Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology

by Skye MacKinnon

  “Ya know, most girls prefer chocolates.”

  I straighten and lean against the door frame to steady myself. “You’re not like most girls.”

  Amy shoves the cabbage in my chest. “You’re right. I’m not.”

  “Wanna come in?” I push the door wide open.

  She peers into the room and smiles but shakes her head. “We agreed, remember.”

  “I’m renegotiating.” I lean in closer and Amy holds her ground. “Eric’s gone for a week.”

  Amy crosses and uncrosses her arms, before setting her hands on her hips. “A week, huh?”

  I lift the cabbage up. “You can teach me how to make egg rolls.” I wag my eyebrows up and down at her.

  Amy giggles. “Oh, so it’s cooking lessons you want?”

  “Hmm…” I lean in, closing the distance between our lips, and stop ninety percent of the way. I hover over her mouth, waiting for her to make the final move. A small whiff of perfume circles me, captures me. Fuck, I hope she’ll stay. I whisper, “No. I want you.”

  Soft lips press up against mine, and I steal my arms around Amy.

  One step back, and we’re in Eric’s apartment. I close and lock the door.

  Her arms link behind my neck and she hops up, wrapping her delicious legs around my waist. “I need to call Em and let her know…” She presses her chest to mine and reaches behind her. I nuzzle her neck. Her fingers stop tapping out a text. I press her up against the wall and her phone falls to the floor. There’s one too many barriers between us. Pinning her with my hips, I draw her hands above her head.

  Clasping her wrists together with one hand, I whisper, “Don’t move.”

  Amy nods and rolls her hips. “Whatever you say.”

  I brush my lips lightly over hers and then along the column of her neck. She moans. It’s not enough. I bring my mouth back to hers and gently pull her bottom lip between mine. Amy’s tongue seeks out mine. I give her what she wants. Amy sucks hard and the memory of her giving me a blowjob blinds me. Nobody ever sucked me off like her. I run my hands down her arms and along her sides. The good girl she is, Amy keeps her hands where I left them.

  Her cheeks flush red. I unbutton her coat to slip my hand in to squeeze the soft mounds that I know fit perfectly in my palms. I graze my teeth along her neck and then nip at her sensitive skin. I’ve never given someone a hickey. It always seemed like a juvenile thing to do, but the desire to mark Amy as mine overtakes my good sense. I roll one taut nipple between my fingers. Fuck, I want her naked and bent over.

  Amy whimpers as I flick the bud that I can’t wait to have in my mouth. As I carry her to the couch, Amy strips out of her coat and a flimsy silk blouse. Before Amy’s ass hits the cushion, she has the string of my favorite gray sweats undone and is tugging them over my hips. My wallet is sitting in the middle of the side table. I stretch out to grab it before stepping out of my pants. Like a fucking teenager, I fumble for the condom that’s been sandwiched in a pocket for a year. Amy shimmies out of her own jeans and panties. Damn. My eyes are immediately drawn to the landing strip that she keeps neatly trimmed. I miss that pussy. I’ve been dreaming about burying my head between Amy’s sweet thighs for a year. People call me impatient, reckless, fucking obsessed—all true. Nothing is going to stop me. I’m going to convince Amy to give me a chance.

  The foil packet falls next to her and I drop to my knees.

  “I want this off.” Amy hauls my t-shirt over my head.

  Wedged between her legs, I dip my head and swipe my tongue along her slit. “Hmmm…and I want you.” A little pressure on her clit with my tongue. I stuff two fingers in her.

  Amy writhes and moans. I pump my fingers in and out, slowly at first and then harder and faster to mimic the pace I want to take when I have my cock fully buried in her. Alternating between circling and flicking her clit, I stop at the sound of the condom wrapper ripping. I tilt my head up and catch Amy’s sexy, lopsided smile. I stand, my cock fully erect. She rolls on the rubber. Fuuuck. The reality of her hands wrapped around my dick is so much better than the fantasy. I tried to recreate that feeling in my brain for the past year every time I jacked off. Nothing comes close. Amy runs her hands up my body and follows it up with kisses. Each brush of her lips causes more blood to rush to my cock. I’m so hard it hurts. Without warning, she turns and kneels on the couch, pressing that sweet, round ass into me, shredding every bit of my self-control. I grab her hips and plough into her.

  Amy moans. “Don’t stop.” Her fingers go white, gripping the back of the couch.

  I don’t ease up until she screams, “Oh shit, I’m coming.”

  When her tight pussy spasms, I stop holding back. I bury myself deep in her until I find my own release. It’s corny as hell, but fucking Amy is utterly mind blowing, earth shattering, and every other line poets have used to describe orgasms.

  My knees buckle, and I drop to the couch. I take care of the damn condom, launching it into the trash can in the corner. Amy crawls into my lap and rests her head against my shoulder. Her eyes are closed and her breathing evens out quickly. This. This is what I have craved for so long. Amy Wang. Naked and in my arms.

  Chapter 4

  Amy

  I trail my finger over Drew’s six pack. Smooth skin. No tattoos. No scars. And white. White as the sheets wrapped around me. We haven’t left the apartment for two days. Life is supposed to be simple. Get good grades, go to college, land a job and then fall in love…with a guy from a good Chinese family. Not a blonde, blue-eyed pop star that travels around the world for three quarters of the year.

  Drew’s abs ripple under my cheek and his long fingers run through my matted hair. Gently working the knots out, he says, “I have three more cabbages.”

  I prop myself up on my elbows and smile. “Seriously, you want me to stay another three days?” I don’t want to leave. I really should end things before I fall more in love with this guy that makes the real-world fade to nothing. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”

  “Call in sick.”

  I’m the worst fibber in the world. I flop back down and rest my head back on his flat stomach. “Sorry, can’t.”

  His dick twitches under the sheets. I slide my hand over his thigh and wrap my fingers around his cock. My fingertips don’t even come close to touching. Shimmying lower, I lick the pre-cum off the head of his already hard dick, eager to wrap my lip around him. Drew makes the most deliciously low growls when I suck him off.

  Chapter 5

  Drew

  Sprawled out on my stomach on top of the bed, I lace my fingers under my chin and stare at the bathroom door. Over the last three hours, I’ve asked her three times to go on an actual date with me. Four times to just go somewhere, anywhere, with me—no pressure. Each time, she shook her head and started doing things to me I’m still not mature enough to say no to. Not that I’m complaining. Much. But when she gets out of the shower and opens that door, I need to have a plan. I need to convince her I want more than just a tumble when I’m in town. I want her all the time…my dick can’t get enough of her pussy. And it sure as hell turns me on when she makes the first move. Tomorrow’s Monday, and it would be a jerk move to guilt her into staying a couple more days in bed with me.

  I pad over to the bathroom and press my forehead to the closed door. “Hey, what do you think of the idea of me picking you up after work for a bite to eat?”

  The water shuts off but Amy doesn’t answer. I nearly stumble right into her when the door opens.

  She’s got a towel wrapped around her body and another twisted on top of her head. “You are persistent. But the answer is still no.”

  “Tell me why and I’ll stop asking.”

  She lowers her gaze to my chest. “You’re a Walton, not a Chen or a Wu, and my parents want me to marry… you know…”

  “A guy like Eric.” I walk back to the bed and sit on the edge. “Are you sure your parents don’t want a Walton in the fam?”

  She comes to stand in front of
me and wiggles her way between my thighs. I put my hands on her hips. I want her, but we need to have this discussion. I stare at the knot sitting in the valley between her breasts. “I can be very charming. Parents normally love me.” I’ve never really tried before, but for Amy I’d do anything.

  “It’s not only my parents.” She rests her hands on my shoulders and I peer up at her. Amy smiles and continues, “You’re a pop star. I’m a bank manager. You travel the world. I go to work in the same building five days a week. You…”

  I guide her to sit on my leg. “I know that my life is… well… not normal. But I’m pretty sure you know who inspired my last album. I need you. Not just for one night. Not for a weekend. Not just when I’m in New York.”

  “Sooo… you really want to take me out on a date.”

  “Yes.” I give a quick peck and then add, “And… I want to meet your parents, too. If they hate me, then I’ll disappear, and I won’t toss any more cabbages your way.”

  “No more cabbages? Damn, you are setting the stakes high.” She runs a finger along the edge of my ear. “I have dinner with them every Wednesday. I guess you could join us.”

  YES! Success. Since I’m on a roll, I ask, “What about dinner tonight?”

  “I can’t. I promised to hang out with Em.” She stands and turns to head back to the bathroom.

  “Oh… so you can talk about me?”

  Over her shoulder, she gives me a wink. “Aha. Yep. Sure.”

  She doesn’t even make it past the threshold before I wrap my arms around her. Amy giggles, and it’s the cutest sound. My heart melts.

  I pick her up and carry her back to the bed. “What time do you need to head back next door?”

  “Em said she’d be home from work around seven.”

  We glance at the clock on the nightstand. Five-thirty. Plenty of time to convince Amy to have dinner with me. I loosen the towel and nuzzle her neck. “Promise you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow, after work.” I circle her nipple with my tongue.

  Amy moans and says, “I promise, if you promise to bring me back here after dinner.”

  Oh, I plan on fucking her for the rest of my life, but I’ll have to take it slow or she just might bail. “You have yourself a deal. But right now, I’m going to fuck you until the very last moment before you have to leave.” Amy smiles and lets her eyes flutter close as I trail my tongue down her center until I reach her wet pussy. Amy’s going to be my dinner tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Amy

  Every Wednesday, Em and I go have dinner with my parents. Tonight, Drew is with us. My mom seated Drew in between my dad and me. I can’t even meet my dad’s gaze. I don’t want to see his disappointment and disapproval, so I stare at my hands in my lap. Drew’s hand covers mine.

  I jump in my seat a little when my dad says, “So Drew, what do you do for work?” Of course it’s the first question my dad asks.

  Em answers for Drew, “He’s in the entertainment business, uncle.” We’re not related by blood, but we were raised to call anyone our parents’ age uncle and auntie. Em grins as she passes the rice bowl to my dad. “He’s well respected in those circles.”

  Drew shuffles his chair in and leans forward, “I’m a singer-songwriter, Mr. Wang.”

  My dad’s expression remains unimpressed. He passes me the rice bowl and the accusing arrows hit me dead center in the chest. It’s going to be a long, painful evening.

  I can’t meet my dad’s gaze, but I infuse my voice with pride and declare, “He’s the lead singer for Dark Lovers.”

  Mom’s eyes go wide. “Aya…‘Pocket for My Memories’ is my favorite song on the radio.” She offers Drew the veggie dish. “Makes me think of Amy.”

  “Me too.” Drew takes the bowl and peeks at it. “Oh, I love cabbage, Mrs. Wang.”

  I want to die.

  Em raises her napkin to her mouth, covering her all-knowing smirk. “Auntie, dinner looks amazing.”

  Blushing at the compliment, my mom replies, “Not as good as Eric’s cooking. Have you seen him?”

  I could kiss Em for diverting the conversation, even if it means bringing up Eric. Returning the favor, I answer, “He’s out of town. Drew’s actually house sitting for him.”

  “You don’t have your own place?” My dad spears Drew with a glare.

  Drew swallows a mouthful and shrugs. “I do in Tribeca.”

  “Whoa…celebrity Manhattan.” My mom gasps. “You are a good friend to take care of Eric’s place. That Mr. Crestwater is always taking our Eric here, there, everywhere.”

  Em snickers. “That’s what he gets for choosing to be a personal cook for a billionaire.”

  Drew frowns. “Eric’s more than Damien’s chef.” His tone is rather defensive.

  Em and I glance at each other. “Really?”

  Drew’s gaze flickers about the table. “Uh. Yea.” He doesn’t elaborate and lets the silence hang in the air.

  Waving his chopsticks in the air, my dad asks, “How do you know Eric?”

  “I stayed in the same frat house as Eric and Damien.”

  This is news to me. I’d never have guessed in a million years Drew was a frat boy. Then again, it’s hard to imagine Eric living in a frat house. I set my spoon down in my bowl. “You went to Stanford?”

  “Yeah, I graduated the same year as Eric.”

  He says it like it’s no big deal to get graduate from a university with an acceptance rate of less than five percent. Who is this guy? What do I really know about Drew?

  Unrelenting, my dad asks, “You got a degree—in what?”

  Drew shifts and meets my dad’s stare head on. “Engineering.”

  Are you kidding? My dad owns his own engineering firm.

  All traces of disapproval vanish with that one word. The two of them launch into some obscure discussion about virtual modeling, simulations, and blah blah blah. When I think they’re finally done, Drew throws out more engineering terms that are more effective than a sleeping pill on me. But I grin and nod because my dad finally has someone at the table that he can converse with rather than just growling at us in disapproval.

  Chapter 7

  Drew

  The goal of dinner is to win over Amy’s parents, but as the meal progresses, Amy and Emily’s side glances lengthen, and my gut says their non-verbal conversations are not at all flattering. Amy won’t even meet my gaze, and she’s hardly said a word all night.

  Mrs. Wang discreetly arches an eyebrow at Amy.

  Amy and Emily start gathering up dishes and I reach for an empty plate to help.

  Mrs. Wang slaps my hand. “You stay and talk.”

  Amy disappears into the kitchen with Emily and her mom. I swivel back in my seat.

  Mr. Wang smiles. “You love my daughter?”

  “To be honest, sir. I haven’t known Amy long. But this past year on tour…I haven’t been able to think about anything but her.”

  “She doesn’t like to travel…gets motion sickness when she flies.”

  It’s a test. But if I want to have a relationship with Amy, her parents will have to like the real me. “I hear Dramamine works wonders.”

  Chuckling, Mr. Wang stands. “I believe you are correct.”

  Hands full with leftover containers, Emily reappears, followed by Amy and Mrs. Wang. I follow Amy to the front entrance, where Emily passes the containers to Amy to put on her shoes and then takes the food back. It’s a seamless transfer, one they have probably done a million times. Bent to tie my laces, I spy Mr. Wang giving Amy a hug goodbye and then Emily.

  Straightening, I wobble a little when Mrs. Wang gives me a hug. “Come back soon.”

  I’m pretty sure I’m not on hugging terms with Mr. Wang yet and thankfully Amy’s dad gives me a nod.

  “G’night, Mr. and Mrs. Wang. Thanks for dinner.” I wave goodbye and follow the girls out to the car, waiting to take us all home.

  Amy lets Em get in first. Instead of hopping in the car, Amy turns and for the first time sin
ce I laid eyes on her, fear fills my entire body.

  She flattens a palm right over my heart. “I’m sorry.”

  Fuck. I messed up. I swallow the lump stuck in my throat.

  She rolls up onto her toes. “I should’ve had more faith in you.” Her voice breaks. Then her hands curl into fists and she tugs on my shirt, bringing me closer. “I might not know everything I should about you, Drew Walton, but I love you.”

  An emotion I’ve never experienced before rolls through me. But it’s one I know I’ll be writing and singing about for years. I bridge the space between us and just before our lips touch, I tell her, “I love my cabbage tosser. I love you, Amy Wang.”

  I hope you enjoyed His Cabbage Tosser – Want more of Eric and Mr. Crestwater?

  Grab your copy of Two for Dinner today: https://books2read.com/TwoForDinner.

  About the Author

  Rachel A. Smith is a romance addict. She’ll watch any movie and read all the books that have romance in it. She offers readers stories that are filled with seduction between the sheets: page-turning contemporary romances that make you laugh, sigh, and want more.

  She also writes historical romance under Rachel Ann Smith. Get to know her other literary ego who writes stories set in the Regency time period with a twist.

  You can visit Rachel’s website to signup for either of her newsletters to get the latest updates and be entered into monthly giveaways: www.rachelannsmith.com.

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