Authors: Rachel Brookes
BE MY DECEMBER
Copyright © 2014 Rachel Brookes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold, shared or given away to other people.
Be My December is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and occurrences are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
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This book contains content that may be offensive to some readers.
Including sexual assault (flashbacks), adult situations, and graphic language.
Dedicated to those who thought they lost it all.
Life will give you the greatest gift when you least expect it.
“I said no Jeremy!”
The sound of my weak, pleading voice didn’t offer my shivering body one piece of desperately craved strength. The skin on my arm seared under his dominant grip and I could barely keep up with his broad stride through the empty college grounds. At one point I swear my feet weren’t even touching the graveled ground below.
“Man, where you going?”
A savior’s voice rang out through the freezing air and we stopped moving. Safety was close. A glimmer of hope hit me as my eyes darted around the darkness trying to make out who was coming to my rescue.
“Help,” I choked out, my voice lost in the severe coldness around me.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jeremy Davis snarled at me and his threatening grip tightened on my arm. “Just heading to the dorm to grab some more booze, will be back at the party soon.” He said loudly, his voice calm and way too convincing.
We remained still, waiting for my savior’s next move. I prayed to every god there was that he would offer to help, that he would move closer and be able to make me out but he remained in the shadows, simply a distant voice.
“Please, let me go.” I begged and my heart sunk as my savior disappeared into the pitch black night sky.
The dwindling temperature of December in New York was the least of my worries as the wind swirled around my naked shoulders, fiercely biting my flesh. Every word I spluttered out between clenched teeth was laced with pure fear. Where was the stubborn, strong and highly resilient Eden Rivers who had stepped through the doors of her first keg party only hours ago?
I stumbled on the heel of my boot as possessive hands thrust sharply in my back as we began to move. I went up the stairs toward the dorm rooms with such intensity that my long, dark hair whipped sharply around my face. The moment I was pushed through the door, my eyes desperate to adjust to the darkness of the room, bounced around the four walls around me. The glow from the street light briefly illuminated the space but I wished there was no light at all. My shallow breathing and the grunts of the man who stalked toward me like a possessed animal broke the silence. A petrified shiver cascaded down my back as reality slammed me squarely in the chest and I was soon backed up against the far wall with no escape. His face was brutal, stone cold and evil. My eyes slammed shut as his hands manhandled me, running over my breasts, down my sides, and soon fumbling in the confines of my panties. I pushed against his broad chest with every ounce of strength I could muster, but it was useless and he barely moved.
“No! No! No!” I screamed over and over again, so loudly that my voice went hoarse and barely audible. Survival instincts kicked in and my nails scratched at his face and my body thrashed in pure fight.
A vicious blow to my left cheek stole the air from my lungs and my mouth was invaded by the metallic taste of blood. My vision instantly went hazy and I swayed on my feet. “That’s going to be the biggest fucking mistake of your life Eden! Big fucking mistake,” Jeremy hissed, his spittle hitting my face and bringing me back to reality.
In the minutes that followed, as the perfect world I knew was destroyed, I ceased to exist as Eden Rivers. With the ruthless tear of my panties clean from my body and the pain of a thousand knives digging into the most sacred part of my body, the one place no one had been before, everything disappeared around me and I vanished into darkness as blow after blow tore within me.
From that moment, I would become a yes girl—as saying no seemed to be the worst decision I ever made.
“I am sooooooooooooooo getting my dick wet tonight.”
What the fuck?
I rolled my eyes at the over-exaggeration of my pussy obsessed brother’s admission as he burst through my apartment like he fucking owned the place. Friday afternoon fuck-ups were happening all over the place at work so at two o’clock I had left the office and decided to escape to my apartment to get some much needed work done—well, until Josh decided to turn up. My assistant had gone home sick earlier in the day, the marketing department fucked up the advertisements for the next issue, and there was an issue mounting in the Los Angeles office that I was going to have to sort out—and now I was dealing with my over-eager brother.
“You whip out lines like that yet you still wonder why Mom asks why you are single?” I shot at him as I stood from the couch and moved towards the kitchen.
“Dude, you and I both know that single is what we do best.”
My deep laugh ricocheted off the cream walls of my thirteenth floor apartment, walls that were lined with black and white abstract photographs of major cities around the world including Paris, Sydney, New York, and London. My job at Anderson Publications allowed me to revel in escapism—traveling and working obscenely long hours. It provided me with the distraction I needed and allowed my fucked-up head a moment of peace from the regrets that constantly haunted me.
My life had been a whirlwind since I started working at Anderson Publications. Anderson Publications was an internationally renowned publishing company, founded by my father’s best friend, Roger Anderson, a man who had without a doubt saved me more times than he would ever know.
During college, as I double majored in Business and Marketing, he took me under his wing and become my mentor much to my parents delight. My college years were all about basketball with the guys, banging numerous girls, partying with my frat brothers, and a lot more girls. I lived the college dream until my senior year. That was when everything went to shit. When the life I knew, the life I had planned, fell apart around me because of one fucked-up life changing mistake, a mistake that has haunted me ever since.
That was the moment I changed. Studying became my life; I shied away from my usual crowd, and I stopped partying, which was unheard of for a guy who held my stature. My parents and Josh were in a constant state of worry, while I pretended as if life was moving on perfectly well. Thankfully it was during this time that Roger Anderson saw my quick demise and swooped in. I was not sure if it was Mom and Dad who influenced his decision, but I would be forever thankful for his intrusion into my life at my time of need. His brutal honesty put me on the right track, and it was within a couple of weeks that I started working at his company.
I sure as hell didn’t get my job handed to me on a gold platter. If anything, he made me work twice as hard to get where I was. Now after six and a half years under his watchful eye, I led the marketing team at
Bangs and Beats
. I had a high paying job which provided me with a very comfortable life; I had invested my money wisely when I first started working, and now I was the owner of the building that Josh and I lived in, all at the age of twenty-six.
“So tell me big brother, how long has it been since you’ve been between some sweet thighs?”
The amusement in Josh’s tone wasn’t lost in his question. I rolled my eyes at his taunt and nodded when he held up a Corona he’d just pulled out of my refrigerator and I took a seat at the breakfast bar.
He moved around the sparkling white space with chrome appliances and midnight black accessories like the arrogant prick he was because he knew exactly how long it had been.
After grabbing a fresh lime from the fruit bowl, he sliced it up and shoved a piece down the neck of the Corona.
When I finally met his gaze, he looked at me expectedly as I snatched the beer from his hands.
“It’s been too fucking long.” I growled in response before taking a long swig of beer.
Why the fuck did we need to talk about this? Straightaway, my head and my dick started reacting to the thought of the last woman I’d been with. The feisty and leggy Samantha, a British model who had been hired to be the cover model for last month’s issue of the magazine. My best friend Ashlyn, the magazine’s assistant stylist, had forced me into attending the cover reveal party and after one too many free celebratory beers, I was balls deep in Britain in the supply closet of one of the ritziest cocktail bars in New York City, fucking like my life depended on it.