Quake (11 page)

      I fall to my knees and hold my head in both of my hands.

      This must be it.

      These must be my final moments on this earth.

      I need more time with Janny, time to get married and start a family.

      I look at her one more time, focusing on her angelic face. Her beautiful cerulean eyes are the last thing I see before dark spots take over my vision—
Janny
—she’s my last thought when the blackness takes me.

To be continued...

More from the Author

Copyright 2016 by Jacob Chance

QUIVER – Releasing September 2016

This excerpt is unedited and subject to change.

Prologue

Janny

     
“Kyle, what’s wrong?”

        I place my hand on his arm and he opens his eyes. Staring at him intently, I watch as he slowly tries to respond. His lips move to answer my question, but no words leave his mouth.

      His eyes go wide with panic. His confusion and fear are obvious. In this moment I’m certain that something is horribly wrong.

      “Kyle, what’s happening?” My voice is laced with fear.

      He acts as though he doesn’t understand a word I’ve said. His mouth continues to open and close, but the words still show no sign of coming out. His stare connects with my frightened one, as he grips his head with both hands and falls hard to his knees on the sidewalk. I notice how quick and shallow each of his breaths are becoming. I rub his back to give him some comfort and pray to God the pain will soon subside.

      “Kyle, can you hear me?” I question, raising my voice.

      His eyes are squeezed shut and his teeth are clenched. I know he must be in excruciating pain, but I don’t know why.

      What the hell is wrong with him?

      His beautiful golden brown eyes open and lock on mine. He stares at me and smiles.

I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s going to be okay.

      When I open them, my moment of calm turns to chaos. Kyle is no longer smiling and I watch in horror as his eyes roll into the back of his head. Falling to the ground, his head hits the concrete with a sickening crack.

     
“Kyle. Nooooo.”
I drop to the ground and cry as I cradle his bloodied head in my lap.

Chapter One

Janny

Four Days Later

     
The constant hum of the fluorescent overhead lights in the room doesn’t even register anymore. The first twelve hours I spent sitting here, I thought the continuous beeping and the hiss of machines working to keep Kyle alive would drive me insane, but over the past four days, they’ve become a symphony of sounds that I no longer hear. I’ve taken comfort in knowing they’re helping him breathe, until he’s strong enough to do it on his own.

      Life within these four walls has become my new norm. I eat here, sleep here and even shower here. I’m afraid to leave his side, worrying that in a single moment he could take a turn for the worse. It’s crazy how quickly you can adjust to circumstances you never thought you’d be dealing with, but life has a way of throwing us those curveballs we never see coming, until it’s too late.

    
Why didn’t he tell me about the bullet fragment?

      I’ve asked myself this question so many times and I’m still no closer to finding a reason. I can think about it all I want, but the truth is he didn’t feel like he could confide in me. That’s a bitter pill for me to swallow because I gave him everything. He had access to all the parts of my heart, even the ones I had closed off after losing David and my parents. I opened myself up to him and trusted him implicitly. I wish he would have done the same.

      I start to nod off, my head cocked at an odd angle in the recliner beside his bed when there’s a knock on the door. I sit upright and smooth my hand over the top of my hair. I’m sure I look like a disaster in my two day old clothes, and my dirty, unbrushed hair.

      “Hello Janny.” Dr. Stevens says, as he enters the room with a kind smile on his slightly wrinkled middle aged face.

      “Hi Dr. Stevens. I hope you have good news for me.” I study his expression for a clue about what kind of news he might be delivering. He has a great poker face and I can’t get a feel for his mood. I guess it goes with the territory of being a neurosurgeon.

      “I do have good news for you,” he beams. “We’re going to start to wean him off the meds that are keeping him in a medically induced coma. His brain has had enough time to heal from the surgery and his vital signs are strong.”

      I smile and glance at Kyle in his peaceful medicated state and for the first time since he collapsed on the sidewalk in front of Decadence, I allow myself to feel hopeful that he can pull through this.

      “I want to make sure you’re prepared for him to have some paralysis, motor function issues and his speech may be affected. We know that when he collapsed he was having a stroke and there will be some after effects from that.” He stops talking to type on his tablet for a moment. “We can’t predict how bad the damage is until he actually wakes up, but he could be looking at a long road to recovery.” He looks up at me, before once again hitting a few keys on the tablet. 

      “Will he need to go to rehab?” I question. I’ve been researching treatment for stroke victims and what their road to recovery looks like, but Kyle has also had major surgery on his brain. Dr. Stevens is the surgeon that performed the experimental procedure that saved Kyle’s life. He was able to successfully remove the bullet fragment and it will never be a concern again, but I can’t help worry that, this will impact any possibility of improvement.   

“Yes, he’ll most likely need to go to rehab. In many cases with stroke victims, they can be there for five or six months. He’s young and strong so I’m expecting him to need less time.”

      When Dr. Steven’s leaves all the anxiety I have returns. The only time I allow myself to indulge my worry is when I’m alone with Kyle. I never express my concerns verbally, I just sit here holding his hand, wondering how this will all work out.

      I’ve been burying all my doubts about Kyle’s recovery behind a false sense of optimism. We just found each other and now I’m so scared that I’m going to lose him. Our life together just started and it’s frightening to think that the five months we’ve had could be the entirety of our story. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him--to say goodbye to us. I need more time with him.

      God, give us more time.

LIKE A BOSS

LOGAN CHANCE

Chapter One

Excerpt

*Unedited and may be subject to change*

Copyrigh
t
© 2016 Held by Logan Chance

Fuck, I need to get laid.
If I didn’t find a woman in this bar to fuck tonight, I would lose my mind. I’d been overworked and stressed beyond belief I hadn’t had time to focus on the finer things in life. I’d almost forgotten what the inside of a pussy felt like. Lately, I felt this champion cock I owned between my legs was for nothing but show.

Two words:

Fuck.

That.

Nectar was packed when I stepped inside; pink and purple neon lights blinded my eyes as they swept the room. Women in leopard-print leotards hung from giant swings as the loud bass shook the floor beneath my feet. I found Xavier, my friend, at the bar with a shot of Macallan he handed to me.

With my drink in hand, I ‘surveyed the land’ as it were. A curvy brunette, wearing painted on jeans with red heels, smiled at me. She took a small sip of her Cosmo and the lipstick stain left behind on the glass matched her sexy shoes. She was pretty. She was absolutely fuckable. Let’s be honest, most men aren’t even that damn picky, but tonight I craved above average. It’s why I picked Nectar—the hottest place to be on a Friday night—but while sexy, curvaceous asses and pumped up plastic tits painted the room like a surgeon’s personal advertisement billboard—I wanted something closer to the liquor in my hand. I wanted a girl fresh out of the damn bottle, warm in my mouth, burning on the way down, and fucking me up until I couldn’t see straight. I wanted the good shit.

A raven-haired beauty, in a skimpy dress leaving nothing to the imagination, and fuck me stilettos, locked eyes with me. The hot pink-stained cheeky smile she flashed my way did nothing for me—total stage five clinger potential.
Pass.

I nodded, and continued studying the club.

My eyes drifted to a group of girls celebrating across the bar—a bachelorette party. Penis straws in their mouths, pink boas around their necks, and falling off the barstools drunk.
Double Pass.

“It’s getting late. I might head out,” Xavier, said, glancing at his gold Rolex. He grabbed his Corona by the neck and took a long pull.

“It’s South Beach, this city doesn’t come alive until well after midnight.”

“There’s just not much action here tonight. But, you stay, relax, you deserve it.” His eyes drifted to the crowded dance floor. “The sale is a shoo-in, you’ll be the proud owner of the Bearded Goat within weeks.”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, it’s been stressful as fuck these past few days.” I lifted my glass and took a sip, letting the liquor ease the tension in my shoulders.

He laughed, chugging his beer, and spun in his seat to slam the empty bottle on the bar.

“I think I got the brunt of your stress.” Xavier—also my lawyer, top of his class at Yale--had been busy working his ass off for me. He scoured over paperwork and legal documents making sure I was getting the best deal possible.

“Fuck you, buddy. It’s my ass on the line here. First thing I’m doing with the bar is changing the fucking name.” I threw some cash to the bartender and returned my attention back to him. “Bearded Goat, really? Why not just call it the lamest bar in Miami.”

“Think about it, one day you can have a place just like this.” He lifted his arms, pointing to the bright lights of Nectar that showcased the energy of the nightclub.

I grinned, turning to rest my elbows against the bar. “I’m sure my place will be a hell of a lot better.” My eyes traveled around as I scoped the joint once more. Yeah, my club would be much nicer. I could see it all now. I would soon own South Beach. How hard could running a bar be? I’d never failed at anything I’d gone after before, and this time wouldn’t be any fucking different.

“On second thought,” Xavier said, eyes trained on the party of pink madness a few yards away,

“I’m going to join the action over there.” I nodded, and watched him stalk over to make his play on one of the bachelorettes from the party. She offered him a drink from her penis straw and laughed when he grabbed it and directed it back to her mouth, shaking his head. I chuckled to myself—what an idiot.

“Hi...what’s your name?” a drunk plastic blonde asked, as she slid onto the stool next to me, arms hanging around my neck. Her platinum hair hung straight and fell just past her tits. She leaned in closer, giving me a glimpse straight down her plum-colored, v-neck dress to her manufactured cleavage.

“Theo.” I threw back my whiskey, and signaled the bartender for another before turning to face her.

Her ass left the seat and she stepped between my long legs, her fingers running up the length of my red tie. “I’m Ashley.” Her breathy words fanned across my lips as she lifted her hand to run it through my beard. “I’ve never seen you around. Do you
come
here a lot?” she asked, her voice thick as honey, seduction dripping off her tongue.

My brown eyes focused on the gigantic rock on her finger before removing her hand from my face. “No.” I’d been coming here for the past week for one reason, to check out the competition for my newest acquisition, but tonight I needed release and this girl wasn’t the one.

I stood, giving her a tight smile, before making my way to the other end of the neon lit bar.

I squeezed my tall frame to an empty stool and signaled the bartender. “Whiskey,” I called out to her.

She glanced my way, locking eyes with mine. A brief nod and a slight smile was all she gave me before she turned and slammed a few bottles back in the well. The sexy bartender finally slid her ass over and my eyes narrowed on her as she poured the fucking whiskey in a glass. Her shimmery hair clearly wasn't hers. The wig on her head matched her silver bikini top, which barely contained her full breasts. The skinny strings strained, as if at any moment they would snap, letting her tits fall free. A silver short skirt hugged the curve of her ass as she turned to pour a few shots for the bride-to-be.

The few times I’d been here, I’d never seen this girl. I’d remember a face like hers, even in the dark. My eyes scanned her flawless features. She wasn’t hard and overworked like some of these girls. She hadn’t allowed a scalpel to redraw the map of who she was designed to be. And she sure as shit wasn’t shy about showing it off. My dick stiffened. That hunger to claim and guzzle down The Good Shit surged. And I’m not talking about fucking Whiskey, either. I wanted her.

Nights like these were sort of like the Sabbath to me—a holy day to worship my most favorite idol—a woman’s sweet body. This woman with silver hair and spilling breasts was in need of worship and I had every intention of fucking her like the goddess she was. I’d spent many nights doing just that, but.

First…I had to get her attention.

Again.

After a few minutes, I decided to use the secret super power I owned. It would require the use of a couple of ladies with penis straws in their mouths. When she finally returned to me to ask if I wanted another, I leaned in, talking close to her ear over the loud music.

My scruffy cheek whispered across her smooth skin. “As a father, I have to beg you to please cut those girls off.” I nodded in the direction of the bachelorette party. Her eyes flitted to them and then back to me. “If it were my little Lucy, I’d be devastated to know they’d be driving home like that.” Daddy role had never failed me. It didn’t even turn me into a liar, because I was one.

“Relax,” she shot back. “They have a limo waiting in the lot.
Daddy Dearest.”

I smiled at her and leaned back in. “Just so you know, you’re the hottest girl in this whole fucking place.”

“Just so
you
know,” she said, touching my shoulder this time, “you’re the millionth guy who has said that tonight.”

I pulled back, palms splayed on the bar as I met her eyes. “But there’s a difference—you want to know what it is?”

She shrugged, causing her tits to squeeze together. I grabbed my empty glass and held it up to her, leaning in close again, not breaking eye contact. “I’m the only fucker in here who will say
please.”

***

“Fuck,” I groaned, breaking from the lips of the silver goddess. Tongues twisting, mouths sucking, her sexy moans were pulling me under. “You want to do this here?”

With a strong grip around her waist, I pulled her even closer, grinding my cock against her.

“You have to live a little first,” she said as she pushed away and ran toward the shoreline.

The waves crashed as I strolled along with my hands in my pockets, fascinated by her.

Her silver wig and long legs held the moon’s glow as she laughed. Her toes dipped into the salty ocean and as I watched--my arousal deepened.

I took a long breath as I saw her— truly saw her beauty—dance in the moonlight. Fucking hot, the way her ass shook, the way she grooved to a rhythm playing along in her mind. I wanted to hear it too.

I’d been overworked for so long, and she made me feel like I’d been set free.

She shimmied over, her arms landing around my neck as I gazed into her glitter-shadowed eyes. “Dance with me.”

We swayed and rocked into one another as I caressed the dip of her spine with one hand. “Your name, what is it?”

“Penelope.”

Penelope. It rolled along my tongue as I said it aloud.

“Are you going to tell me yours or do I have to guess?”

“Take your best shot,” I egged her on.

She placed a finger to her suckable lips, gazing skyward before returning her copper eyes to mine. “I don’t know. Maybe Frank. You look like a Frank.”

I cocked a brow. “Do I? No, not Frank. Name’s Theo.”

“Ah...Theo...I see now.”

I raised a brow. “See what?”

“Your name...I see how you managed to get me out here. You had God on your side.” She laughed, moving closer. “Theo means God given.” Her eyes met mine with intensity. “Feeling like a saint or a sinner tonight, Theo?”

“Oh, definitely a fucking sinner tonight.” I grabbed her. “And worshipping. Namely, you.”

Where can I fuck this girl, already? The beach—too sandy. The ocean—too wet.

A lifeguard station sat off in the distance and I was already pulling Penelope in that direction.

“Get your sexy ass up there.” I grabbed a handful as she stepped her first foot in the rung of the ladder.

“Race you to the top,” she said, laughing as she glanced down to me.

Damn, this sexy temptress was teasing me. A snap decision had me running toward another staircase off to the left.

I’d get to the top before her if my life depended on it.

A sexy smirk, fingers playing with the strands of her shimmery top, and a wicked gleam in her eyes awaited me when I reached the large deck.

“Damn, you’re quick,” I breathed out fast.

“Not quick at everything.” The way she batted her fake eyelashes made my heart beat faster.

“Yeah, I like to take things nice and slow, too.” I grabbed the handrails, leaning over slightly as I gradually made my way to her.

“Just the way I like it,” she paused as I stalked even closer. “Well, sometimes.” She winked as I reached her. My hands moved to the sides of her face, drawing her in, my lips capturing hers once again.

The feel of her tongue tracing along mine had my cock springing to life. Her sexy curves pressed against me as I guided her back towards the lifeguard chair.

A soft summer breeze, a light touch of air, a slight shiver of Penelope’s body had me holding on tighter.

Breaking the kiss, I glanced over her, memorizing the way she sparkled with the backdrop of the ocean behind her.

“You’re stunning,” I whispered across her glittery skin.

She blushed, even with the heavy makeup, before she ran her hand along the front of my pants gripping my hardness underneath.

“Yeah, stroke my cock,” I growled against her silver wig, rocking my hips into her hand. Her mouth sucked my neck as my fingers worked the ties of her bikini top, freeing her tits for me to see.

Edging her closer to the seat, I ran my hand over her heightened nipple--squeezing, tugging, and then sucking it with my hungry mouth. She whimpered, running her fingers through my hair, pulling it roughly.