Текст книги "Rug Burns"
Автор книги: Cory Cyr
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
My body feels lighter as I grab my luggage and head toward the waiting car. I originally planned to go to the beach house but decide last minute to go to my condo. I’ve kept the place vacant for the last several months because I had a premonition I might need it. I thought about walking away from Keenan many times. But doing so hurt me down to the depths of my inner core. I think this is what they mean by soul mates. Being separated from him is bad enough, but never seeing him again would be the equivalent to losing my parents.
My place is dark and stuffy. I quickly unlock the windows, then draw open the blinds. I can smell rain in the air as I stare at the thunderous clouds. What I want is a bath. I’ve missed my pedestal tub, and while I’m soaking, I’ll derive a plan. I turn on some music, then begin to fill the tub. I pull off my clothes and slide in. Jesus, I’ve missed this. Twelve showerheads are great, but nothing compares to this luxury.
I stay in until the bubbles are gone and the water grows tepid. I change into sleepwear, then make my way to the kitchen. I snatch a bag of chips and a pint of gin. This is my secret stash kept in the upper far right cabinet. The chips are seven months expired, and I’ve already had enough to drink. Besides, I hate gin. I grab my phone, and forty-five minutes later, chicken chow mien, egg rolls, and fortune cookies are delivered. I could have done without the cookies. I’m the only one who can change my fortune, and currently, it looks bleak.
The rain begins to fall as I eat. I turn on the television for a bit, but I’m tired. My bones ache from the long flight. I try to hit pause on my thoughts, but what am I going to say to Keenan? I needed space, so I thought I’d leave you in another country and take the ten-hour flight home alone. Or better yet, Hey, I met an eighty-year-old woman who I told the most intimate secrets of our sex life, and by the way, I might have mentioned you have a humongous cock. I groan loudly. Damn, it doesn’t even sound good in my own head.
Tomorrow is another day, and at some point, I’ll have to face him. Either to justify my actions or end it. I need to call Haven too. I have no doubts she’s furious as well as frustrated with me. I have disappointed everyone, including myself.
I settle in my bed just as I hear a tapping sound. I go to the living room and grab the bat behind the door. It has always been my security weapon of choice. My mouth gapes open as I peer through the peephole.
Judgment day has come—early. I put it down and unlock the door.
“You’re still hiding the bat behind the door instead of setting the security system I paid for?” Keenan asks. He doesn’t sound angry, which makes me rather hopeful.
“What are you doing here?” I question as he barrels past me.
I’ve never seen him look so casual. The worn jeans with just a T-shirt stretched over his hard-bodied chest have me salivating for a touch. The ends of his blond hair have curled from the light rain. His eyes are so vivid they scorch me everywhere he stares. I forgot I’m wearing boy shorts and a sheer tank top. My nipples suddenly become erect from his gaze. Our eyes meet as I watch him lick his lips. Sexual attraction has never been an issue. This is just another case of us wanting to fuck each other. I can feel my sex clench from my thoughts. As though he can read my mind, I see his erection become prominent.
“Just tell me why.”
I sigh as I pinch the edge of my top. I then cross my arms to hide my breasts. “I just had to leave. You scared me with the impending countdown. You know how I hate to be told what to do outside of the bedroom,” I say, adding that last part hoping to throw some irony into the conversation.
“If you don’t love me and we don’t have a future, you could have told me that before we went to Scotland. Haven made a hundred excuses for you. Latch thinks you’re just jerking me around and I should move on.”
“Fucking cocksucker man whore,” I mutter under my breath.
“Reformed man whore whatever. I left right after I found out you were gone. Tell me you don’t love me. Just say it. At least then we can be finished and I can go.”
I can’t explain it. It feels so foreign to me. But I begin to cry. The sadness and anguish I’m experiencing just erupts. It’s like an outburst of emotional baggage I’ve carried for so long and it’s gotten too heavy. Within two minutes, I go from crying to hysterical sobbing to the cursed hiccups. Keenan’s face is a mask of horror. He’s never witnessed me losing it. I’m sure, after five years, he thought I was emotionally stunted. I never wanted him to witness me like this. I’d rather him think I’m aloof and cold. Everything I feel now is alien to me. I had no idea I was even capable of this kind of sentiment. He’s never seen me this melodramatic, and he is lost. I’m sure he’s seen other women cry, but I’ve always been unbending. Now, I openly display my weakness, knowing the one thing that can break and cripple me. Him.
“Baby, fuck… please… I can’t bear to see you cry. I can just go. I never meant to cause you this pain. Stop. You’re killing me,” he murmurs as he pulls me into a tight embrace.
I sob into his T-shirt, wiping my snotty nose on his sleeve. This is what women view as an ugly cry. Tears I have suppressed all my life flowing all at once.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Kee,” I bellow.
He pushes my hair away from my face as his eyes move to my mouth. I can see he’s emotional too and his eyes are damp. It only makes me weep more.
“Just tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll do anything. Even if it means giving you up and walking away, I will. I love you too much to see you in such agony. But I need to know what you want. I’ve never known true helplessness until I found out you’d left me. I didn’t feel complete again until you opened your door. But if I’m not who you want, I’ll go, because you’re the only thing that matters. I’d give it all up. You’re it. I knew it the first time we met. The minute you made me laugh. And when I got to know you, it changed everything. When you look at me, you see me—just a man. The money, the fame—it means nothing to you. I’ve never had that before. In your eyes, I’m just Kee, and to me, that’s my entire reason for being. Weezie, you are why I wake up in the morning and why my day isn’t complete until I lie beside you at night. You’re who I want to spend my life with.”
At the end of his monologue, he claims my mouth as he traces his tongue along the seam of my lips, pressing his body flush with mine, devouring me. I kiss him back with urgency. His breath in my lungs is life-affirming air. I pant softly as I break away from him. My tears have been supressed.
“I need you to make love to me,” I say quietly as I cling to his shirt. I can feel his heart hammering through his chest as I speak my confession.
When I stare up at him, he looks stunned. His eyes display disbelief. I’ve never asked him before. I always referred to us having sex as fucking. As much as I enjoy hard and dirty, what I need right now is slow and tender.
“I don’t understand,” he says, pulling back slightly.
“I love you,” I say as I pull my tank over my head. The words feel unfamiliar. I never had the chance to express those feelings to my parents, and Haven has been the only recipient of the actual words.
“How do you know?” he croaks out as his eyes greedily shift to my bare breasts.
I sigh. “I think I always knew. I always felt it. I just didn’t want to concede. I spent so much time trying to discourage myself from the inevitable. It took a stranger to make me say the words and admit the truth.
“I don’t understand, Weezie. A stranger?” he questions as he moves closer and reaches out to cup my neck.
“It was a long flight, and it appears excessive drinking made me quite chatty. It seems I told my life story to an eighty-year-old woman.”
He chuckles into the curve of my neck. “And she’s still alive? No one had to resuscitate her after you described in detail your wicked ways? Umm… you didn’t bring up my cock, did you?”
“I might have touched on it.”
“Maybe you should touch on it now.”
His lips trace a line from my neck and capture a nipple, sucking it into a hard tip. I bend backward as he continues to lick and nip both nipples. My pussy begins to throb as I crush myself against his thighs. I rub my body roughly against his hard shaft. I hear a growl come from him as our breathing grows desperate.
“I want to fuck you so badly, but we really need to sort out this shit first. Stop doing that,” he quips as he pulls me off him. His hand goes to his crotch to attempt manual arranging of his junk.
My pussy is at defcon one, along with my nipples. “I don’t want us to fuck anymore, Kee. I need you to make love to me, please.” I am pleading.
Keenan shakes his head. I can tell his body is fighting him. His brain might want a logical conversation, but his cock has a mind of its own—and it doesn’t want to talk.
“Tell me again. Tell me you love me,” he says as he backs away toward the sofa.
I rub my red, swollen eyes with one hand. “I love you, Keenan Stone.”
The sexiest, most beautiful man in the world rests his head in his hands as he sits on the sofa. When I hear his soft sobs, my immediate thought is to comfort this man. I move over to him and place a kiss on the top of his head. He looks up as our eyes meet.
I slide his shirt over his head, then pull him to me. I pepper his bare chest with kisses, as I bend to circle my tongue around his belly button. I continue tracing a path down to his waistband. I unbuckle his belt, then his jeans. I can hear his breathing begin to deepen. I tug down his jeans until he kicks them off. I grasp his jutting cock with both hands as I hear him hiss. Prominent veins bulge as an engorged crown leaks pearly drops of goodness, tempting me to taste him. But what I want is a connection.
“Make love to me.” I moan.
“Anything for you, baby. But I have conditions.”
“I figured as much,” I say, struggling to pull down my boy shorts. Once they’re on the floor, we both stand in front of each other naked.
“I’m going to ask you again. Will you marry me, Louisa Ann Miller,” he asks, falling once again to one knee.
It’s hard to be mad at a man who calls you by your given name while on one knee, proposing marriage. A naked Keenan Stone is nothing to sneeze at. But seeing him kneeling and nude—that would make a proud selfie.
“Yes, a million time yes—but I have stipulations too,” I reply.
“And they are?”
It’s hard to think clearly when the man you thought you lost is now standing in front of you sans clothing. I’ll have plenty of time post fucking to come up with my requirements. But for right now, as much as I enjoy the view, we need the ring. I pad over to the bar and grab my purse. Once I find the box, I hand it to Keenan. He quickly pulls out the cock-sized jewel and slides it onto my left hand.
I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as I kiss him. He carries me to the bedroom.
“Loving you has never been easy, but it is worth it. I knew the minute we met at the gala you would be a force of nature. A force that would influence my life forever.”
I snicker. I’ve been referred to as many things, but never a force of nature.
“Yeah, well, I knew you would be a pain in my ass and a thorn in my side. But somehow I fell in love with you regardless,” I said, teasing.
“You were supposed to fuck me and go home, Kee. I never imagined you’d hang around for five years. I was always worried you’d leave me for a younger model. I mean, what’s going to happen when I’m eighty?”
A flash of humor crosses his face. “Baby, when you’re eighty, I’ll be sixty-nine.”
My mouth forms an O. “Very good year. Do you think we’ll still be having sex?”
He laughs as he lays me on the bed. I stare as he begins to stroke himself attentively. I will never grow tired of watching him. “Will you still be able to get on your knees?”
Jesus, I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I’d better start practicing more agile positions for giving puff chores. I stare at the diamond glittering on my finger.
“You know, I could always purchase you some blinged-out kneepads to go with that ring.” He smiles as he moves toward the bed, letting his hands glide between my thighs. I spread my legs wide to accommodate his body as he positions himself between them.
“Maybe,” I murmur as my fingertips skim along his length. I watch as his eyes roll back and he groans. “But I could always find alternative ways to lip lock that herculean mass you call your cock.”
“I love you, baby,” he croons as he slips into me.
He satiates me completely. He’s right. It does feel like home. I can’t imagine a life without him. I’ve put him through so many ordeals to get to this point. I never thought I’d ever be worth loving, especially by someone like him. I no longer fear what’s coming, but embrace it. Because my destiny is with him and I have no doubt a future without Keenan would make my present unbearable.
I feel him swell as my muscles clench him tightly. My release is met with endearing words of love from my future husband.
“I love you too, Kee. I never totally shared myself with you. I only gave you a fraction. The rest I hid because I never believed you and I could be more. I fought these feelings for so long and I pushed you away so many times. But you never gave up on me—us. I can’t imagine how you found the strength to stay or why you bothered. But I’m glad you did. Because now I want you to have all of me. Everything you were denied is now yours. I belong to only you. I always will."
The End
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It always takes many to write a book. I pen the story. Robin Harper/Wicked by Design creates a cover that brings my idea to life. She’s an actual magician. My talented and patient editor Cassie McCown or as I think of her (Miracle worker: Extraordinaire)—it’s her job to take that sensual tale I’ve written and make sure that all the T’s are crossed and the I’s are dotted. In reality, she is the person that makes sure, what you read makes sense. My formatter Sharon Kay–She takes everything and somehow turns the interior into a work of art.
My author buds: Ahren Sanders, Kathy Coopmans, Cambria Hebert, Mary Ting, Desiree A. Cox, Arie Lane and Tracey Champion. You all inspire me daily. I want to be you when I grow up! You listen to my vents, answer questions and offer me support.
My friends: Lori, Ben, Dee Dee, Jan, Jo and Katrina: I love you all.
I have many in my fan group but I need to shout out to Dusty Summerfield, Lynne White, Jeanna Salazar, Laura Lee and many more who spend their time making sure everyone knows who I am and what I write. They do it all week long, without compensation—just because they are fans. I appreciate their constant support more than I can say. Melissa Darling, you are the best! Thank you for taking the “temporary” PA position and deciding to keep it. I feel like my “Dream Team” is now complete.
Danielle Green Linhart, thank you for the awesome swag you create every time I release a book. Christopher John, we will meet one day, I swear. You’re such a great photographer and a virtual BFF. Thank you for photographing Derek Poole and allowing him to make Keenan a reality.
I could write ten more pages regarding all the bloggers, authors, and Facebook friends that have helped me along the way to make my dreams come true. Even if you haven’t been mentioned, I know who you are and your support is valued and appreciated.
Ruby Barrera. I hope you love your character. She became a very prominent figure in just one chapter.
Brandy Defires-Swendt: You are the ULTIMATE Reviving Haven fan. No matter what is going on in your life-you are always there to support me. Until I met you, I thought I was strong. I had no idea what being resilient meant until you became a part of my life. You are a freaking WARRIOR!
OTHER BOOKS BY CORY CYR
Bite & Release
Reviving Haven
Acquiesce
The Reason I Breathe (Bite & Release 2)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I began writing music and poetry at an early age. My love of music became my sole focus and I spent quite a few years as the lead singer for many local rock bands. In high school, I was fascinated with the macabre and started writing science fiction and horror stories so dark they earned me the nickname "Gory Cory."
After years of writing dark tales, I never thought in a million years my first published books would be Adult Romance—themed younger men/older women. My books are written for ages over 18.
You can find me:
Email: [email protected]
www.authorcorycyr.com
Cory Cyr newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bdU6vz
