Blast From the Past (8 page)

He gave her a sly smile. “Never say never, honey. It’s one of the lessons I needed to learn. And trust me, I have.”

Amy let herself drift into her Dad’s arms, reveling in the warmth of his embrace, and when the perfume of musk and deodorant filled her nostrils, she knew she was finally home again, and she let go, releasing all the pent-up rage and resentment. “Daddy,” she murmured. “I love you.”

When no answer came, she opened her eyes, only to find herself surrounded by a darkness black as pitch—and she was falling into the abyss, too fast to scream.

She heaved a resigned sigh, and allowed the blackness to swallow her up…

Where do we go from here? The words echoed in Amy’s mind as the spinning finally stopped and she became aware of her surroundings once again. Opening her eyes gingerly, she blinked against the harsh light that assaulted her retina.

“Looks fine,” a voice spoke, and she stupidly found herself gazing into the bearded face of a man dressed in white, shining a light into her eyes. A doctor. He smiled. “I see you’re back with us, Amy. How are you feeling?”

She blinked a couple of times, wondering the same thing herself. How
was
she feeling? Confused. Relieved. Sad. Glad. And dozens of emotions jostling beneath the surface, fighting for prevalence.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted, and was surprised at the weakness of her own voice.

“Just take it easy,” the medical man advised. “You’ve been through an awful lot. What you need now more than anything is rest.” He eyed her sternly. “No more parties, all right? And we’re keeping you overnight for observation. Just to make sure you don’t wander off into the dark again.”

She nodded sheepishly. She’d suffered a good hit to the head, she now remembered. That car… She searched around for a familiar face and when she encountered none, she asked with shaky voice, “Where’s Brad? Wasn’t he with me when I was brought in?”

“He was,” said the doctor with raised eyebrows, “and I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.” He looked up as someone entered the room. “And there he is. Right on time. Young man,” he addressed the new arrival, “you’re not to engage the patient. She’s been through a serious episode and needs to rest.”

Brad held up his hands. “I’ll let her rest, doc. In fact I just want to sit by her side and watch her sleep if that’s all right with you.”

The physician murmured his assent and left the room. Amy’s heart made a little leap as Brad crossed to her bed and stood gazing down at her, worry lacing his voice when he spoke. “You passed out on me, Amy. Second time in two days.”

“I promise I won’t do it again,” she muttered, caught in his gaze. “When did you come back?”

“Day before yesterday. Don’t you remember? We spoke in church?”

She nodded, careful not to lift her head. “I do remember.”

A relieved sigh escaped his lips. “You do, huh? That’s great. For a moment there we all thought you were going to be eighteen for the rest of your life.”

“I’m not eighteen anymore, Brad.” She spoke seriously, willing him to pay attention to what she had to say. “And neither are you.” She reached out a hand and laid it atop his. Without hesitation, he laced his fingers through hers, the gesture stirring a memory she’d buried deep inside. “You told me you loved me. At the prom? Did you mean what you said?”

He inclined his head and moved closer to her, taking her hand up to his lips and pressing a tender kiss on the tips of her fingers. “I did. With all my heart.”

“What happened to us, Brad? Why did we lose all this time—ten years?”

“Life happened, I guess. And my stupidity,” he added with a wry smile.

She searched his face for any sign of the old Brad. She thought the wild boy was still in there, but had matured into the man she knew she loved—had never stopped loving, even while he was that idiot her mother liked to remind her of. “You have something of mine,” she murmured.

His eyebrows rose questioningly. “Oh? What’s that?”

She grinned up at him. “My heart.”

He regarded her seriously, an emotion she’d never associated with him before but which became him well, she thought. “I’d like to keep it, if that’s all right with you?”

“Only if I can have something of yours in return.”

He smiled, and something welled up in her chest, something tender and sweet. “I think you already have, honey. In fact you always did.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and she opened her lips to bid him entry, as she had opened her heart and her life for him before. “What happened yesterday?” she whispered.

He had the good decency to blush. “Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away.”

She slung her arms around his neck and pulled him in. “Could we… do it again?”

A slow smile crept up his lips as he tenderly brushed against her lips. “Sure,” he whispered. “Only I think we better wait until you’re home this time. Unless you want to visit your future husband in jail.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Future husband?”

“You don’t think that now I found you again I would ever let you go, did you?”

“I…” Her eyes widened when he suddenly went down on one knee beside the bed and offered her a small black box that had engagement ring written all over it. “Brad, you didn’t…”

Before she could complete the sentence, he’d opened the ring box and she found herself gazing at a sparkling band, her mind a blank. Then she transferred her astonished gaze to the deep brown eyes suspended over all that glitter, and when he spoke the eternal words, “Do you want to marry me?” she found herself saying yes before he’d even finished.

They’d lost ten years, she wasn’t about to lose a second more when that second could be spent with Brad by her side.

He kissed her deeply, then, and she opened her arms and her lips for the man she’d always loved. Daddy, she thought, you were right after all, and when she pulled her fiancé into the bed with her, she felt her father’s benevolence suffusing her. And his blessing.

All was well, she knew.

Finally, all was well.

“Come here, big boy,” she whispered. She’d finally been released from hospital with the promise she wouldn’t endanger her recovery as recklessly as she had before, and she’d signed the release papers with a happy heart.

Bill Tucker had been there, and her mother and Jackie, all of them happy to finally see her on her feet again, though Bill had insisted she keep to the wheelchair for now. She’d decided to humor the grumpy old sheriff, and hadn’t been deceived by her mother’s cries that she leave everything to her.

Bill had suddenly become a much bigger part of their lives, coming round more often, expressing his concern about Annie. Amy was reminded of her father’s words and had conveyed the message to her mother, who’d accepted it with a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Just you try and stop me, you little minx,” Brad growled as he stalked toward the bed, only dressed in his boxers and little more.

They’d finally made it to her bedroom, and her promise to him, expressed a decade earlier, was finally about to come true.

Jackie was downstairs, anxious to show her pictures of the new collection she was thinking about acquiring for The Crooked Bow, as was Bill, who’d come for a nibble of Mom’s pecan pie—and perhaps its owner as well—but she didn’t care.

This time was hers and Brad’s alone, and she didn’t care who knew.

“I have to warn you that I’m strictly off-limits for any hanky-panky,” she said hoarsely, as his liquid eyes stoked up the fire she was feeling inside. “Doctor’s orders.”

“To my recollection the doc didn’t say anything about hanky-panky.”

“No strenuous activity. His exact words.”

“Trust me, honey. What we’re about to do won’t be strenuous at all. Just mildly stimulating, perhaps.”

She groaned in disappointment and displayed a pout. “Only mildly? After ten years, that’s all you’ve got in store for me?”

He eyed her dangerously as he joined her on the bed. “Just lie back, patient girl, and let me take care of you.”

She giggled as he hovered over her, his fingers curling in her hair and his lips brushing hers. Heat flamed up inside her at his touch, and soon they were both naked, her nubile tits being sucked in hard, her nipples erect and twitching with delight at the treatment

She lay back, then, her arms stretched over her head, and decided to let him have his way with her. As his lips traced a path down to her belly, she sighed a shuddering breath as he gently spread her legs apart, pushing her knees down to the comforter bed before reaching her center.

“Good thing I shaved,” she said as he devoured her sex, his supple lips kissing her where no man had in a long time. “Don’t speak,” he murmured, then buried himself inside her delicate flower, his lips wet with the nectar flowing from her pussy. And when he eased his tongue inside, speech was wiped from her lips and all she could do was sigh in rapture.

Finally they made it this far. Ten years it had taken them to arrive at this place, and when he suckled at her tiny clit, it throbbed with life and exquisite pleasure, Her Royal Pinkness sending shoots of delicious joy through her lower body.

She enclosed him between her thighs, and when finally he entered her, his thick engorged cock sliding deeply between her wet cunt lips, she knew she was finally home.

“Brad,” she whispered, rolling his name around her tongue, and when he slipped all the way inside, pulsating against the slick walls of her vagina, flesh on flesh, she cried out, her body cresting over into a delicious climax.

She arched up against him as he bucked into her writhing furnace, and when their eyes met, she could see the hunger she felt reflected in his intense gaze. Her Brad… And then her pussy spasmed all around his thick shaft, and she felt the passion stir him to his own climax, and when the white hot seed of his body flowed into her, she welcomed it as the blessing of their union.

They lay together for a long time, neither wanting to break the connection, and when finally a shrill voice sounded from downstairs, calling out her name, they both had to laugh, feeling like two kids caught in the act.

“One day we have to get our own place,” he suggested as he nibbled her earlobe.

“One day soon,” she agreed.

And that that day would come, she didn’t doubt for a moment.

“Let’s go down before your mom comes up.”

“Let’s not,” she said, letting her hand slide down his ripped belly to his cock, wet with her juices. It twitched under her fingers, and before long was rising to the occasion once again. She fixed him with a sultry gaze. “Let’s fuck, Brad Fuller.”

He gave her a sly smile, heat already making his face flush, and allowed her to push him down onto the bed while she straddled him, then easily slipped his cock inside her once more.

“Amy! Are you coming?” Mom’s voice drifted up from downstairs.

Amy’s eyes fluttered closed as she let herself sink onto Brad’s towering girth and started rolling her hips back and forth, Brad’s hands firmly clasping her pert tits.

“Yes!” she cried. “Oh, God, yes! Yes! Yes! YESSSS!”

THE END

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Nic Saint is the pen name of husband and wife writing team Nicole and Nicolas Saint. The Saints have been writing together since 2007, initially focusing on cozy mystery books about cat sleuths and bumbling spies, later funny/scary books for kids and finally settling on what they like best: writing romance.

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Blast From The Past

Excerpt From:

RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE

CHAPTER ONE

The wind was sweeping across the deserted plain, and Joanna’s hair billowed and swirled around her oval face, her eyes closing against the nippiness in the air. She should have brought her cap, she knew, but had wanted to feel the forces of nature whipping at her unfettered frame.

These days, she didn’t mind the cold so much as the humidity. Strange, how the change in season could seep into your bones and chill you to the core. It seemed only yesterday that a summer’s breeze had wafted along the outstretched meadows surrounding the patch of forest that was her home, and then suddenly winter was upon the land and touched everything with its icy tendrils of frost.

She stared out across the vast space, blinking the tears from her eyes, and thought she’d never felt this pervading sadness as keenly as she did now. Ever since her husband had left, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that was not her own, she’d managed to cope. She was at the end of her rope now. Much further and it would all be over. All hope lost. A life, fleeting as a castle made of sand, would end, and no one would ever know. Or care.