In the Mix (43 page)

“Well, shit. I love me some puss ‘n boots. I guess I’ll shut-up, then.” I slid my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me.

I never mentioned my insecurities again. I didn’t have to. Kyle has made sure every day (especially since then) that I have no reason to feel insecure. I’m so glad. I can’t imagine life without our son now. He’s only a year old, but I swear he’s brilliant.

We were going to wait until Charley and Mitch got married but what with everything that happened. Oh . . . that’s right. Well, you’re going to have to wait for Ava to tell you. I know . . . I’m such a bitch. Hold on while I shrug—get over it. Anywho . . . they told us to go ahead. We got married in my parent’s back yard. It was a beautiful spring day—
best day of my life!

I’m going to tell you all something right now. When love shows up at your front door without any warning, don’t fucking run. Don’t act like you haven’t been waiting for that shit to come along. All you’re doing is hurting that person and yourself. I’ve learned so much—grown so much—since Kyle walked into my life. I thank God every day for him and for the ability to open up my heart again. It wasn’t easy. But anything worth the reward after the challenge shouldn’t be.

Susan said something to me that has stuck like glue. All of these things in our life, whether big or small, really are the ingredients in the mix that is unique to us. Think about all of the people who have come in and out your life. Even if it was a brief stop, it’s significant. Whether they teach you to trust or not to trust, they’re teaching you something. It really does mold you. The key is to know the difference between the good stuff and the bad, how to balance it in
your
mix.

I didn’t always balance it well, but I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it now. I’m happy and I’m really okay with that. That’s huge. I’m still a smartass. That’s . . . not a surprise. But, that’s me. That’s in my mix. Luckily, I have someone who loves
everything
that comes in my batter.

Eww . . . What?

Carry on . . . and for God’s sake . . . laugh.

Life is funny, lemons and all—laugh at it.

Love,

CiCi

I am blessed beyond reason. My three kids see me at my laptop and get so frustrated that I’m not doing anything “cool” that they can participate in. It’s even more frustrating when I’m on a deadline and shoo them out of the room, constantly. Grasping the concept that Mommy works from home, I’m sure, will not be happening anytime soon. Yet, they never stay frustrated, and somehow, still think that I hang the moon and the stars for them—thank God! They are and always will be my
greatest
accomplishment.

Next, I want to give a the hugest thanks to all of my readers whether you’ve been on this journey with me from book one or you just fell in love with my characters today. I’m now six books in and still completely blown away that there are people who not only love my books, but anticipate the release of the next one. It’s the most amazing feeling to work so hard at a dream that you believed in and watch it become a reality. You guys rock!

Thank you to my family and friends for your continued support. A special thanks to my Aunt Madelyn for helping me keep my kids at bay while I write. Also, your sarcastic reply of “Does Pinocchio have a wooden dick?” anytime I ask you a question that has an obvious answer came in handy for CiCi. So, congratulations on being a smartass! I love you. Another special thanks to my Aunt Emma, who loved Under Contract so much, she tried to get the goods out of me for the rest of the books. I did not cave, people! Lol. I love you, Aunt Em, and it’s pretty cool to see you so excited about my stories.

I can’t thank my street team (The G-Team) enough. You girls pimp me relentlessly. It’s awesome to see so many people believe in your work the way you girls do. You honestly keep me going. Deadline time is over and I’m so looking forward to hanging out with you girls in our room more . . . having completely inappropriate conversations! Lol.

CiCi had some fantastic beta readers!! A big round of applause to Nicola, Claire, Wendy S., Abby, Anna, and Wendy C. . You all did a fantastic job!

Thank you to Kari from Cover to Cover Design. You did a beautiful job on this cover!

Stacey Blake from Champagne Formats, I’m writing this before you even work your magic, but I know you are going to knock it out of the park!

A special thanks to Jess Huckins. She wasn’t able to work with me on this one for edits but still helped me out where she could. You still rock! :)

Rebecca Cartee, I can’t thank you enough for taking me on as a last minute client! I’m so happy you fell in love with my characters! You did a fab job editing and it was really great to work with you on this book!

Drum roll please . . .

I have had the most unbelievable support system this past year. These ladies flew in with flowing pink capes and saved the day for my first release. Since then, they have become the dearest friends to me. Wendy Shatwell and Claire Allmendinger, what is there left to say? I’d be lost without you ladies! I can’t wait to fly across the pond and give you the biggest (quite possibly the most awkward) hug I can give. I will then follow up with a crazy dance like The Carlton or something a little fancier that would require “jazz hands.”

And finally, I want to thank the many bloggers who have shown me support by promoting me in anyway, especially with reviews and spotlights. I truly appreciate all the time you put into supporting authors, especially us Indie ones!

I am a domestic engineer (born and raised in New Jersey) whose sole responsibility is guiding three young, impressionable kids into becoming phenomenal adults. This challenging yet rewarding work requires a lot of love (coffee), patience (wine), and determination (periodic exorcisms). I work all of this magic from the beautiful state of New Hampshire.

Before becoming a domestic goddess (not really), I spent over a decade working in the medical field, where I wore more hats than the queen.

I have loved the written word and the great escape it provides since I was a little girl. When I wasn't reading about people and the places they lived, I created my own characters and adventures.

Having found myself again, through my writing, with The Lost & Found Series, The One, and The GEG Series, has been nothing short of a dream come true. Also, it makes people feel better when I laugh randomly or talk to myself, knowing it's my characters and not "the voices" . . . that would be creepy.

In the Mix Spotify Playlist

Want to see what I’m up to? You can stalk me here at these spots!

Twitter: @JacquelynAyres

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Coming Soon!

Crossing the Line (#3 GEG Series)

*This is subject to change as far as order in the series*

~UNEDITED~

Chapter One

Phobias.

We all have them. However, most of us don’t walk that fine line between fear and just plain crazy.

I do.

Do you?

Fear has existed as long as man has

“No shit, assmunch!” I say almost under my breath, crossing out that last statement. Ugh! Why did I agree to write this article?!

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

I look up quickly.
Shit—it’s Wednesday!
It’s “Viking Day.” Did they have Vikings in Australia? If not then I think there’s been a mix up; his family must’ve immigrated there.

His name is Declan Pierce. And it was only an hour ago that he was piercing the ever-loving-hell out of my love tunnel with his giant Viking cock. One look and I swore he wasn’t going to fit, but he yanked my skirt up and pushed me down on my desk. His hand possessively, yet gently, grasped my neck. His fingers splaying the length of my jaw, holding me in place. He shushed me as his free hand found its way between my legs. I whimpered; I was so fucking wet for him and it put a cocky ass smile on his face. “It will fit. Let me show you how good it will fit, love,” he said while stretching my entrance with his thick, Viking-man fingers. Because I’m one who likes to see proof—I submitted. Ever get fucked so hard and good, you can’t keep your mouth from gaping open, or enable your throat to produce some sort of sound? That’s how he fucked me. Gaping-mouth fuck. And I
loved
it.

He commanded me to come—I came.

He released my neck and pulled out with a thunderous groan.
“On your knees, Ms. St. Claire!”
I obeyed and was rewarded with his throbbing, swollen cock, filling my mouth until it exploded, releasing another wondrous, epic groan from him. Afterwards, he sat in the plush chair, most of my clients seem to prefer, and helped me up onto his lap where he cradled me. His large hands caressed my body in nonchalant manner. It didn’t matter what kind of manner it was, he was touching me and that’s all I needed. Then, he started talking lowly in my ear, saying deliciously naughty things about my pussy. The first thing he said is a must. And I’m sure you will agree with me.

“Mmm . . . any idea how amazing it was to feel your tight, little pussy, pulsating around my cock?”

See that right there? That’s psyche 101 when it comes to sex talk. Men always want to hear about how big you think there cock is (in a positive light, of course). Well, women are no different! I don’t care if her vag lips are flapping in the wind and you can stick your hand up in there to give a “thumbs up” to your cock while you’re fucking her; tell her her pussy is tight! She’ll love you and your “big” cock a little more! ;)

“Ms. St. Claire? Ms. St. Claire?! Are you alright?”

“Huh?” I snap back.

“Are you ok?” He places the back of his hand to my forehead.

“Yes, why?” I ask nervously because
he’s touching me!

“One minute I’m asking if you were talking to me, the next, your eyes glossed over, your face turned bright red, and you were breathing rapidly. Is everything ok?” He crouches down to me.

“Um . . . oh. Sorry.” I shake my head. “I was lost in my thoughts . . . sorry.” I say again.

“What on Earth were you thinking about?” He chuckles lightly. “I thought I was going to have to call a medic!”

I could easily tell him that I was lost in the thought of our impromptu “session” earlier but he probably won’t remember it to reminisce along with me. That’s because he wasn’t really here. He was only fucking me in my mind. He fucks me there every day, at some point. Always on my desk. My own little—made for my mind—porno: THINK OF SOMETHING HERE!!!

“I don’t even know,” I say and give him, what I think is, my most perplexed look.

“Are you diabetic?”

“No. Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” I wave his idea off.

“Have you eaten?”

“No,” I answer and feel my palms start to sweat. I’m just realizing how close his face is to mine.

“That’s it then!” He slaps his knee. “Here, I’ve brought you a coffee.” Taking it out of the drink tray, he places it on my desk near me. “Please, eat my muffin.”

I’d like for him to eat
my
muffin!

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.” I smile, eyeing it. “Maybe just half.” I give in before he puts in a fight. What? It’s the—limited time only—banana muffin from Dunkin’s. I’m not passing up on that shit! He nods, smiling as he pulls the plush chair (the one he was just cradling me on, telling me how tight I was . . . ahem) closer to my desk and takes his coffee out of the drink tray, as well. “You don’t have to bring me coffee every week.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something else?” Declan reaches for my cup.