Wicked Winters: A Collection of Winter Tales

by Lucy Smoke

  “Okay!” I screamed.

  "Do you give up?" Darren asked.

  "YES!"

  "Say 'uncle’!" Taylor demanded.

  "Uncle!"

  Darren chuckled and pulled his hands away from my ticklish spots, tucking my head under his chin as he sat with his arms around me. It shocked me how right I felt being between the two of them. The only thing missing was—

  "Yo!" My ears perked up as I heard Cody's voice call out to us. Our gazes strayed to the entrance of the library. "The car is already defrosted. You guys down to go get some breakfast before we head back to the dorms and crash?"

  I smiled as Taylor and Darren helped me stand up. I didn't need gloves or mittens because with each of them holding one of my hands, they were the perfect heaters. Cody walked straight up to me, palming my head as he kissed me soundly. I laughed when he pulled away.

  "What was that for?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "Just because I can. Let's go." Dex waited down the ramp, around the side of the building where the small parking lot was. He straightened when we approached, and Darren and Taylor let go of my hands to each open a door and get in. Dex slung an arm around my shoulders and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of my head.

  "How do pancakes sound?" he asked.

  The sun peeked over the buildings across the street, shining rays of orange, yellow, and gold across the plain white snow under our boots.

  "Is anything even open?" I asked as he opened the passenger door for me.

  "The university was the only place that lost power last night," he said. "We probably have time to head back and change if you want, but I predict that most businesses aren't going to be closed when everyone is going to want to go out for hot chocolate and food."

  "Hot chocolate sounds good," I said.

  "Then get your cute ass in the car, baby." He smacked my ass as I gripped the top of the car door to bend into the front seat. I sat hard, casting an amused glance at him. He smirked and opened the back door to squeeze in with Darren and Taylor.

  "We'll come back for your cars later," Cody said from the driver’s seat as he cranked up the heat.

  "No worries," Darren replied.

  Cody reached over and took my hand as he shifted gears and pulled out of the parking lot. Last night I had been so worried about passing my final. Now, all of that anxiety was gone, and it was thanks to them. I glanced over my shoulder at the three men in the backseat. I didn’t know what I had done this year to deserve such an amazing gift, but I was so incredibly thankful that I’d decided to take that study break after all. And who knew, maybe after Christmas was over … there’d be more to look forward to in the new semester.

  Epilogue

  Taylor

  4 weeks later...

  "Are you sure about this?" Though she was far more focused on what was happening across the cafeteria, I couldn't help but smile down at Jamie's slightly upturned face. It was as if her face wanted to rise to meet mine, but her eyes couldn't help but scan the rest of the room. I knew what she was thinking, what she was worrying about.

  Victoria.

  I forced myself not to scowl at the name. Instead, I focused on the woman in my arms, next to my side. "Sure am, sugar tits," I said jovially.

  Jamie's eyes rose to meet mine and though she tried to give me a reproachful look, the corners of her lips were twitching with amusement. I touched the tip of her nose with my finger before leaning down and covering her mouth with mine. Four stinking weeks away from her after our first night together had been hell, but today was the first day back for the new semester and I had nothing but hope.

  "Be serious," she chastised when we separated, color high on her cheeks.

  "I'm completely serious," I replied, "about you."

  Her pretty blue eyes rolled, but I could tell by the lingering of her blush that she liked it. I urged her forward as we headed toward the back of the cafeteria eating section, looking for the others.

  "What if someone asks?" The soft tone of her voice trembled with anxiety. No amount of reassurances over winter break had made it go away. I was glad now that we were together again and I didn't have to wait to call her or see her over the screen of my laptop.

  "What if they do?" I replied. "Who cares?"

  "People do," she said.

  Just then, I spotted Darren's dark head several inches above the general student populace milling about. I ushered her toward him, but she didn't appear to have noticed him yet. I sighed as I placed my hands on her shoulders and stopped completely, and turned her toward me.

  "Tell them whatever you want, sweetie," I said, leaning down to make sure that her attention was completely focused on me. "Tell them you're dating one of us. Tell them you're dating all of us. Tell them we're just friends."

  Her lips trembled slightly. "You would be okay with that?" she asked. "Me denying our ... relationship like that?"

  Taking her hands in mine was the easiest thing I'd ever done. "We know we're asking you to do something unconventional," I told her. "We know it's scary, but we're all willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you stay. If that means keeping it a secret for a little while longer—until you're ready—then that's fine."

  "But the others—"

  "They agree with me," I said, cutting her off. I knew that for a fact. We'd sat up long into the night discussing how things would be when we got back. What we knew for sure, however, was that she was going to feel utterly terrified of how others would react. But the fact was—our relationship was our business no one else's. Not the schools. Not friends. And certainly not Victoria's.

  "I think Victoria's already suspicious, though," Jamie confessed, as if she could sense the direction of my thoughts.

  "Let her be," I said, shaking my head and dropping her hands to wrap an arm around her shoulders. I began to steer her through the crowd. "We've got a surprise for you, anyway."

  "A surprise?" She blinked up at me. "What is it?"

  I grinned. "I'll let the others tell you," I said as we stopped in front of a table and she realized where we were and who was there.

  "Jamie!" Cody stood up and came around to us. I stepped back to give him some room as Jamie squealed and flung herself at him. No doubt four weeks away had made her miss him—all of them really. She'd done the very same thing when I'd gone to get her from her dorm room.

  Cody squeezed her in a hug and I could tell by the tensing of his muscles that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but we'd talked about this. I'd actually broken the rules with my little kiss earlier, but I hadn't been able to help myself. Not with her panicking. Not with her warmth and feminine scent right there. God, I couldn't wait to get her alone again.

  Jamie finished hugging Cody and moved from him to Dex and then to Darren before stepping back and smiling around at the four of us. "Taylor said you guys had a surprise for me," she said.

  "We do, baby," Dex agreed with a nod.

  "Well?" she pressed. "What is it?"

  The four of us shifted our gazes around, but before anyone else got the opportunity, Cody spoke. "We got an apartment together," he announced.

  Jamie's jaw dropped open. "An apartment?"

  Darren stepped closer to her and grinned. "We thought things would be a little easier if we had our own place, sorta, to do ... things..." His eyes scanned to either side as if making sure no one was close enough to overhear.

  "It will at least give you some time to get used to the idea of us," Dex said.

  "Victoria—" she began.

  "Will be dealt with if she becomes a problem," Cody interrupted.

  Jamie shook her head as if she couldn't believe it, but this was it. This was our solution. She could take time if she wanted, but none of us were giving up. She was ours and that was what she'd stay as long as we could help it.

  I stepped up to Jamie's back and wrapped my arms around her. Sure, other people might assume that this was a lover's stance, but it could always be denied as friendship. But friendship
for this girl was not what I felt. I leaned into her and lowered my head until my lips were right by her ear.

  "I know just what I want to do to break in the new place," I whispered, feeling her whole buddy shutter against me.

  But my girl wasn't one to just take. She was a giver too. Jamie's back pressed further back and the arches of her feet lifted to bring her ass right up against my cock. A mixture of gold and brown hair flung to the side as she glanced back at me and grinned.

  "Bring it on," she said.

  Oh, I would, I thought in response. We all would.

  Did you enjoy Study Break? Want to know what happens next with Jamie and her men? Grab the Break Series Volume one with the new and improved Book 2. This includes both your own copy of Study Break as well as the book 2, Tough Break. Download it here!

  About Lucy Smoke

  Lucy Smoke, also known as Lucinda Dark for her fantasy works, has a master’s degree in English and is a self-proclaimed creative chihuahua. She enjoys feeding her wanderlust, cover addiction, as well as her face. When she’s not on a never-ending quest to find the perfect milkshake, she lives and works in the southern United States with her beloved fur-baby, Hiro, and her family and friends.

  Ready to read more from Lucy Smoke?

  Subscribe today here.

  Join Lucy’s Smoking Hot Readers’ group for exclusive content, latest news, and giveaway. Click here.

  The Thief Of Hearts

  Ripley Proserpina

  A stolen artifact...

  A mysterious group of brothers...

  After years of working her way to the top, Shira Rose is finally curating her first art exhibit and auction at the exclusive Lohse and Gottleib House. But when she’s thrust into the middle of a decades-old mystery, what should be the culmination of her dreams turns into a disaster.

  And it only gets worse.

  With only eight days until the auction, the gallery is robbed and Shira ends up running for her life. In the nick of time, four dark figures step out of the shadows to save her life.

  But things don’t add up, and Shira begins to wonder—can she trust these men? Or is she merely a pawn in a darker game?

  The Thief of Hearts © Ripley Proserpina 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for in the case of brief quotations for the use in critical articles or reviews.

  The characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Dedicated to Annie

  For support, editing, and explosive ordinance disposal.

  1

  The First Night

  Director Lohse ignored Shira’s knock. Even through the thick wood, she could hear him, yelling at the person on the other end of the phone line. Shira laid her ear against the wood to hear better.

  “—I need the goddamned papers, Gottleib!”

  Shira jerked her head back and stepped away from the door. She wasn’t sure what it was Director Lohse wanted, but she had every suspicion it had to do with the upcoming auction at the Lohse and Gottleib House.

  A ball of nerves squeezed her stomach tight, and made the coffee she’d been drinking all day bubble warningly. This auction was Shira’s first, and what she’d been working toward since graduating with a Master’s of Fine Arts more years ago than she cared to count.

  Shira had painstakingly hand selected each piece going into this exhibit and auction. For the first time, her name would be identified as curator.

  Lohse and Gottleib House was a relatively new establishment, though the owners and co-directors, Bruno Lohse and Hermann Gottleib, were powerhouse brokers in the art world.

  When this curator job was advertised, the opportunity made her giddy with excitement. Still, she’d done her research about the owners before applying.

  Oh, she’d heard their names before, but she didn’t really know anything about them. A brief investigation into their backgrounds showed her this could be the break into the art world she was waiting for.

  The list of galleries where Lohse and Gottleib had worked, or negotiated art deals, blew Shira away. Some of the galleries were places she dreamed of visiting. While the artists for whom they brokered deals had sold out shows, results in commissions Shira couldn’t fathom.

  She backed down the hallway, her gaze on the director’s door. A breath of relief huffed out of her as she turned the corner.

  Had she thought being a docent at the Museum of Modern Art, and an assistant educational staff had prepared her for a job as curator? If so, she was a fool. What she’d observed hadn’t prepared her for the pressure of being solely responsible for a multimillion dollar art collection.

  “Forbidden.” The sign she’d helped design glared at her as she passed through the gallery on her way to her office. She’d been so excited about this collection.

  And then today had happened.

  Five wooden crates appeared at the gallery earlier in the day. Five crates of pieces she hadn’t prepared for, promoted, or researched.

  “Galleries need a gimmick, Ms. Rose,” Director Lohse had sneered. How had she overlooked the sneering during her interview? “Ours will be the surprise appearance of art.”

  Shira sat on her rolling chair and pulled herself to her desk to stare at the file folders.

  There were seven days left until the auction, and Lohse expected her to seamlessly integrate the pieces he’d procured into her catalogue.

  Her cell phone blazed to life, ring tone blaring so it could be heard over trucks, and drills, and construction sounds that could drown it out in the gallery.

  “Shit!” Shira clapped her hand over her heart. As the name appeared on the screen, her stomach sank. Nerves that had already been strung tight vibrated and snapped. Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the phone, but she forced herself to answer. “Hello?”

  “Shira? Where are you? You don’t like my latkes anymore?”

  A throb began behind her left eye and she pressed her thumb against her temple. “Hi, Grandma.”

  “The sun is down, the table is set, and you’re not here. Is my granddaughter, the girl I’m so proud of, on her way to light the menorah with her aging grandparents? ‘No,’ my daughter tells me. ‘She’s working late. Too busy at her job.’” In the background, Shira heard a groan, clearly her mother’s.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma. I have so much to do. This is my first—”

  “Yes, yes. So important. I understand, but I’d hoped your mother was wrong. ‘Somehow,’ I said to myself, ‘my granddaughter will find a way.’ I even saved a place for you at the table.”

  Shira dropped her head to her desk, rolling her forehead against the wooden end. She had a feeling when she lifted it, she’d have a line imprinted into her skin, but she didn’t care. “I’m so sorry, Grandma. I’ll try to be there tomorrow.”

  “Oh, it’s fine, my love. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Work is important. We’ll be here when you’re not too busy for us anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, stupidly. There was nothing else for it. She deserved every bit of guilt her grandma was heaping onto her head. Though, in less exhausted and anxious moments, she’d probably recognize the woman was pushing some of the limits on the guilt tonight. Yes, it was the first night of Hanukkah, and yes, she usually gathered with all of her family to light the menorah, but even her mother hadn’t balked when she’d explained the situation.

  “I love you, sweetie. Happy Hanukkah.”

  “Happy Hanukkah, Grandma,” Shira replied tiredly.

  Her grandmother hung up, and she blinked. In front of her, the file folders containing the provenances of the artwork Lohse had delivered seemed to pulse. Deal with me, they said. You know you have to.

  Provenance papers came with every piece of artwork Shira had ever encountered. She’d spent much of her time in graduate school pori
ng over them, tracing the chronology from artist to owner, to gallery, to museum—all to establish that the piece was what people claimed.

  In seven days, every piece of art the director had laid at her door would go up for auction. And its provenance would need to be airtight.

  The theme of the auction was “Forbidden.” Shira’s catalogue contained pieces of artwork that had all been censored at one time or another.

  She’d been so proud of it.

  Not only had she managed to acquire paintings, but she’d had some unique pieces as well—a handwoven prayer shawl hidden by a Jewish family as they fled from Russian pogroms. An original photograph of Diego Rivera in front of his mural Man at the Crossroads, before it was taken down by Nelson Rockefeller because it included an image of Lenin.

  But these? The pieces Lohse had laid at her feet and told her to include? She had no idea what they were or where they came from. She didn’t know how they would integrate into her theme, or if they did at all.

  With a groan, she dropped her head to the desk again, lifted it once, and let it fall.

  “Ms. Rose!” Her door swung open, hitting the back wall.

  “Yes?” Shira spun to face Director Lohse. “Yes, Sir?”

  “You have five of eight provenances on your desk, correct?”

  Without looking, she nodded. She’d counted the files, but hadn’t opened them. “Yes, Director.”

  “Have you opened them?” Director Lohse was a tall, imposing man. His gray hair was short, cut and styled perfectly, and his broad shoulders stretched the seams of his suit. He was an aging cover model, a prime example of how wealth translated into health.