Falling In (37 page)

“Jake.” I pant out, barely able to get the word out as I feel the familiar coil beginning deep in my belly. He must hear it in my voice, the desperation for another release, because he goes double-time on my nipples, moaning in pleasure against them as my breathing escalates. I squirm beneath him, becoming impatient, needing to feel that relief once again. He releases the breast that his hand was kneading and finally brings his fingers down to my wanting pussy. All it takes is a little bit of pressure and a few swirls on my clit before I am free falling into orgasm-ville.

Holy eff. This man has skills.

I watch him put his fingers in his mouth, sucking off my arousal like an effing lollipop.

“God damn, Evangeline. When you come, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever seen,” he says bringing his mouth back to mine.

“Then make me come again. But this time, use this.” I say coyly, wrapping my petite hand around his cock. He hisses then groans as I begin to move my hand up and down his long and thick shaft. I open my legs even further than they were before, giving him ample room for entrance as I guide him to my folds. He hovers over my body, propped up onto his elbows and looks down at me, not saying a word. Not needing to. His face is the picture of desire. His expressive eyes tell me everything I need to know.

He wants me.

He can’t believe he has me.

He loves me.

“I love you, too.” I say on a loud moan as he enters me.
Finally
. We groan in unison as he forges his way completely inside. I have never felt so full and complete than in this moment.

“Oh fuck, pixie, I love you so fucking much.” He grates out, claiming my lips while slowly, meticulously, rhythmically moving his hips in and out.

I match his movement, raising my hips to meet his thrust for thrust, swivel for swivel, needing him to be as deep inside me as humanly possible. My hands roam over his bulging muscles, raking my fingers down his back as I travel down to his flexing ass, squeezing his cheeks, and pushing him even further into me. Sweat drips off his forehead, landing on my parched lips. I allow my tongue to travel around my mouth, tasting the salty liquid as I feel my own sweat run down the crevice of my breasts. The boisterous sounds of our bodies colliding together fills the room, creating a sexy as hell soundtrack for our first time together. I am feeling so many sensations, all at once; my nerves are on end, sending tingles down my extremities. My head is swimming in a sea of lust and indulgence, and yet I still need to feel
more
of him.

I look into those beautiful green eyes that are staring down at me as we continue to move together. They’re so alive and full of fire and heat. But behind them, I see the love and joy that he is also feeling. The satisfaction, the relief that I am here with him, underneath him. That I
chose
him.

I can also see that he is straining quite hard to not come yet. I pull his head toward mine, kissing his salty lips, spoiling myself with his mouth. And as much as I want this moment to linger, I know we will have many more to come. So I let go.

“Come with me, Jake.” I whisper on his mouth, just before the first wave of my orgasm hits. At my words, I feel Jake surrender. His hips grind forward into me one last time before stilling. His whole body goes rigid while he grunts out my name, along with a few expletives. I hold onto his shoulders so tightly, my arms begin to ache as my body spasms with him while finding my own release. We both exhale in exhaustion and elation. Jake props back up onto his elbows, his cock still inside me, looking down with a crooked and very content smile.

“Fuck me, pixie. That was—there are no words for how fucking amazing that was.” He says, shaking his head. I smile my own stupid, silly smile back at him.

“I know. When can we do it again?” I reply with a cheeky grin. Taking me by surprise, he flips over onto his back, taking me with him, so that now I’m on top. Then he sits up, coming face to face with me. He brushes my damp, uncontrollable curls off my shoulders and shakes his head in fake exasperation.

“I knew you’d be the death of me, woman. But I’d die a million deaths just to have that one moment with you.” He says, kissing my sweaty forehead.

“There are many more of those to come.”

“Promise?” he asks seriously.

“Promise.”

His returning smile is so hugely adorable and reeks of pure happiness, it makes me giggle in my own goofy delight. I am baffled at how I have gone so long without this man in my life. I never want to again.
I won’t
. And as complicated and fucked up as this whole thing started, the ending is perfect. It’s
right
. I have no regrets. I will not look back. Only forward. With him.
Only him
.

“Now you were saying something earlier about wanting to be fucked?” he asks, eyebrows rising up and down with promise as I feel him growing hard again inside me.

Yes
.

Definitely
only
him.

Falling Out

Chapter One

Cole

How the fuck did I get here?

It’s only noon, and I’m about to down my third shot of Jack. I’ve never been much of a drinker, having seen firsthand what it can do to a person. The monster it can create. How it can pull you under and make you do things you never thought you would do. It can destroy a man.

But after the fucking morning I had, I could use a little self-destruction.

Like I promised her, I drove back to Portland with the kids, even though I was dreading going back to that house. Which pisses me the hell off, because I used to love that house. It was our first house.
Our
house. But now, now it makes my fucking my skin crawl. Makes me want to burn it to the ground, because when I’m near it, all I can see, all I can
feel
is betrayal.
Her fucking betrayal
. But like the sad excuse for a man that I am, I kept my word. And because of it, I flag down the bartender—who’s been giving me
fuck me
eyes—and order a fourth shot. 

I wasn’t ready to see her. I don’t know when, or if I ever will be. I feel like she fucking ripped my heart out, and then hid it somewhere impossible to find. Buried it in some secret place. It’s no longer hers, but it isn’t mine anymore, either. It’s just fucking gone, and I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. But even if I did, there’s no chance in hell I would give it away again. Or even know what the fuck to do with it.

I close my eyes and tip the drink back, letting the amber liquid travel slowly down my throat, relishing in the burn. And then I see her face. I don’t think I will ever get it out of my head. She looked so fucking happy today. I know she tried to mask it, but she’s always sucked at hiding her emotions. Her face is an open book. And this morning, I read what I never wanted to read.

While I was trying to talk myself into getting out of the damn truck, I sat and watched the kids run to the porch and bound into her arms. They love her like crazy. I can’t blame them. She’s a great mom—I’ll give her that. After she thoroughly hugged them, she whispered something in their ears and they ran into the house, no doubt happy as fuck.

Once she took her eyes off them, she turned her gaze to the truck. I was thanking the man upstairs that I got the windshield tinted last year so she couldn’t see my pussy ass in that moment. With a deep breath, I finally opened the door, my feet hitting the pavement and instantly regretting what was about to happen. I wasn’t ready for her presence.

I couldn’t look at her yet. I kept my eyes trained on my boots, watching them slowly move across the driveway and up the porch stairs we painted as a family last summer. A light turquoise. Her favorite color.
Fuckin’ A
.

“
Cole
.” She whispers breathlessly.

I will never get over that sound. Can never unhear it. My name in her sing-songy voice, on those pink pouty lips I will never touch again. My eyes instinctively reach hers, never, ever being able to ignore the voice that will most likely haunt my dreams from now on.
I’m a weak fuck.

Her face. No,
now
that
will haunt my dreams. She looked beautiful. I mean, she always looks beautiful, but today—today was different. She was glowing. This blinding joy was radiating off of her. I’ve only seen her look like this a handful times. While she was pregnant, right after she had the twins, and after a few times I blew her mind in bed. But even then, she never looked this damn happy.

Which just pissed me off even more.

He
made her look like that. And I’m guessing that fucking her played a huge part in it. Which made me want to punch anything and everything in and out of sight, starting with the asshole next door, who I’m sure is either in my fucking house, or watching us from his.

“
I can’t do this
.” Without any thought, those were the only words that came spewing out of my mouth. I tried. I tried to man up. To face her. But all I could do was get the fuck out of there as fast I could. I can still see her stunned face, disbelief written all over it. I can hear her say my name over and over as I left her there alone for the third time this week. I didn’t even get any clothes. Didn’t say goodbye to the kids. I didn’t do a fucking thing.

I just ran.

Yeah, I’ll say it again—I’m a weak fuck. An asshole. A coward.

Which brings me to this moment. Sitting in this shit-hole bar, drowning my pathetic sorrows with shots of whiskey. At the rate I’m going, I should’ve just bought a whole damn bottle at the corner liquor store.

I take in my surroundings, quickly becoming even more depressed than I already was. There are a few old drunks sitting at a table to the left of me, most likely regulars, looking haggard as all hell. A woman nearing fifty at the very least, dressed like a twenty-year old porn star, is deciding which song to play next on the beat up jukebox. And then there’s the bartender. Surprisingly, she isn’t that bad looking. She’s actually kind of hot in an I-can-kick-your-ass kind of way. She has more tattoos than I can count, which really was never my thing. But, to be honest, I don’t really have a thing. The only woman that ever really got me going was Evie. I wince at the thought of her name, needing to rub the skin over my heart, feeling the sting of betrayal. Of loss.

“You okay over there?” a woman asks, sounding genuinely worried. I open my eyes to find the bartender staring at me with concern. She’s pulling her lip ring into her mouth, and my eyes instantly zone in on her cherry-stained lips. She smiles coyly. I down the shot that I didn’t know was in front of me ‘til now.

“Does it look like I’m fucking okay?” I ask her like a dickhead, motioning my hand down the lined up shot glasses like I’m on the fucking
Price is Right
.
Damn, I’ve been saying ‘fuck’ a lot.
I’m turning into
that
guy. But at this point, I don’t give a fuck.

“No. It looks like you’re either an alcoholic, or just having a really shitty day.”

“The latter. Although, becoming an alcoholic sounds like a solid plan right now.”

“That bad?” she asks, sliding another shot toward me.

“That fucking bad.” I say before throwing said shot back. I eye her closely as she purses her lips, plants her elbows on the bar top and leans in toward me. She stares directly into my eyes and I know, right then, exactly what she’s thinking. What she wants.

“I was thinking about taking a break in a few. If you want, I’m sure we can figure out a way to make your day a little less shitty.”

And there it is.

Can I really do it? Take her in the bathroom, or wherever the hell she wants to go, and fuck her?
I know that’s what she wants. But I’ve only slept with one woman in my increasingly pathetic life.

And now she’s fucking the neighbor, for fuck’s sake.

The bartender is staring at me again with that damn lip pulled behind her teeth. Waiting for my answer. I quickly and not at all stealthily let my eyes travel down her body—or at least what I can see from behind the bar. As I’m doing so, I can see her breathing pick up. I linger on her generous-sized tits that look damn enticing in the tiny, short top she’s wearing. When my eyes meet hers again, all I see is a penetrating want reflecting in them.

Well damn, it would be rude of me to deny what the fine lady wants, right?
I’ve always prided myself on being quite the gentlemen. Besides, it’s not like I have someone waiting for me at home.
Shit, I don’t even have a home
.

I have nothing.

Can I really fuck another woman?

Hell to the fucking yes I can.

And I did. Against the dingy, graffiti-covered stall of the men’s bathroom. But not before she offered me some coke, of which I readily snorted off her bare tits. I didn’t want to be rude.

Always the fucking gentlemen.

Here’s to falling out of love.

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I want to thank you for reading my very first book! I have spent my entire life being a book addict. I was that girl in middle and high school who made a Must Read List for the summer and spent hours cooped up in my room immersing myself into different worlds. I have always wanted to be a writer. Have always had a vivid imagination. My mind has been chock full of ideas for as long as I could remember. But I never truly believed I could do it. Write an actual book. Ten years ago, maybe. But after spending nine years being a stay at home mom to now FOUR boys, that once creative mind began to dwindle a little bit. Until one night a year and a half ago.

Falling In started out as some random life-like dream I had one night. It was as if I was watching a movie play out in my subconscious. It wasn’t about me or my husband but about these unknown and flawed characters who were pleading to be explored. Once I woke up, I grabbed a notebook and pen (I’m old school like that) and just started writing random scenes and conversations until it became something. Although, I wasn’t quite sure what. Initially, I was just going to turn this idea into a novella, again not believing I could write a full novel. But once I starting writing, everything just flowed, poured out of my fingers onto the screen.

It was like the floodgates of creativity were opening up because once I started writing this book, other possible book ideas kept coming to me. As of now, I have eight other novels in the beginning stages, including two more in the Falling In series. Falling Out, Cole’s story. And Falling Over, Ben and Cady’s story, set 10 years after Falling In.

I have loved every moment being a stay at home mom. My boys are my world. But I am so effing excited to start this new chapter in my life. And I am beyond proud of myself no matter what becomes of this book. Not everyone can say they wrote a book. But I can.

Of course I couldn’t have done it if not for my immense amount of support from my friends and family.

To my husband, my best friend, my baby daddy,
my solace
, David.  You believed in me from the beginning. Read over my shoulder, pleasantly surprised at my words. Took care of our boys while I had to finish just one more line, paragraph, or chapter. You researched everything about self-publishing and helped me create my cover because I am absolutely clueless when it comes to technology and you, my love, are a nerdy, sexy as hell badass! You are the best decision I have ever made. You own my heart and I never want it back. It’s for keeps and I’m not returning yours either. I love you, homie.

To my boys, I love you crazies so stinking much. Thank you for being so patient with mommy and for practically jumping for joy when I told you I was writing a book. And then promptly asking me afterward if we can go to LEGOLAND if I make a bunch of money. I promise I will take you to LEGOLAND! A special shout-out to my toddler monster, Harrison, thank you for napping almost every day! There is no way I would have finished when I did had you not been an excellent napper!

To the rest of my family and friends. Whether it was through Facebook, texting or phone calls, you have all been there for me every step of the way. You’ve all been so damn supportive, asking questions, sharing, and never shy to show some love for this crazy new venture. I was terrified to tell people I was doing this but all of you made it so worth it! Of course there are a select few who have been my varsity cheerleaders throughout this process. My mom, Nicole Kearns and my brothers Ryan and Mikel Layson. I love you three so very much. Holly Merrick, Diana House, Alisha Davis Mitchell, Alix Lewis-Welch, Lillian Rogers, and Andrea Weber. All of you beautiful and amazing women have championed me throughout the last year and a half. I will be forever grateful.

And last, but certainly not least, to my editor, Kyla Stein. I effing adore you. You were so wonderful to work with. So understanding and helpful. Plus you’re just badass at what you do. You not only fixed the millions of mistakes I made but you enhanced my book, elevated it. You’re my literary Wonder Woman. I trust you with my words and I can’t wait to hand over all of my book babies to you.

To my new readers, I hope you enjoyed this book. From the beginning I swore up and down that Evie would choose Cole in the end. But as I started writing, I just fell in love with Jake and their connection. I think I was more than midway through when I decided that poor Cole wouldn’t get the girl. But I couldn’t be more happy and excited about it. We’ll be going dark for Falling Out. After losing Evie, our Cole will fall into a deep hole of depression and self-destruction. But his beautiful yet timid neighbor Angeleigh just might be able to pull him out, if she can get past her own darkness. 

Thank you again for taking a chance on this first time writer! Feel free to like and follow me on Facebook.
https://www.facebook.com/indieauthorandreahopkins