The Arrangement Anthology (84 page)
Read The Arrangement Anthology Online
Authors: H. M. Ward
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #New Adult, #Adult, #Anthologies, #New Adult & College, #Collections & Anthologies, #new adult romance
BROKEN PROMISES
A Trystan Scott Novel
Read more about the characters in this book:
BRYAN FERRO
*****
SEAN FERRO
******
PETER FERRO GRANZ
~
DAMAGED
~
******
JONATHAN FERRO
~
STRIPPED
~
****
**
TRYSTAN SCOTT
~
COLLIDE
~
H.M. WARD
THE SECRET LIFE OF
TRYSTAN SCOTT
And more.
To see a full book list, please visit:
www.SexyAwesomeBooks.com/books.htm
H.M WARD’S NEXT STEAMY BOOK?
Let her know by leaving stars and telling her what you liked about
THE
ARRANGEMENT VOL. 12
in
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The Arrangement
Vol. 13
H.M. Ward
Laree Bailey Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by H.M. Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.
H.M. WARD PRESS
First Edition: Jan 2014
Read more about the characters in this book: 122
CAN’T WAIT FOR H.M WARD’S NEXT STEAMY BOOK? 126
THE ARRANGEMENT
Vol. 13
~SEAN~
No matter what the glint means, it’s bad. My mind races through semi-coherent thoughts—images—of what Avery saw, but my mind is sluggish and lust ridden. She’s finally coming out of her shell, finally denying that mundane version of her sexual being. I have her naked body pressed firmly to the cold window. I can only imagine how hot she must look from the other side of the pane, but the fact that she even does it astounds me. I put her on display as if I own every inch of her, and she lets me. It’s almost as if she likes it, and I hope to God that she does.
The way her body fits against mine is perfect. I slip my palm over the swell of her hips and cup her breasts while kissing the side of her neck. There’s a spot that
makes her weak. When I find it, she gives in and does anything and everything. Sometimes I think she’s guarding that area, trying to keep me away. Other times, like now, I think she wants me there, kissing her senseless and doing anything I need.
Avery breathes in and pushes back against me, so I pin her harder. She gasps. The small sound always pulls my lips into a smile. I manage to undo my jeans and press my hard length to her back. That sound purrs from deep within her again. God, I love it when she does that. That little breath sounds like ecstasy, shock, and desire all wrapped into one tiny perfect noise.
I grab her hips, angling them so I can take her. I planned on waiting and teasing her more, but I can’t. Not when she’s like this. Avery presses back into me and tells me how much she wants me inside of her.
Her words undo me.
Pressing my hands firmly to the sides of her hips, I move until we line up perfectly and push into her. Avery gasps again and claws at the window. Arching her back, she presses her hips toward me, taking my cock in deeper.
She’s so fucking wet that I can’t think beyond the moment, which is rare. I’m always ten steps ahead of everyone. It’s part of who I am, but here—in this second—I’m lost. A lifetime of pain vanishes with every thrust into her hot, slick core. The past vanishes and I feel alive.
I tangle our fingers together and don’t want to stop. Pushing harder and deeper with every thrust, Avery takes me and begs for more. I didn’t think I’d have this chance.
For years I’ve walked around feeling nothing, to the point that I’d become a monster. I’m not some dipshit who can’t admit what he is—what he’s become. I know damn well that I’m a lost cause, that there’s nothing left to save, and yet, this woman brings me back to life. I was a
corpse, and completely apathetic, and now my heart is racing and my body is covered in sweat, shaking, because I can’t get enough of her.
I want more, she always makes me want more, and it’s not just her body—it’s her—it’s Avery. There’s something about the quirky smile on her sinful lips and the way she speaks. It’s the flash of her eyes when she sees something commonplace and finds joy in it. The woman is bursting with life, even though when I met her, I wasn’t sure she wanted to be.
The darkness within her called to me. It’s been my destruction and my savior, because it brought me to this woman and kept me coming back for more.
Every inch of my body is tense and I can’t stand it anymore. I need to hear her lose it, and call out my name. Dropping my hands to her hips, I pummel into her harder and faster until she melts into me. At least that’s my plan.
I want Avery to forget all the shit that’s bothering her, I want those nightmares to abate for just one night, and I want to be the reason.
I hope to God she needs me as much as I need her. Avery’s become my air, sunlight, and darkness—everything I need. Life without her would be unimaginable.
That’s when Avery mentions the light—the glint in the darkness. Before I have a chance to sate her, I pull us to the floor. I’m not sure if paparazzi found us or if it’s something worse because I didn’t see it. Either way, I’m not chancing it.
A second later, there’s a loud cracking noise, followed by the window blowing to bits. Glass fragments blast past us. I try to cover Avery, but I can’t look up to see how much of her skin is exposed. My jeans save my legs from the shards, but not my arms and back. A searing, hot pain shoots through my shoulder and down my arm.
Avery shakes beneath me, as her nails bite into my shoulders. I know she’s trying
to wrap her arms around me, but I pin her to the floor, not allowing her to move.
The moment lasts forever, giving enough time for ancient worries to reseed themselves in my mind. They spring up like weeds and vine faster than I can uproot them and toss them into the fire.
That dreadful thought whispers in my mind,
What if you can’t protect her? What if she dies?
That’s what does it. No matter how hard I fight it, I’m pulled into the past, into that goddamn memory that I try so hard to forget. Images flash through my mind like a slideshow: Amanda’s limp hand and curled fingers, pale and cold with dark blood pooled under her snow-white skin. I stand there seeing myself from above as if trapped in a nightmare.
Then I’m there, sucked into the past, standing in the doorway to our old room, and the emotions come surging back. The insides of my body feel like they’re being
crushed. Amanda called me and begged for help, but I didn’t come.
This is my fault
.
~SEAN~
I stand there shaking from guilt, rage, and grief. I know my wife is gone, but I refuse to accept it. I race to her side and pick up her cold, stiff hand, and that’s when I notice the baby covered in blood, lifeless and silent. My daughter is so tiny and the way she lies silently by Amanda, with those tiny fingers and toes, kills me.
Jaw trembling, my throat tightens and I try to force the anguish back, but it’s consuming me. Piece by piece, I feel my mind slip away.
