cringed. He had no desire to play tour guide or host a slew of models at his winery. That was where his dad came in. When they became co-owners of the winery seven years ago, they had decided what their roles would be. Luke knew that he belonged in the fields and his dad should be the one scheduling events. His dad was a people person, not him. Luke was the most content tending to his vines and getting his hands dirty, not booking weddings or showcasing their venue. The arrangement he had with his dad was perfect and the money they had made over the past few years was staggering. At times, it didn’t feel real. Luke and his family had lived paycheck to paycheck most of his life, relying solely on his dad’s police off
icer salary and disability checks to feed and clothe five hungry kids and two adults. But somehow Patrick McGinnis had made it work. Luke was happy that he and his dad had taken on this venture together, not only to make a living, but to work side by side with the man who had saved his life when he was just eight years old.
“Stay as long as you need, Dad. Morgan, Jake and that grandbaby need you more than I do right now. But I’ll call you if I have a question about an appointment.”
His dad’s eyes narrowed as if he was studying him, dissecting his words to weed out the truth. Luke got the sense that his dad knew he was bullshitting him, but then he smiled and slapped him on the back. “Okay, son. I’m just a phone call away. Call if you need me.”
Luke nodded and stepped onto the elevator. As the doors closed, he instantly regretted not taking the stairs. It wasn’t like he was claustrophobic by nature. Any other day he would have been fine being confined in such a tight space. But with his anxiety through the roof, his thoughts racing, his heart hammering in his chest, he debated for a moment whether he should Hulk the fuck out and try to pry open the elevator doors with his bare hands. Luckily, he reached the lobby quickly and bolted out of the elevator.
He knew what he must look like. Sweating, trembling and panting like a crazed lunatic, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was stopped by hospital security. He needed to calm the hell down. Luke spotted a gift shop and slipped inside. He grabbed a bottle of water and walked up to the register. It was while he was waiting for his change that his attention drifted to some fashion magazine on one of the many racks displayed against the wall of the shop. Haunted blue-green eyes stared back at him and he found himself entranced by the model on the magazine cover. Of course, the woman appeared flawless and was most likely photoshopped but those eyes…he had to believe they were pure, not manufactured or enhanced by a computer.
“Sir, your change,” the teenaged clerk prompted. The young kid handed Luke his money and he quickly tossed it into some charity bucket next to the register. With water bottle in hand he walked over to the magazine rack for a closer look. From the print in the lower right corner, he learned that the model’s name was Peyton Matthews. He had heard of her. She was a supermodel and pretty much a household name. You had to be living under a rock not to recognize her. But he had never really taken notice before, mainly because he rarely watched television outside of sports and he wouldn’t be caught dead buying a fashion magazine. “Can I help you with something else?” the clerk asked from behind. Luke didn’t bother to turn around or provide an answer. He just ran out of there like his ass was on fire.
Once he was in his pickup truck, he downed half his water bottle and popped three Advil to ward off the tension headache that was bound to hit at any moment. He pulled out of the parking garage and headed for the highway. He thought his nerves would have settled as he put distance between himself and the hospital, but his heart continued to race, and his fingers ached from squeezing his leather-bound steering wheel. He needed relief. And there was only one place he could get it.
“Call Ashton,” he said.
His voice recognition system dialed his partner. Ashton picked up on the second ring. “Hey, sexy.” Her greeting was always the same, in words and tone. He appreciated the consistency and the fact that she rarely flirted with him to the point that it was uncomfortable. Ashton was an attractive and savvy businesswoman and more often than not got what she wanted. But he had been clear from when he’d first agreed to become her silent partner and co-owner of Eden that their relationship would always stay professional and platonic. She had seemed a little disappointed that he had drawn that line in the sand, but she respected his boundaries and kept her hands and lips to herself.
“Ashton, can you make me an appointment?”
His head pounded despite the Advil he had taken, and he stepped on the gas.
“Sure, honey. For what time?”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Anything in particular tonight?”
An image of that model flashed through his mind. He could see her eyes, feel the way they bore into his. He wondered what she would taste like, the sounds she would make. “Blonde. She needs to be blonde.”
And I could go for a large fry and a chocolate shake while we’re at it.
Making appointments to have sex with women who would never know his name or see his face was as easy as placing his order at Burger King. He wasn’t proud of how he satisfied his needs, but as he had learned the hard way, it was necessary. History proved that anonymous, safe fucking was his only option.
“She’ll be waiting for you.”
Luke ended the call and picked up the pace. Ordinarily Ashton’s confirmation, the promise that sex would be waiting for him when he arrived, would knock his anxiety down a level or two. But for some reason, his heart continued to thump in his chest and invisible fingers squeezed his throat. He grabbed the water bottle from the cup holder, but he noticed he had already drained it. Luke slammed the empty bottle down and he unleashed a string of expletives.
Calm down. Breathe. You’re almost there.
Why did sex have to be his vice? Why couldn’t he be a normal, anxious freak who could pop a pill at the onset or lose himself at the bottom of a bottle? Because neither calmed him completely. Lord knows he had tried. No, only sex could temporarily dilute his anxiety. He knew it was fucked up, that he would go to such extremes for the release his body craved when the need hit, but he had accepted and then mourned the loss of ever having a normal relationship with a woman.
***
Sixty-two minutes later he pulled into his reserved parking spot behind the club. He stepped out of his vehicle and immediately encountered the familiar sound of the bass emitting from the club walls. The hollow echo, that beat you could feel vibrating from twenty feet away normally had the capability to help him calm down, at least enough to plug in the six-digit code on the keypad next to the back door. But tonight his fingers trembled as he punched in the code, so much so that he had mistakenly put in the wrong set of numbers…twice. Finally, a green light flashed, and he gained entry. He rushed through the door like he was on some selfless, lifesaving mission. Shame washed over him as he climbed the two flights of stairs. He hated himself for needing this. For not being strong enough to cope and fight his demons like a normal person.
He pushed his self-loathing aside, entered the room at the top of the stairwell and locked the door behind him. His eyes went to the center of the room to where the woman he had ordered was waiting for him. As expected, the naked woman was on her knees and blindfolded. He unraveled his tie and threw it to the floor. His button-down shirt was the next to go. Luke circled the woman, taking in her fit physique and her full breasts. Although he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew she was attractive.
Then why the hell was his cock limp and unresponsive?
Luke peered at the woman and noticed her blonde, silky hair. It flowed past her shoulder blades and settled just inches above her lovely round ass. His cock finally stirred. He wanted to reach out and touch her golden locks, to see how those soft strands would feel between his fingertips, but he didn’t. The model from the magazine cover entered his thoughts. For some reason, the intrusion pissed him off and he began his monologue, although it wasn’t necessary. Ashton had already screened the woman before him, ensured that she was clean and understood the terms, but he needed the women he was with to hear it from him so there were no illusions.
Standing directly over her he said, “I will not hurt you. But if you feel threatened, you simply have to tell me to stop and I will, immediately, no questions asked. Do you understand?” The woman nodded her head. “I will not kiss you on the mouth. I will not hold you after we have both come.” He bent down and took her hands in his and lifted her to her feet. He watched her bite her lip. She was nervous. It was the second-to-last feeling he wanted to evoke in a woman. Fear claimed the top spot. Luke caressed her cheek with the b
ack of his hand and he watched her exhale. For a split second he was tempted to rip off her satin blindfold and discover if her eyes were the same shade as the model’s, but he did not succumb to the temptation. Because that would have been too fucking dangerous and stupid. “But I will give you pleasure.” Her lip chewing stopped instantly at his words. Her nervousness and any impending fear dissipated before his eyes. “Tell me what you need.”
“I want you to fuck me…hard.”
Her words didn’t match her timid demeanor, but he didn’t have any desire to wonder about the discrepancy. Instead, he raised her chin with two fingers and said, “I can and will give you what you ask for. Now tell me…is there anywhere on your body that I cannot touch?”
The woman nodded and pointed to her rear. “Here. Please don’t…”
Luke didn’t want her to explain herself. He didn’t want to know what may haunt her, what drove her to a sex club. He silenced her by trailing his fingers along her lips. “I won’t hurt you.” No matter how impersonal this encounter would be, she needed to know that she would be safe with him and that he would honor her hard limit.
Two more questions and he could get some relief. It would only be temporary, as it always was, but for that brief moment in time he could step out of his body and tainted mind and get lost with someone who also needed to escape reality. “Do you understand that you may not remove your blindfold?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Good.” He unzipped his pants and stepped out of them. She licked her lips and her breathing quickened. She wanted this. And he wanted a release. This was a need-for-need encounter. Nothing more. “Just one more question. Are you here of your own free will?”
The woman nodded, but her nonverbal response was not good enough this time. He needed to hear the word, that she was consenting to mindless, meaningless sex with him. This was non-negotiable. Without a yes as a response he would not lay a hand on her. “Answer in words.”
“Yes, I choose to be here with you. I want you to touch me…please.”