Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (104 page)

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Authors: Violet Duke

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Collections & Anthologies, #Romance

BOOK: Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection
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Today has dragged a bit, weekend or not, and I’m ready to go home for a bath and some serious nesting under my goose down comforter. But when I push open the door to the apartment, I find Fran on the sofa, crying. I run to her and cup her wet cheeks in my hands. “Fran, what’s wrong? What happened?”

The tears are sliding furiously down her face and I’m worried. This isn’t like Fran. I pull her close to me and just hold her. After a few minutes, she pulls back. “My mom just called. My dad contacted her again, pressing her for my information. He told her he’s changed. He’s not going to let this go until he finds me, Gabby.”

“Fran, listen to me. You’re not that little girl anymore. He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him hurt you, I promise.”

She looks at me with lifeless green eyes. She doesn’t seem panicked or scared, more resigned. It’s shattering to see my strong, independent Fran brought to her knees by the possibility of seeing her father.

“That’s just it, Gabby. Whenever I even think about my dad, I am that little girl. I don’t want to see him again. I can’t see him.”

“So you won’t,” I say with a fierce determination.

I help Fran into her jammies and she climbs into bed with me. I hold her all night long, and watch her as she sleeps. Her ebony hair sprawled across the pillow, her long, dark eyelashes hovering on her face. So beautiful, but so sad. Just a vulnerable little girl who only ever wanted what every little girl wants…a father who will love her and protect her against the horrors of the world, not create them.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

SATURDAY MORNING I awake to a sleeping Fran. There’s not a hint of her past lining her face, only peace. That’s what I wish for her. As I watch her, I think of the struggle she’s had to endure over the years and my issues seem so small in comparison.

I pull on my jeans, a t-shirt, my red Converse, and then grab my iPod. Leaving Fran a quick note on the kitchen counter, I slip in my earbuds and jam to “Candy Girl” by New Edition while I suck on a Twizzler. I’ve got the perfect plan; subway, fancy coffee, and those special chocolate donuts with sprinkles that Fran loves so much.

The Brew House is packed this morning, but I spot Brad immediately behind the counter. It’s hard to miss that dimpled smile. Although, I notice he isn’t smiling today. I make my way through the long line, pulling my earbuds from my ears, until finally it’s my turn. “Hey, Brad.”

“Hey, Gabby,” he says with glassy eyes and downturned lips.

“Are you okay?”

He looks over at Erica, his right-hand in the shop. “Can you take over the register for a bit?”

I steer him to a nearby table. His eyes glaze over and all I see is sadness. “What is it, Brad? What’s going on?”

He pauses, unsure whether he wants to continue. “It’s just that…today is the anniversary of my sister’s death. She passed away five years ago, from breast cancer.”

“God, Brad, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay. I don’t like to talk about it that much.”

A lone tear rolls down his cheek, and I have a strong desire to lift my finger and wipe it away, but I don’t. Instead, I place my hand over his, ever so briefly. I need him to know that I understand. And I do. I really do.

He looks down at our hands, and I feel the need to say something. “I’d love to hear about her sometime, if you’d like. When you’re ready, that is…I’m a really great listener.”

We sit quietly for a few minutes, before the shop starts to get more crazy and they need him behind the counter. Brad pats my hand and half-smiles, then goes back to work.

When I get back to our apartment, Fran is awake and watching re-runs of I Love Lucy. As soon as I walk in, she turns the TV off.

I mill around our tiny kitchen, pull a tray and some napkins from a cupboard under the microwave, arrange our breakfast on it, and then go sit next to Fran on the sofa. “Two special chocolate sprinkle donuts, and one caramel latte.”

“Thanks, hon. I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you. So, how do you feel this morning?”

“Drained. All that therapy I went through so I could heal from that nightmare. My mother dragged me every week for four freaking years. There’s no way I can let him back in my life again. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know that I don’t ever want to see that dirtbag again. I don’t care how much he told my mom he’s changed. He doesn’t exist in my life.”

“I know, Fran. It’s going to be okay. I promise you.” I hesitate for a second. “Have you told Kyle about all this?”

She exhales a large breath. “No, not yet.”

I cover her hand with mine. “I really think you should, Fran. If your dad is serious, you’re going to need all the support you can get.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

 

SEX ON A SUNDAY. That’s what I wake up thinking…There’s nothing like the tantalizing thought of emerald eyes and wandering hands. Dane continues to blow my mind in the sexual arena and I’m looking forward to another round tonight. He definitely has a gift, that’s for sure. If you can consider excelling at giving pleasure a gift. I’ll gladly accept it anytime, no twisting of the arm necessary.

I’ve had sex before, but he’s certainly raised the bar. His prowess in this particular area is not unexpected, given that he’s an Adonis. Sex appeal drips from every sinew of his sensuous, chiseled body, like warm chocolate pouring seductively from a fountain. Thick, hot, rich.

I need a cold shower.

 

* * * * *

 

MY FASHION STYLIST has chosen my dress for the evening, and apparently it needs to be sexy with a burst of color, like the mint green stretch satin dress with the spaghetti straps that’s cut far above the knee. According to Fran, it shows just the right amount of cleavage, while still leaving something to the imagination.

I’m sitting on a chair in our makeshift beauty salon in the bathroom, getting ready for Fran to do my hair. I peek up at her. “So, do you think he’ll be turned on by my day of the week undies?”

Fran’s mouth hangs open and she nearly drops the hairbrush. “You did not!” she screams out. She’s so fun to tease and I can’t resist.

I giggle. “Of course not! But don’t act so offended, you used to wear them in elementary and middle school, remember?”

A happy noise escapes her throat. “Yeah, I remember. In fact, even then I remember Friday was my favorite day. I seem to remember that you used to wear them too, chickie, even in high school…”

“They made really cute ones! I can’t help it! I was addicted.” I look around the room covertly and whisper, “truth be told, I still have a pair hidden away in my keepsake box. The ones I was wearing when I lost my virginity to Clark. It was Thursday.” I do have a tendency to save things.

Fran looks at me like she’s either going to vomit or burst into giggles, and I know she’s torn between the thought of dirty underwear in my keepsake box and my sickeningly sweet nostalgia. “Please tell me they’ve been washed.”

“Of course they have! I just couldn’t throw them away. They represent something very special to me.” I sigh and wipe away a tear.

A hint of laughter tickles her throat before she leans down and kisses my cheek. “That’s one of the things I love about you…you’re so sentimental.” She playfully swats me with the hairbrush. “Okay, enough of this sentimental shit, let’s get back to hair.”

Fran does my hair in a sexy, casual updo with soft strands dangling on each side of my face. Neck exposure is always good and it encourages nibbling. I like that.

I push back on the makeup, as usual. She wants dramatic and I want simple, so we compromise and go heavier on my pout. Lancome lipstick in
Berry Sensual
. Seems very fitting.

Fran spins me around, then stands back. “You look amazing, Gabby.”

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“I don’t get you, Gabby. Why don’t you seem excited? Dane is super hot, he’s rich, he wines and dines you…”

I feel like pulling my hair down and ripping off these clothes already. “Fran, the sex is definitely hot, and he totally turns me on, but you know this is just a physical thing…a good distraction.”

Her hands immediately go to her hips and her foot starts that tapping thing. “Does Dane know that Gabby? I mean, why don’t you open yourself up? Who knows what could happen?”

Staring down at the carpet, I tell her “He’s just…”

She cuts me off. “Stop thinking so much, and just enjoy yourself. Leave yourself open to possibility.”

The truth is that I don’t see possibility. I don’t really connect with Dane on anything other than sex. It’s hard to admit, even to myself that he’s just a “fuck buddy.” At the same time though it’s kind of nice not to have to worry about an attachment.

Taking one last glance in the mirror, I hardly recognize my reflection. I’m not even sure I like who I see. It doesn’t look like me. Oh well.

When I get to Dane’s hotel, a tingling excitement comes over me, and I already feel a dampness between my thighs. Eyeing his hotel room door, it feels like I’m about to enter the dragon’s lair. I knock once and wait for the dragon to appear. Unfortunately, when he does, he looks less like a mythical beast and more like a dashing knight. He’s wearing his trademark black pants and a green button-down shirt that reveals a tiny bit of tanned skin. We match perfectly, almost as if we planned it.

“Gabby, you look absolutely breathtaking.” He runs a hand casually from my neck to the hem of my extremely short dress.

My whole body shivers.

He invites me into his suite and I immediately notice the table for two complete with white linen tablecloth, candlelight and a bottle of champagne. Very Dane. Taking my hand, he leads me over to the table and pulls out my chair. Always the gentleman, at least for the time being.

I take in our surroundings. “Wow, Dane, you went all out tonight.”

He reaches for my hand and drops a kiss on my palm. “I wanted it to be special for you.”

We dine on a luscious meal of brown butter scallops over linguini which is seriously to die for. As we eat, Dane talks a lot about his work…again.

“I just landed this big client that the agency’s been trying to snag for the past two years. I was able to put a unique spin on their marketing strategy. We had a meeting the other day and I laid out several concepts. They were extremely impressed and now they’re hooked.”

Actually, Dane talks about himself a lot. Maybe I’ve just been ignoring it, but the evidence is glaring tonight. He’s pretty self-absorbed. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life; my mom, my dad, my sister. As he continues to talk, I try to appear attentive, though I’ve completely zoned out. I’m wondering if the hotel has any chocolate cake for dessert.

“Gabby?” he finally asks, bringing me out of my fog.

“Yes.”

“Am I boring you?”

Yes, very much. “No, not at all. I enjoy hearing about your work. It’s very interesting.”

“Would you like some more champagne?”

You don’t have to get me drunk, I’m pretty much a sure thing. “That’d be great, thanks.”

After pouring more champagne, Dane stands and extends his hand. Before I’m even up on my feet, he descends on me like a wild animal. He’s no longer a knight. His hands are fisting in my hair and his tongue engulfs mine with bold, fiery licks. Hot, heavy breaths fall into my mouth as he continues his onslaught. I feel his hands all over my body…stroking, touching, and squeezing while his rock hard chest pushes against the fullness of my breasts. He turns me on and fills me with a desperate lust that I seem to need right now. Panting heavily, I roll my hips against his, begging him with my body to seduce me. He answers by slowly sliding the thin straps of satin down my heated arms, then slipping the soft fabric down past my breasts, past my hips, until it drops to the floor. I’m not wearing a bra. His eyes are immediately riveted to my chest and he licks his lips, pulling me harder against him so I feel every inch of his arousal. Small moans leave my lips and I hear him gasp as he whispers, “your tits are fucking amazing.” His words and the burst of air leaving his mouth bounce off my skin, making me hot and wet between my legs.

I unbutton his shirt as he rolls his thumb and forefinger over my nipples, squeezing ever so lightly and causing me to whimper.

“I want to taste those sweet nipples,” he says, lowering his head and taking me in his mouth.

I stifle a giggle at his words. There’s dirty talk and then there’s porno talk. He’s walking a fine line.

His breathing quickens and I inhale the soft, spicy scent wafting through the air as my fingertips scrape his chest, glide the linen fabric off, and toss it to the ground. My eyes move lower and I see that his pants have already joined his shirt, his arousal bulging through the seam of his shorts. Pressing his eager body against mine, my thighs are suddenly aching for him.

Dane pushes me against the wall, tearing at my soaked panties, while he exposes the silky hardness waiting for me. “You’re so damn wet,” he groans.

His head and tongue move lower until I realize where he’s headed, and I fist my hands in his hair and bring his mouth back to mine. That level of intimacy isn’t something I’m willing to share with him. His lips make their way back down to my nipples, sucking and licking the hardened crest.

“You taste so fucking good.”

My head falls back and loud moans pour out of me as he brings me close to the edge. He leans up and enters me with one powerful thrust and I gasp at the intense contact. His large hands palm my breasts as he glides in and out, causing more hungry sounds to leave my berry- stained lips, the smell of champagne flowing out of my mouth.

The smooth, hard wall is pressing against my back, cooling the raw heat we’re creating with our scorching bodies.

“I love to fuck you, Gabby!” is accompanied by loud grunting noises.

Puffs of breath blow on my searing skin, making my body tremble uncontrollably. He pushes inside me harder and harder and I long to arch my back, to absorb the intensity of his thrusts into that deep space between my quivering thighs. I feel the pressure building and a sudden need for release, my mouth letting out loud cries of pleasure. Our breathing accelerates and our bodies are wound to the brink.

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