Emily Snow's Blog

April 25, 2015

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter 20

“Later?” I repeat teasingly when Lucas moves away from his spot between my legs. I grin up at him, feeling my heart race when he returns the expression. He touches the button of my jeans, undoing it. Then he yanks down the zipper in a quick, fluid motion. I shiver, the intense ripples dancing through my body and affecting the words I say next, “Later tonight or later—”
“Much later,” he interrupts. He drags my jeans—and panties—down my hips, jerks them past my feet, and discards them in a heap beside the couch. Bending, he kisses the inside of my left thigh. “Right now…” He moves his lips to my right thigh. “I’m going to fuck you.”
I gasp when his lips move higher up my leg. “You get right to the point, don’t you?” Nodding, he circles his tongue over the pale skin a mere few inches from my sex. “And here I was thinking we’d have a sweet night of lovemaking.”
He laughs, and my stomach flutters as his breath warms the sensitive flesh between my legs. Automatically, I clench my core, anticipating, wanting and needinghim. “We’ve gone over this before, Sienna. We’ll save that for later, but I need you now.”
He kisses my clit, causing me to grasp the linen material of our couch with one hand and a handful of his shaggy dark hair with the other. His lips move over the throbbing nub softly—almost as if he’s forgotten his own promise from a few seconds ago.
“I could write songs about you all day,” he muses between kisses.
“You’re going to make your band hate me,” I manage to argue, even as the sweet pressure builds in my core. “If all of your songs are about me and my—” He muffles my last few words with a few expert strokes of his tongue. Lucas Wolfe and his mouth are going to be the death of me.
Giving my center one last kiss, Lucas stands up straight. He stares down at me trembling and breathing heavily on the couch. “I don’t give a fuck how they feel, Red, but hate is the last thing any of them would say when it comes to you.” He shakes his head sternly. “No more about the band or your mother. I won’t bring those motherfuckers or crazy ass Rebecca into our bed.”
“Couch,” I remind him. “Technically, we’d be bringing them to our couch.” And I felt all sorts of dirty knowing that we’d eventually entertain guests in this very room.
He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Bed, couch—I can still find a way to tie you up to either.” When I open my mouth, he shakes his head. “And spank that perfect ass on either.”
“Promises, promises,” I laugh, but before I can utter another syllable, he pulls me up from the couch and turns me facing away from him. Cupping my breast through my shirt with one hand, he slaps my ass—once, then twice—with his free hand, drawing a moan brimming with pleasure and pain from the back of my throat. “Ouch,” I pant, and he chuckles.
“Ouch? Next time make it a little more believable because, right now, you sound like you’ll come all over the fucking place as soon as I touch you.” He curves my body to his, so that I can feel his erection through his jeans against my ass. Holy hell. “I keep my promises,” he says directly in my ear. I swallow hard and twist my head to look him in his hazel eyes. “And the way you’re breathing, the way you’re looking at me—” He flicks his tongue over the center of my lips, squeezes my hip, and releases my breast. “Just makes me want to keep them quicker.”
Speechless, I return to the couch and watch as he strips his tee shirt and jeans from his toned, tattooed body. I’ve always been too chicken shit to get a tattoo of my own, but damn, staring at the intricate ink on his tan skin makes the heat between my legs intensify.  I follow the star tattoos down to his cock, and my face goes up in flames. When he catches me staring at him, he faces me directly, grinning broadly.
“Did you just lick your lips?”
“No,” I lie. He climbs onto the couch, positioning himself back between my thighs. He slides his hand between us and I suck in a deep breath as he slides a finger back and forth over my sex, each time coming close to my clit but not quite there. When I see his cocky grin and realize that he’s purposely teasing me, I grit my teeth. “You arrogant shit, of course I licked my lips and—”
I quickly forget what I was about to say next because he pulls a move that’s pure magic—his thumb finds my clit, his erection nudges past the opening of my sex, and that beautiful, talented mouth of his closes around my nipple. I buck my hips. He responds by driving into my body harder. Faster.
I lose myself in him. Feel every nerve ending of my body sing for Lucas. And when I’m seconds away from completely letting go, and I’m telling him how much I love him over and over, I feel his mouth centimeters from mine. “I fucking love you too, Sienna.”

Just as he promised, the sweet, unhurried lovemaking does come later. And after we’re done and I’m spooned against him in our actual bed, he keeps his other promise. He brings up my mother.
“How much did she ask you for?” I question, and I feel him let out a breath against the nape of my neck.
“Hundred?” I ask hopefully, even though that’s still a ridiculous amount of money.
He laughs. “Thousand, Red,” he says and I cringe. Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with my mom? Turning my head to look at him, I shake my head, and take a few seconds to catch my breath and let the shame roll through me.
“I’m so sorry. And embarrassed. And—” I pull in a shuddering breath, and he feathers his thumb over my cheek.
“You shouldn’t be,” he says. “And no offense, but fuck her.”
I force a laugh. “Did you tell her that?”
“I did.”
“And she didn’t try to burn your eyes out with a cigarette?”
He kisses me between the shoulder blades, and I automatically arch them together. “She gave me a long-winded spiel about ruining my career, then threw in some more pleading. I told her to fuck off again and to have a good time when she tried to shit on my career. My attorneys will eat her ass alive.”
I lift my eyebrow. “And you think that’ll work on her.”
He moves his lips to my neck, and my pulse races when his hand finds my hip. Sure enough, he rolls me over, pulling me on top of him. The last thing he says about my mother before laying claim to my body again is, “She doesn’t have a choice.”

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Published on April 25, 2015 17:48 • 190 views

February 8, 2015

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter 19

Although I try my hardest to avoid mentioning my mother again over dinner, it doesn’t stop me from worrying over what Gram had told me over the next several hours. I should have known mom wouldn’t leave without wanting something, and I feel stupid for not realizing she’d ask for money before finally skulking away from Nashville. I’m just relieved that my grandmother had shot her down this time. The last thing we need is Gram getting another loan, putting herself back in debt just to appease my mother.
When I pick up Lucas from the airport, I plan to question him about whether my mom has asked for money the second I see him, but that idea flies out the window when I actually lay eyes on him. Wearing dark, slim-fitting jeans and an olive Henley with the sleeves pushed up far enough to showcase the sexy star tattoos on his muscular forearms, he takes my breath away as he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads in my direction.
“Welcome home,” I mouth, and he grins, quickening my pulse. Once he’s within earshot, I can’t help but smile like an idiot. “God, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I whisper in a husky voice. A powerful jolt of emotion slams into me when he pulls me to him by the first thing his long fingers come in contact with—the belt loop on my jeans—and he kisses me rough and hard.
Right in the middle of the airport.
“I love meeting you like this, Red.” I shiver as he runs one hand up the side of my body, not stopping until he’s touching my low ponytail. With a practiced flick of his fingers, he unravels my hairband and slips it into my back pocket. He backs away from me, wearing a mock frown. “But we should probably get home before I tear your clothes off right here.”
I laugh. “Yes, because your rabid fan club needs something new to hate me over.”
Our conversation on the way home is light, everything from Lucas teasing me about getting a new car—in my opinion, my old sedan is still perfectly functional—to himtelling me about a huge charity event the band has agreed to play in a couple weeks.
“It’s a big deal to Sin, so that makes it a big deal for me,” he explains, as I slow my car to a stop at the red light that leads into our neighborhood. I turn to him with one eyebrow raised. 
“Did you tell Sin that?” Even though he’s in love, I can’t imagine my surly drummer friend letting Lucas get by with such sentimental words. Sure enough, Lucas chuckles.
“He told me to fuck myself.” He tilts his head to the side, and automatically, I reach out and tuck a lock of his messy dark hair behind his ear. He catches my hand and traces his lips over my palm before lifting his hazel eyes to mine. “And that you’re making me soft. I believe the term he used was pussy-whipped.”
Noticing that the light has turned green, I make a right turn. “God, that Sinjin Fields is a charmer.” I roll my eyes. “Did you tell him to go fuck himself right back?”
Lucas snorts. “Did you expect anything else from either of us?”
“Never.” Turning into our driveway, I turn off the ignition and take a deep breath. “Welcome back home, Lucas.”
“It’ll feel a hell of a lot more welcome once you’re out of those clothes and I find out why you’re so…”
I stiffen. “So what?”
“Stressed. You look stressed, Red, which tells me your mom’s been fucking with you again.”
I swallow hard. “That obvious?”
He points down at the steering wheel. “I’m surprised you haven’t yanked that goddamn thing off with the way you’re gripping it.” Then he nods at the house in front of us. “We’re not going in until you’ve told me what it is. I’m not letting that woman ruin our night.”
Inhaling, I count to ten before releasing a heavy breath and blurting out, “Did my mother come to you asking for money?” I switch on the interior light to see his face, and when there’s not even the slightest hint of confusion in his expression, I feel my heart sink. Not this shit again. “Jesus, Lucas, you can’t just throw money at people like my mom, expecting that it’ll be enough for her to just go away—”
But he cuts me off when he gets out the car. Sucking in my cheeks, I watch as he comes around to my side of the vehicle. He opens my door and tells me in a rough voice, “Turn off that light and get out the damn car.”
“Why? I thought we weren’t going inside until we talked it out.”
“Turn off the light, Sienna,” he repeats in a low voice.
When I do, he draws my hands in his. He pulls me against him, nudging the door shut with his knee. Framing my face with his large hands, he tilts my gaze up to his and stares down at me intensely. “Just because she came at me with her hand stretched out, doesn’t mean I gave her shit.” When I tremble under his touch, he growls against my mouth, “But maybe I should’ve. I fucking loathe seeing you like this. Makes me want to take you back to L.A. where I know she won’t come to bother you.”

Before I can respond, he literally sweeps me off my feet. “The neighbors are probably looking out their windows at us,” I say, but I wrap my arms around his shoulder.
“Don’t grind your teeth.” Then he shrugs and grins. “And fuck the neighbors. Just wait until I’m blasting music at midnight to cover up the sounds of your screams, Red.” He manages to effortlessly unlock and open the front door without loosening his grip on me, not putting me down until we’re in the living room.
He places me on the couch, spreading my knees apart and positioning his body between my legs. “I didn’t give your mom anything,” he tells me again, planting a hand on the couch to support himself when he bends over me. He kisses my neck, and I moan. “I’m not going to give your mother anything.” He drops his mouth lower, and my nipples harden the closer he gets to my breast. “But I’m sure as fuck going to help you take care of this situation.”
“How? When?” I whisper, but he shakes his head, tangling his hand in my hair and bringing our lips together.
“Later,” he promises. 
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Published on February 08, 2015 18:11 • 258 views

January 15, 2015

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter 18

“You’re leaving?” I repeat my mother’s words, stunned by the bombshell she just dropped on my brother and me. Honestly, this is the last thing I expected her to say. When she nods, I pull my brows together in a frown. “When did you decide to do this? And where exactly are you moving?” By now, I’m literally sitting on the edge of my seat, dying to know what Mom has up her sleeve this time.
She stops pacing a few feet from entrance to living room. With her back turned to us, she lifts her thin shoulders into a shrug. “Why does it matter when I decided to get the hell out of here? All you need to know is that I’m leaving a week from now to stay with friends.”
I cringe. Because the first thing that comes to my mind are the friends she used to surround herself with when Seth and I were kids. “How—” I start to ask, but Mom cuts me off by turning around and holding up her hands to stop me.
“And no, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for, but I can’t be around this type of environment anymore.”
The irritated tone that she uses when she speaks those words, and the way she gestures around at my living room, puts a sour taste in my mouth. From opposite ends of the couch, Seth and I glance at each other. His brown eyes are narrowed into thin slits, and when he mouths, “What the fuck?” I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.
 Aggravated, I come right out and confront her. “Mom, if you’re trying to say that the reason that you’re leaving is because of us, you can stop right there.”
“Nobody said a damn thing about you being the reason, Sienna.” Sitting down on the edge of the chaise lounge by the fireplace, she combs her hands through her strawberry blond hair and sighs. “Maybe you’re thinking that way because you’re guilty.”
“Neither of us is guilty,” I retort before Seth can say a word, and he gives me a nod before turning his focus back on our mother.
“Have you told Gram about your plans yet?” he asks.
My muscles tighten in suppressed anger when Mom rolls her green eyes and lifts her shoulders again. I already know she’s going to say something totally warped, so I should just cover my ears, but I don’t.  “Why does it matter?” she asks, looking me right in the eye as she says it, knowingly baiting me.
Those four words start the argument. It’s heated and I’m sure my new neighbors can probably hear the back and forth yelling that echoes through the giant house, but I don’t care. By the time Seth leaves, taking our mother along with him, I’m shaking and my entire body is flushed because here’s the thing: I can deal just fine with Mom’s flippant attitude toward me—hell, I’m used to it—but for her not to even consider Gram’s feelings…
Well, that infuriates me.
I’m still fuming when I go out to dinner with Gram and Seth two nights later. Because Lucas is flying in to Nashville later tonight, we opt for an earlier than usual time to meet at one of Gram’s favorite restaurant in Green Hills. Since I moved back to Nashville earlier this year, we try to have dinner out at least once a month, but tonight we sit in unusual silence. It reminds me of the time we came here this last summer—right before I left to go on tour with Lucas and Your Toxic Sequel. Seth had turned dinner into an awkward situation when he’d lectured me about leaving with Lucas, even going as far as to give me safe sex advice.
Tonight, however, my little brother says nothing.
He doesn’t want to break our grandma’s heart with the news that Mom is planning on leaving without telling her, and neither do I.
By the time we get through our appetizers and the waiter brings out our main course, Gram has had enough of the uncomfortable silence. From her spot next to me, she sets her sweet tea down beside her plate and sits back in the booth. She stares between my brother and me. “Seth, when you don’t talk, I know something is wrong.” Her bright blue eyes narrow. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Seth focuses his dark eyes down at his plate, and across from him, I tap my fingers on the table. He doesn’t look up. Of course, my little brother would lose his ability to speak and leave this up to me. I release a heavy sigh. “Gram, Mom talked to Seth and me the other day, and—”
“She’s skipping town.” It isn’t a question—and there’s not even a hint of surprise in her voice. She already knows about this, and I feel my heart sink. Seth’s gaze pops up, and we both stare at her, waiting for her to continue. She takes another sip of her sweet tea. “I figured it out when she asked me for money.”
“How much?” I whisper.
“Five thousand.”
I swallow hard. Gram’s not a rich woman. Thanks to my mom, she’d lost her home at the beginning of this year. To think that she’s being played again makes me see red. “Gram … did you give it to her?” I ask in the gentlest tone I can manage.
She shakes her head, turning her attention on the half-eaten grilled salmon on her plate. A sad smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “But boy did she give me a story about wanting to start over. Sienna, Seth … I want her to start over—more than anything else, I want that for your mother—but I can’t do it anymore.”
“So, is she still planning to move?” my brother asks, not even trying to hide the hope in his voice.
“Thanks for finally contributing to the conversation,” I say under my breath, and he shoots me a dark look as my grandmother responds to his question with an unsure nod.
When Gram turns toward me, covers my hand with hers, I already know what she’s about to tell me, but I still suck in a breath through my teeth when she says, “She’s planning to ask Lucas for money, Sienna. I thought it was fair to warn you.”
“Fuck,” Seth says, and Gram presses her lips into a line, causing him to immediately apologize.
I start to tell them both that Lucas absolutely won’t give my mother the time of day, but then I vividly recall how he’d aided her before with her early release. It had been an attempt to get her off my back, but his plan had backfired when she decided to place herself directly into my life again. Lucas has said over and over again how different my mood is when Mom is around, so who knows what he’d be willing to do to make her leave.
Turning my hand, I give Gram’s fingers a little squeeze. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”
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Published on January 15, 2015 17:30 • 242 views

January 1, 2015

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter 17

My head is still spinning in the best way possible when my brother texts four days later, on Wednesday, asking if he can come over. Since Gram has probably already told him all about the house Lucas gave me—I’d excitedly given her the grand tour on Monday when she stopped by before a doctor’s appointment—I message him back to let him know I’ll be home.
I swear that word is going to take more getting used to than fiancé did.
Waiting for Seth to show up, I try my best to put some order to the moving clutter in the foyer. Lucas hadn’t left for Los Angeles until yesterday evening, which had given me more time with him than I’d anticipated. Instead of spending that extra time in bed (or, you know, against a wall), like we normally would, we’d started the process of furniture shopping. Well, I picked out furniture. He’d chuckled at my excitement, telling me he didn’t give a fuck what the inside of the house looked like as long as I’m in it.
I’d nearly swooned like a fool right in the middle of Restoration Hardware.
I’m in the middle of toting a couple of empty boxes to the garage when the doorbell rings. I toss the empty cardboard into the massive, empty space, and then race to the front door. Wearing a giant smile, I swing the door open and freeze when I get an eyeful of who’s standing on the porch with my brother.
My mother.
I’m going to choke my kid brother.
Seeing her so soon after our latest confrontation brings back that involuntary desire to grind my teeth, but I instead I continue to smile, which draws a hesitant, ghost of a grin from her. I don’t feel like dealing with a Rebecca-inspired headache tonight, but Gram had raised me to respect my parents, to be kind. Even though I’ve struggled like hell with that lately, I’m not going to tell my mother to go away. Not when she hasn’t done anything to antagonize me.
If and when that happens, though … well, then I’ll gladly show Mom the door.
Before I can say anything, my brother shrugs his broad shoulders sheepishly. “I was at Gram’s and she—”
“I’m standing right here, Seth, let me speak for my own damn self,” Mom interrupts, glaring daggers up at him. I bite the inside of my cheek. I haven’t even invited them inside and already she’s snippy. Turning her attention to me, one side of her mouth quirks up. “The three of us need to have a talk. And since I’ve heard Mama brag about this place for days—” She gestures widely to the house. “You gonna let us in, Sienna, or do you want your neighbors to hear everything I have to say?”
I feel every muscle in my body tighten as I move aside to let my brother and mother in. It takes every inch of self-control not to angrily slam the door because of the snide suggestion I heard in her words. Or hell, maybe I was just so used to her typical rudeness, I automatically assumed the worst. We’ve reached a point where the constant back-and-forth between us has to be playing tricks on my brain.
 Locking the front door, I cross my arms tightly over my chest and walk slowly beside my brother. My mom has wandered ahead, staring up at the high ceilings and peeking around corners, and she’s out of earshot when Seth bends his head and whispers, “Don’t be too pissed, Si. She wouldn’t back down and—”
I shake my head. “I’ll get over it, let’s just … let’s see what she wants, okay?”
When Mom disappears down a hallway, I tell Seth where the living room is and leave him behind, walking a little faster to find her. She doesn’t go far, because I quickly locate her in my new laundry room—which is state-of-the-art and gets me excited to do laundry every time I walk inside. Mom is leaning against the granite counters, staring out at the empty spots where my new washer and dryer will eventually stand.
She stays silent until I eventually walk in front of her with my eyebrow raised. I almost expect to see her eyes glazed over, but Mom was never into actually taking drugs—just selling them. She’s completely alert, completely herself, when she releases a harsh laugh and rakes her hand through her strawberry blond hair. “Lord, Sienna. You don’t give me any credit.”
I glance behind me, at the outlet box, and then turn my focus back to her green eyes, which are now narrowed. “You’re looking at a wall. Sorry, but that worries me a little.”
She laughs and I can’t decide if it’s bitter or genuine, so I hold my breath, waiting for her to talk. “When your dad and I got married, we dreamt of this.” I make a little noise, but she shakes her head. “And before you act like a smartass and ask if I’m talking about the goddamn laundry room, I’m not. I’m talking about this. This house. Well, houses like it.  Never worked out.”
“When you got remarried you had a nice place,” I point out, and she rolls her eyes.
“You love to throw that up in my face.”I haven’t directly brought up my asshole ex-stepfather or the big house they ran their mini drug empire from since Lucas helped her get an early release, but I decide to apologize anyway. “Sorry, but it was a general statement. Wasn’t throwing anything in your face.” When she gives me a stiff nod, I sigh. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Seth is waiting for us in the other room. We should go have that talk. I have a dinner appointment with a client at eight-thirty, and I can’t be late.”
It’s a lie, and a horrible one at that, but my mother seems to accept it. Gesturing to the hallway, she smirks. “Well, I don’t want to keep you, Sienna. Let’s get this over with.”
When we reach my new living room, Seth is texting, sprawled out on the linen sofa like he’s lived here for years. Glancing over at us, he lazily sits up. “You and douchebag are welcome to get me a couch like this for Christmas,” he drawls, ducking when I reach out to smack the back of his head as I sit next to him.
“I’d think by now you’d stop calling him that.”
“Someday,” my brother promises, sliding down to the other end of the couch so he’s far away from my reach.
From across the room, Mom clears her throat, pulling my brother’s brown eyes and my blue ones up to look at her. She’s pacing back and forth in front of the mantle and built-in bookshelves, clenching her thin hands together. “I realize what you two must think of me by now. I know what kind of person you think I am—and you’re probably justified. I’ve brought a world of hurt into both your lives, but I was never meant to be a mother. We all know that, so there’s no use pretending.”
Beside me, Seth groans. “Mom—”
She holds up her hand. “Let me finish,” she snaps, and I sink my fingers into the cushions. Feel a sharp pang in my chest because I can’t help but wonder if the next thing out my mother’s mouth will be to tell Seth and I we shouldn’t have been born or something equally as awful. Finally she continues, “The thing is, I don’t want to change. I don’t know how.”
Her words send a hot, familiar emotion flashing through me, and I drag my tongue over my teeth before I ask her why the hell we’re having this conversation if she has no intention of trying. But then Mom’s lips part again. And what she says next immediately silences me.

“Which is why I’m leaving.”
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Published on January 01, 2015 17:45 • 205 views

December 23, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Sixteen

To my relief, Gram takes me moving out surprisingly well, particularly when she finds out that the hotel I’m staying at until I can find an apartment of my own is less than a few miles from the cabin she’s lived in my entire life. When she quietly asks me if I’m okay with it—which I translate as her questioning if I think she’s choosing my mother over me—I let her know I love her and we’re fine. And I even go a step further by telling her I know she’d never do that, and vice versa.
The day my mom realizes the solidity of the bond between me and Gram, maybe things will change.
If she ever realizes it. Because right now, I can think of a thousand other miracles that’ll probably happen before my mom comes around.
With my stress-free move knocked out by Wednesday, I spend the rest of the week meeting with clients—both old and new—and trying to promote my business as a wardrobe consultant and personal shopper. When Lucas calls me Saturday night to let me know he’s just touched down in Nashville and he’ll be at my hotel as soon as he picks up his rental car, I’m ready for a break. Making up my mind to finish answering emails sometime tomorrow, I close my laptop and leave it on the coffee table before padding into the tiny bathroom to check my appearance. Dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, with my long red tresses piled into a messy bun, I look a little crappy.  Okay, a lot crappy.
Even though Lucas has assured me he wanted to spend the evening at home—well, my hotel room—I still decide to change. I go for simple and casual, dark skinny jeans, an oversized sweater, and brown boots. I’m in the process of brushing the fifty billion tangles from my hair when my doorbell rings, and immediately, my heartbeat races in anticipation.
 “Good God,” I say under my breath, leaving my brush on the bathroom counter before attempting to keep from sprinting to the front door. “Less than a week away from him, and I’ve already got butterflies before the man even steps inside.”
Reaching the door, I tuck a strand of unruly hair behind my ear, trying my best to smooth it. When I fling it open, a delicious grin stretches across Lucas’ face, which instantly draws a smile from me. Especially when I take in the way he’s dressed. Like usual, he’s clad his incredibly tall, tattooed, and muscular frame in jeans and a black-and-gray long sleeve tee, but he’s wearing the same glasses he’d sported several months ago when we went to a bar together.
And trust me, the sight of Lucas in those glasses—with his messy dark hair gathered at the nape of his neck—is just about enough to make me come undone.
When I don’t say anything, he finally teases, “Don’t tell me I’ve taken your breath away.”
“Absolutely not.” I step aside to let him in. “See, I’m breathing just fine.”
“Damn, Si. Way to fuck with my ego.” But the corners of his eyes crinkle as he continues to stand in the hallway. I motion for him to come inside, causing him to shake his head. “You look too beautiful, too perfect, for me to come inside just to peel your clothes off. I’m taking you out. At least for a little while.”
I nod slowly, and when I walk backward to grab my things, he steps into the doorway, following my movements carefully. “What would’ve happened if you found me dressed in sweats? Would you have still taken me out?” I ask with a laugh as I grab my purse and keys from one of the end tables.
Returning to him, I shift an eyebrow and he feathers the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “You’re a brave man, Lucas Wolfe.”
He brushes his lips over mine, and then grins. “I swear this won’t take long and then you’ll have that night at home I promised.”
Navigating through the Saturday night pre-Christmas Nashville traffic, Lucas probes me about my week, taking care not to ask too many questions about my move from Gram’s place and focusing all his attention on my business. I’m probably a little too enthusiastic talking about clothes, but he doesn’t mention it.
A moment after he takes the exit for Brentwood—a suburb just outside of the city—he turns to me and says, “I fucking love seeing you happy, Red.”
I wrinkle my brow in confusion. “I have been happy.”
“Uh huh.” He turns into a residential area. “Bullshit.”
Frowning, I twist completely in my seat to stare at him. “What do you—?”
“You haven’t been yourself since your mom came back into the picture. Usually when I’m in town you’re moody because of her. This is the first time I’ve seen you this … this relaxed in a long ass time.”
I touch his thigh. “I’m always happy with you. You know that.”
He closes his fingers around mine, dragging my hand up a couple inches. “Careful,” he warns in a sexy growl. “You’re gonna change the course of our night real fast doing things like that.”
I start to speak, but then he pulls the rental car into a circular driveway, stopping and turning off the ignition once we’re in front of a large brick house that’s already been decorated for the holidays. I let the bright, cheery Christmas lights dazzle me for a few more moments before asking Lucas, “Another one of your colleague’s parties?” He moves his head slightly, and I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, staring down at what I’m wearing. “Should I have dressed up? It looks like we’re early, so maybe we should go back to my place to—”
He gathers my face in his, pulling me close to him, and I breathe him in. “Relax, Si. You’re perfect. You always have been.”
His response only makes me worry more as we walk to the front door together, but he gives me a reassuring smile as we step into the luxurious house. To my surprise, it’s utterly quiet. Touching his finger to my lips to quiet the question that’s on the tip of my tongue, Lucas then takes my hand in his and guides me through the house.
“I know we’ve wondered a lot about where we’d live after everything was said and done, but there’s no rule we have to live in one place, Si. We’ve got my place in L.A. and the vacation house in the mountains, but I wanted a home where your heart is too.”
“Lucas,” I start, my breath catching in my throat as we turn the corner and enter the kitchen.
He leads me closer to the center counter, where there’s a piece of paper sitting next to a couple of keys. My heart feels like it’s in my throat as he nudges me closer. I read the brief note on the paper slowly, squeezing his hand tightly.   I fucking adore you, Si. So much that I’ll probably write a hundred more songs about you before it’s all said and done. Let’s start here. Merry early Christmas, Red.
“Lucas, did you buy this house?” I question breathlessly.
“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Last month, in fact. It was supposed to be a Christmas present for you, but given the circumstances, I figured you could unwrap it a few weeks early—”
I launch myself into his arms, and silently, he holds me close. Everything he said earlier about having a night in suddenly makes sense, and when I pull away from him, I can feel tears prickling the corners of my eyes.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Welcome home, Sienna.”
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Published on December 23, 2014 18:57 • 218 views

December 22, 2014

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On the run, Luc gets word from LLMC that the cartel has agreed to return Angel to them instead of killing her, but they need a replacement. If Luc hands over Lilith, trained and ready to be delivered to the cartel, the club will forgive him his betrayal and welcome him back into the fold. Luc must decide where his loyalty lies—with the club that saved his life and Angel who almost broke his resolve to never keep anyone for himself, or with Lilith, the crazy bitch who got inside his head and knows him better than anyone ever has.      

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All available now
  ANGEL Book 3 (Lucifers Legions Motorcycle Club)   http://www.amazon.com/Angel-Lucifers-Legion-Motorcycle-Club- ebook/dp/B00R95OWDU/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1419081156&sr=1- 4  
Lucifer’s Legion Motorcycle Club #1 : Lilith http://www.amazon.com/Lilith-Lucifers-Legion-Motorcycle-Club- ebook/dp/B00PI8QSKA/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1419081156&sr=1-3  
Lucifer’s Legion Motorcycle Club #2 : Nomad http://www.amazon.com/Nomad-Lucifers-Legion-Motorcycle-Club- ebook/dp/B00QCRYU4M/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1419081156&sr=1- 2   [image error]  

Kelli Maine is the erotic romance author of USA Today Bestseller and #1 Nook book, Taken, and the Give & Take series, along with the Dolls & Doms novellas and Chains. She lives in Northeast Ohio with her husband and kids. When she’s not writing, Kelli enjoys watching reality T.V., getting lost in random Wikipedia pages and searching online ads for vintage muscle cars.

Favorite Author: Diana Gabaldon
Favorite Food: Japanese
Favorite Superhero: Spiderman
Favorite Place I’ve Been: Yucatan Peninsula
Writing Must Haves: Coffee and chocolate
Plotter or Pantser: Proud Pantser

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/kellimainebooks</ a> 
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Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/0v8A5        
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Published on December 22, 2014 06:11 • 142 views

December 16, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Fifteen

Unlike the last time I went to Atlanta with Lucas, the rest of our trip goes down without a hitch. I have dinner with his parents and Kylie the next evening and then he takes me on a tour of the places that shaped the early days of Your Toxic Sequel—the underground club where the band played their first show and the music store where he picked up his favorite guitar. When I leave him on Monday morning, I’m alone, but I know we’ll be together again soon. As bummed as I am about returning to Nashville without him, I am thankful to be back. Not only have I received a ton of new emails about wardrobe consulting for the holiday season—this is a big thing for me since I’d lost a couple clients early this fall—I also know it’s time I confront my mother about the entire ex-boyfriend-at-Thanksgiving dinner fiasco.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait too long because Mom is smoking her Marlboro’s outside when the taxi driver drops me off at Gram’s cabin Monday afternoon. My grandmother’s trusty old Mercedes isn’t in the driveway, which means I have Mom all to myself.
“Is this a habit of yours?” she calls out over the sound of the cab pulling off. Rocking the porch swing back, she takes a deep drag of her cigarette and narrows her eyes at me as I walk slowly up the front steps. When I lift my eyebrow, she elaborates, “Just picking up and leaving to chase after your rich boyfriend? It must get exhausting, baby girl.”
My hand freezes on the doorknob and my own eyes narrow into tight slits. “For starters, your hot and cold act is getting really old. And secondly, my rich fiancé is the reason why you get to spend your days chain smoking. But to answer your question, yeah. I’m happy to follow that man anywhere.” When I enter the house, Mom is right behind me. She slams the door, and I suck in a deep breath. Turning around, I throw my oversized duffle bag on the hardwood foyer floor. “I’m sick of this. You’re acting like a child—a spoiled one at that. Do you realize that you’re an adult? That you have grown-ass kids? It’s time to grow up and stop the bull.”
“Aren’t we bitchy today. Can’t handle a little joke about—” Mom clears her throat before sarcastically whispering, “Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe.”
“Trust me, I can. But what I’m not going to deal with are your games.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I was completely blindsided when you invited Preston to dinner, and—”
“I was testing a theory.”
“Excuse me?”
She shoves her half-empty packet of cigarettes into her jacket pocket and hangs it up on the coat rack by the door. When she starts to walk toward me slowly, I brace myself for whatever bull she’s about to chuck in my direction. “You swore up and down Preston was the love of your life. I needed to see how you’d react to him, if what you have with Lucas Wolfe is nothing but hero worship.”
By the time the last word is spoken, she’s a few inches away from me—close enough for me to reach out and slap her, the way my palm is itching to. We’re both quiet, standing beneath the foyer lights, and what she’d just said tumbles around in my head. She was using something I’d said before I turned eighteen against me. And hero worship? She might as well have flat out called me Lucas’ number one groupie.
Before I can stop myself, I throw my head back and laugh. I’m still laughing when I turn away from my mom and head upstairs toward my attic bedroom—the one that she took over upon her return to Gram’s house. And I’m laughing when I start to grab some of my clothes—which are intermingled with hers—from the closet.
Of course she follows me, but I keep my back turned to her when she asks, “What are you doing, Sienna?”
“Where’s Gram?” I counter.
“If you leave, you’re gonna break—”
“Don’t even try that with me,” I snap, grasping a pair of jeans close to my chest. “I lived in California for years before I moved back. The only thing that’s going to break Gram’s heart is if I stay here and end up choking the everliving piss out of you.”
Mom gasps, though I’m not sure if she’s truly shocked or if she wants me to feel bad. At the moment, I don’t care. “Learn some respect, you little bitch. You can’t talk to me like that.”
“Right.” I grab my old Coach luggage from the bottom of the closet and begin stuffing items in it. “Because you raised me so much better than that. You’ll have to excuse the sass, Mom, but there’s only so much one person can take before they don’t give a shit.”
She doesn’t respond, but as I finish loading my bag, I hear her shuffling her feet. “She’s at a doctor’s appointment,” she finally says. Because I don’t acknowledge her, she forcefully repeats, “Your grandmother is at a doctor’s appointment.”
Hoisting the bag on my arm, I stand upright and turn around to face my mom with a steely look. Part of me had hoped to find regret or apology in her expression—even a little—but I’m disappointed to see her lips curled in a frown. A disgusted frown. The same look she wore time and time again when I was a kid. Back then, that dispassionate look would make me cry, but now I straighten my spine. My chest hurts—God, does it hurt—but I don’t want her to see that she’s affected me.
“I don’t understand you,” I say through clenched teeth. “I want to. I want to be this big happy family, and I want us to work through all these problems because I don’t want to have regrets, but I don’t understand you.”
“Let me guess, you want to be like the Wolfe family?” she demands, stepping aside as I approach the door.
Squeezing the handle of my bag for support, I walk by her, making sure my blue eyes lock with her green when I say, “No, just a functional family. And for the record, my relationship with Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe is one hundred percent real.” 
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Published on December 16, 2014 20:26 • 253 views

December 8, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Fourteen

Every inch of my body is on fire by the time we reach our hotel, and I’m shocked I can still stand upright while Lucas escorts me through the lobby. He’d spent every second of the ride back teasing me to the point of a massive orgasm, and the moment I was about to let go, he’d conveniently pulled the car up to the valet. Leading me past the check-in desk, he touches the small of my back, his expression unreadable as someone—obviously one of his fans—takes a photo of us from afar.
“That doesn’t bother you?” I question softly, which causes the corners of his mouth to lift in a smile that makes my heartbeat race.
“What bothers me is the fact your panties are still on.”
God, he knows how to make my throat go dry with just a handful of words. Staring up at him from under my lashes as we enter an elevator that’s currently occupied by another couple, I breathlessly reply, “Honestly, I’m surprised they’re not in your pocket.”
Lucas’ laugh is low and inviting, and I don’t miss how the woman standing in the corner lifts an eyebrow appreciatively at him. I grip his elbow a little tighter; position my body so that I’m partially blocking her view.
“Next time,” he promises.
The other woman releases a little cough, and I press my lips together to hold back the smile threatening to split my face. Finally, the other couple exits the elevator, and as soon as the doors close, Lucas grabs me to him, his large hands cupping my butt through my dress.
“I hate you in clothes,” he complains, resting his forehead to mine. His messy dark hair falls into both our faces, and I can’t resist pushing it back.
“I—” I begin, but the elevator dings, signaling we’ve reached our floor, and his hazel eyes seem to darken in anticipation. “Well, hell, looks like you won’t be hating my clothes much longer.”
Without warning, he picks me up, and I feel lightheaded when his mouth demands my attention, his tongue parting my lips insistently. Warmth pours through me, settling in my core. He pulls away, and it takes me a moment to realize we’re in the entryway of our room.
“I’m impressed, Mr. Wolfe,” I say as he sets me down and shuts the door. “You can carry me, turn me into a wobbly mess with your lips, and open a door all at the same time.”
“I’m fucking talented,” he drawls.
“Cocky bastard.” I start to straighten the hem of my dress, but he stops me. Nudges the silky black fabric a little higher until it’s bunched around my waist.  
“Don’t even waste your time with that.” Cornering me against the door, he reaches behind me, undoing my zipper carefully. My breathing is slow, pleading, and it only intensifies when his fingers splay across the bare skin of my back. In one quick motion, he drops the dress around my feet. Leaning away from me, he tilts his head to the side, his beautiful eyes examining me so carefully that I feel my skin flush under his scrutiny.
“What?” I ask huskily, glancing down at the paisley print carpet.
Grinning, he cups my face. “I’m trying to decide how I want you.”
“How you want me?” I repeat, taking a step forward so that my breasts press up to his fully clothed chest. He nods, and I shake my head. “What about how I want you?”
He sucks in a breath. “Fuck, Red, say that one more time.”
Clearing my throat, I throw my long red strands back and meet his gaze. “What about how I—” I begin, but my words are lost when he grabs my hand and presses it to his cock, which is rock hard in his jeans. Damn. “I swear, I hate clothes just about as much as you do.”
I watch as he sheds every inch of clothing, leaving them in a pile on the floor next to my discarded dress. “Better?” he says with a teasing grin, and I bob my head enthusiastically. “Good.”  He lifts me up again, straddling my legs on either side of him, and I dig my fingers into the tattooed skin of his shoulders when I feel his thick erection against my center.
I breathe out a curse.
And he pushes a little deeper inside me.
“Is this how you want me?” he demands, and when I shake my head, he pulls my hips down slightly. I moan. Tighten around him. “How doyou want me, Red?”
I feel my shoulders touch the door he had me pinned against just a few minutes ago, and I arch against him. “I want you—” Once again, he cuts me off by doing something that’s positively earth-shattering to my body—he rubs my clit with his thumb and forefinger, which makes my legs tremble around him. “Ohhhh.”
“You want me … ohhhh?” he repeats. Finally, he bucks his hips, filling me completely. I grind my teeth. He mocks me, “Fuck, Sienna, you’re so eloquent.”
“Smartass,” I manage to say despite the hum of desire spreading through my body. “I want you everywhere, Lucas. I want every part of you. And I want you to have every part of me.”
Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he takes control of my body, his thrusts rhythmic, hypnotizing, and I am lost in him. When I finally let go—with one of my hands gripping his shoulder and the other pressed against the door behind me—he kisses me long and hard.
His cock is still buried deep within me as he carries me to the bed in the center of our room, and I’m still shaking from the orgasm when he positions me on top of him.

When my lips part to speak, he presses his thumb against them and moves his head to each side. “You asked for everything, Si. That’s what I’ll give you.”
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Published on December 08, 2014 19:21 • 216 views

December 1, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Thirteen

For what seems like hours—instead of thirty seconds, max—I sit with my back uncomfortably straight, staring up at Cilla. With her hands on her hips, and her lips twisted into a smug little grin, I wonder what she’s thinking.  Finally, I narrow my eyes and ask, “I don’t suppose you care that I hate being called Pepper?” I ask.
“Nope.” She steps around our chairs and chooses the seat on the opposite side of Kylie. Lucas’ sister makes a sound of disagreement. “Don’t be a bitch, Kylie,” Cilla says before telling me, “Besides, Sienna, it’s not like the Pepper thing is an insult.”
I start to speak, but Kylie beats me to the punch. “What the hell do you want, Cilla?”
The other brunette twirls a long strand of her ponytail around her finger and bites her bottom lip. At last, she shrugs. “I’m hiding from someone.” When I release a little noise, she looks at me, grinning. I’m struck by the fact there’s no malice in her expression. “Apparently, my … friend doesn’t have as much appeal when the beer goggles come off.”
  “Nice,” I say, my voice a little more sarcastic than I want it to be. I can’t help it—most of my encounters with Cilla have been anything but civil, so it’s always weird to talk to her when she’s not treating me like a piece of lint on her jumpsuit. “So you thought you’d—”
“Red?” I hear Lucas’ voice call my name, and I look to my left to see him tentatively coming toward the pool area. He glances from me to Cilla and then to his sister, thinning his hazel eyes. “Is everything alright?”
Cilla’s eyes are closed when he comes right up on us, but the sound of his footsteps causes her to lift her hand. “Relax, relax. I came in peace.”
“Cilla, there’s not a goddamn part of you that’s peaceful,” he says, and she laughs. I’m not exactly sure he meant that as a compliment, but she’s smiling when she finally opens her eyes and looks at my fiancé.
“I’m avoiding Tyler,” she tells him, and he nods in understanding.
“Now it makes sense.”
Tyler. I let the name rattle around my head for a few seconds, then I face Cilla with a wide stare as soon as I realize she’s talking about Your Toxic Sequel’s tour manager.
Pressing her lips together, she jerks her head to each side. “Kylie, Pepper,” Cilla starts, her voice dangerously low. “If you say one fucking word about it…”
I shoot a surprised look up at Lucas, who looks like he’s second away from laughing. “Ah, Cilla, calm down.” He motions me to him, and I get up from my seat to join him. Cilla’s gaze trails over us, and a flash of jealousy crosses her blue-green eyes before she looks away. Lucas drops his lips to my ear. “Red,  there’s a few people I want you to meet before we have to go.”
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” Kylie wrinkles her nose and then shoots a look toward Cilla. “If she’s bothering you, I swear I can get rid of her.”
Surprisingly, Cilla doesn’t respond, and I wonder if she’s losing her taloned touch. She had no problem chiming in with snarky responses when I tagged along on their tour this summer.
“We have plans,” Lucas says.
“And that would be?” Kylie probes.
“For you to mind your damn business, Ky, and let me worry about my own shit.” Lucas pulls me to his side, his fingers caressing my hip and Kylie rolls her eyes.
“And here I was thinking we’d have a nice family night out.” Letting out a dramatic breath, she starts to get up, prompting Lucas and I to both step forward to help her. She grips the edges of her seat and blows a blue streaked strand of hair from her eyes. “You both realize that I’m not that knocked up, right?”
When Cilla mutters something that sounds like “I can’t tell,” I give Kylie a little smile. “Maybe I just wanted a reason to touch your stomach,” I say as we walk back toward the house and she throws her head back, laughing.
“Touch it anytime you want, but be careful.” She leans forward, glancing around me to give Lucas a meaningful look. “It might be in the water.”
At her mention of me ending up pregnant, I feel my face redden, and even though I’m staring straight ahead, I can see Lucas’ grin out the corner of my eye. Kylie’s words have definitely brought up a good point, though. Lucas and I have never actually sat down to talk about kids in our future, and it’s obviously one of those important subjects that needs to be approached before the “I do’s” are said.
I’m deep in my thoughts for the remainder of our time at the party, but when we’re in the car on the way back to the hotel, I turn to him and immediately blurt what’s on mind.
His grin from earlier returns, and I feel the pit of my stomach clench. Damn, the way he’s looking at me always manages to mess with me. “Hell, yes, I want children with you, Sienna.“ He touches my thigh, strokes his thumb over my smooth skin, causing my breath to catch. “Was there ever a doubt in your mind?”
“No. Yes, I—”
His hand moves a little higher, his fingers hooking under the fabric between my legs, and I squeeze my legs around his wrist. “Do you want a baby with me, Red?”
“Yes.” It comes out almost pleadingly, and I quickly correct myself. “After the wedding, I mean. After—”
Lucas’ knuckle brushes my clit, and I grip either side of the leather seat. “I know what you mean, Sienna,” he says, and I can feel his stare burning into the side of my face. “So in the mean time, I’m going to spend every second I can getting as much of you as possible.”
He strokes my center a little harder, and I bite down on my tongue. “Starting now?” I say at last, sounding like I’m seconds away from floating away.

He chuckles, and I feel the car accelerate, feel his fingers move faster too. “That’s the fucking plan, Red.”
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Published on December 01, 2014 18:00 • 199 views

November 24, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Twelve
“Thank you for bringing me here. And I’m sorry for my mood lately,” I tell Lucas, catching his nearly naked reflection in the mirror that hangs on the back of our hotel door. It’s been two days since the disastrous Thanksgiving dinner, and I’m still apologizing, even as we prepare to head to the holiday party he asked me to go to this morning. The fact that he presented me with plane tickets to Atlanta immediately after I said yes told me he’d been planning to whisk me away from Nashville for at least a week. Not that I’m complaining. I welcome this escape from my mother, from the smug grin that flits across her face whenever she defends her decision to invite my ex to dinner.
I scowl at my reflection.
“Ugh, I need to stop letting my mom screw with me. I mean, I get to see Kylie tonight. And be alone with you later.”
Leaned against the front of the fully stocked minibar, Lucas releases a chuckle and shakes his head, his mess of wet dark hair falling in his beautiful face. As he strides toward me, he shoves his unruly locks back so our eyes lock. He stops once he’s behind me, skimming his hands from my waist to my hips and back up again.
“Don’t bring that woman in here with us,” he whispers, dropping his full lips to my temple. “In fact, if you mention her one more time—” Instead of telling me what he’ll do, he teasingly shows me, giving my ass a little smack that makes me gasp.
I swear, getting spanked shouldn’t feel so good.
“You’re getting me wet,” I manage to say through my breathlessness, and when his thick brows lift and his grin broadens, I quickly correct, “My dress, Mr. Wolfe. Your chest is wet and you’re getting it all over me.”
Giving me an appreciative look, he backs away from me and studies my backside before motioning for me to turn around to face him. I do, and he slowly drinks in the sight of the coral-colored bandage dress. It was another surprise from Lucas today—a designer that I’ve always wanted to wear—and I’m already attached to the sexy little number. “I want to tear it off you. God, the effect you have on me, Red…”
I rest my shoulders against the mirror behind me and shake my head. “If you even think about ripping this dress, I’ll—” But he tugs me to him, his strong hands on either side of my butt and his intense eyes staring down at me. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Fuck, Red, I’ll always look at you like this.” His mouth moves over mine, tasting slowly. An agonizing, sensual dance. When he draws away, his eyes are squeezed closed. Taking my hand in his, he presses his cock against my palm, and my throat goes dry. “We show up, we mingle, and then you’re all mine.”

This is the second time we’ve been to a party in Atlanta—the first was several months ago—but this time instead of a night club, it’s being held at a swanky Buckhead house that Kylie tells me a few seconds after her brother and I arrive belongs to the CEO of the band’s record company. Hooking her arm through mine, she starts to drag me off, giving her brother a death glare when he tries to protest.
“Good god, Luke, you can go without her for five minutes. Go talk to Wyatt or find Cal,” she tells him over her shoulder.
He responds with a dark look that stomps all over the one she’s giving him, but she pulls me around the corner to where she grins at a bartender. I shoot her a worried glance. “Um, Kylie—”
“Oh, relax, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says, rolling her chocolate brown eyes. To the bartender, she sweetly asks, “Can I get a virgin Bloody Mary with a ton of olives?”

After I ask for the same—but with a double shot—I turn to her. “How was Thanksgiving at the happiest place on earth?”
She tilts her face up to look at me, the corners of her eyes crinkling because she’s smiling so hard. “Really, really happy.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to break your face.”
She drops the smile but then laughs in earnest. “Brenna had a good time, so that’s all that matters.” She spends the next couple minutes giving me the rundown on her mini-vacation with Wyatt and her stepdaughter. Once we have our drinks and as we walk to the pool—which seems to be the quietest part of the house—she finally says, “Your mom is on my shitlist.”
“Join the club,” I laugh bitterly. “Your parents probably think we’re all kinds of messed up.” Lucas had already mentioned visiting his parents tomorrow and I’m dreading it.

We sit side-by-side on teak lounge chairs. “Actually, my parents had nothing but good things to say about you. I wouldn’t have known what happened if Lucas hadn’t told me.”
I should feel relief at Kylie’s words, but it doesn’t change the awkward tension that hung over the entire table two nights ago. “He thinks Mom is jealous of me and Gram,” I say quietly.
She pops an olive in her mouth and nods. “Sometimes, he’s right. Believe it or not, this is one of those times I completely agree with him.”
“I just wish that—” But then I catch myself and rake my hands through my hair, probably ruining the loose red curls I worked hard to perfect tonight. “Not even an hour ago I promised Lucas I’d stop talking about that woman, and yet here I am—”
“Kylie Wolfe,” a voice calls out, interrupting me, and I bite the tip of my tongue at the instant recognition. Kylie and I both look up to see Cilla Craig coming our way. Like always, she looks beautiful with her black hair swept up in a high ponytail and her curves poured into a sexy black jumpsuit. I try to forget she and Lucas were briefly involved. Stopping right in front of us, she puts her hands on her hips and sweeps her blue-green eyes over me. “Didn’t realize you were coming, Pepper.”

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Published on November 24, 2014 18:48 • 251 views