Emily Snow's Blog

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.
Good.
“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.” 
 •  flag
1 comment
4 likes · like  • 
Published on December 16, 2014 20:26 • 120 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.”
 •  flag
1 comment
4 likes · like  • 
Published on December 08, 2014 19:21 • 149 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.”
 •  flag
0 comments
1 like · like  • 
Published on December 01, 2014 18:00 • 141 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.”
















































 •  flag
2 comments
3 likes · like  • 
Published on November 24, 2014 18:48 • 182 views

November 19, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Eleven

There’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as Preston and I stare back at each other. He was my first love—hell, my first lover—and up until thirty seconds ago, I never thought I’d see him again. Sure, he was from Nashville too. But it’s a big city. None of our friends are the same.
And yet, my mother had managed to conveniently run into him at the store. As if on cue, a smile splits his face, and he takes a step closer toward the kitchen. “Sienna. You look just like—”
I shove past my brother, holding up my hand. “What are you doing here?” I cast an anxious glance at the family room entry, and I’m thankful the volume of the football game is turned on high. “We agreed never to see each other again.”
He runs his hand sheepishly over his short black hair and shrugs, his expression giving me a clear view of his dimples. When I was in high school, that look had been my downfall, and I had been eager to please him. Now, I don’t feel a thing other than irritation as I stand beneath the bright lights of the foyer, jabbing my tongue in my cheek.  “Preston?”
“I’ve been talking to your mom lately and she brought up Thanksgiving. When she asked me what I was doing, I thought about all the good times we used to have together. Remember that Thanksgiving in New York?” When I nod lamely, he continues, “It made me think. What if I hadn’t been such a dick in the end, if maybe—”
“You know I’m engaged, right?” When he nods slowly, I carve my fingers through my red hair then wring my hands together. “You didn’t think my fiancé might be around?”
“Your mom said he was in Atlanta.”
Of course she did.
“My mom lied,” I snap. Then a thought hits me, and I cross my arms over my chest and release an outraged breath. “And even if he hadn’t been here, that wouldn’t make me—”
“Lucas Wolfe is here now?” Preston looks impressed, and I roll my eyes. “Damn, Sienna. You were always good,but for you to—”
“You might want to cut yourself off right there before I have to break your fucking teeth.”
Preston and I whip around at the same time to see Lucas leaning against the doorframe with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. I’m not fooled by the sardonic smile twisting his lips. This situation is not amusing to him whatsoever. His eyes are hard, and as he moves his gaze from Preston to me, I clear my throat.
“Lucas Wolfe, this is Preston Lewis.”
Preston,” Lucas repeats, each syllable drawn out.
“My mom invited him to join us for Thanksgiving dinner,” I add through clenched teeth. I shoot a glare at the kitchen. God knows what Mom is in the kitchen telling Shannon Wolfe at this very moment. “Preston and I … we dated briefly.”
“If briefly means all through high school and college,” Preston says, leaning forward to shake Lucas’ hand. Lucas stares at it for a moment before pushing away from the doorway to come stand behind me. His hand on my hip is comforting, but I’m still shaking. How could my mom do this to me?  I was seconds from thinking she’d let this day happen without any bull and then she had to go shit all over it before we could even get started.
The only thing that could make this worse is if one of Lucas’ one-night stands—or worse, Cilla Craig—showed up.
Shuddering, I tune back into the conversation just in time to hear Lucas telling Preston. “Whether you stay or not, Sienna’s mine. That shit ain’t changing. “
“Maybe, but just remember—”
“Preston Lewis! What a surprise to see you here,” Gram speaks up.
This time, I’m thankful for my grandmother’s intrusion, because I can already guess the next words to come from Preston’s mouth.
Just remember I banged her first.
And that is the last thing Lucas needs to hear with his parents in my house.
I shoot Gram an appreciative smile, noticing as her own blue eyes narrow at my ex-boyfriend. When she flicks a questioning stare at me, I mouth, “Rebecca.”
Gram’s lips thin into a disapproving line. And then, because she doesn’t have it in her to be rude to anyone, she smiles at Preston. “Come on, we better go to the dining room.” Turning to look over her shoulder, she teases Lucas’ dad, “Danny, might as well have some food to get ready for that loss.”
My grandmother and ex disappear into the dining room with Mr. Wolfe following a few seconds behind them. He’s grinning broadly and shaking his head. “Your grandma is—” He freezes and looks between Lucas and me, his brows tugging together. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s fine,” Lucas promises, but his smile is tight. “Give us a few?”
Mr. Wolfe nods, and once he’s out of sight, out of earshot, I let my shoulders sag and slowly turn toward him. I stare down at the floor, squeezing my eyes together to stop the tears burning the corners. “Whenever I think she’s not going to do something else crazy, she pulls something like this. Why in the world would she ask him here? And why would he even come?”
“Oh, Red.” Lucas releases a breath, and I feel his strong hands on my shoulders. “Look at me.” When I don’t, he kisses me hard, not pulling away until I’m breathless. “If you could only see yourself the way I do you’d know why she likes to fuck with you, why he was dumb enough to bring his ass here, knowing that you’re with me.”
“What reason would that be?” I murmur.
Lucas strokes his fingers over my shoulder before cupping the back of my neck. With his other hand, he feathers his thumb across my cheek. “You shine, Red. People do crazy things simply to be around you. I know—I’m one of them. Your grandmother loves you and that threatens Rebecca. You’re with me, and that dumb shit Parker—”
“Preston,” I correct, laughing and he kisses me again.
Preston he’s threatened by the thought of you being with someone else. And you’re with me, Sienna. There’s no fucking way I’m letting you go ‘cause of a little prick like that.” Drawing away from me, Lucas skims his fingers down my arm and takes my hand. He starts to tug me toward the dining room, but I shake my head.
“You’re wrong, you know?”
“About what?”
“Preston. It’s been years since we were together.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh—a sound that breaks through the panic still settled in my chest. “Damn, Red. Haven’t you figured out by now that you’re worth fighting for?”
 •  flag
0 comments
6 likes · like  • 
Published on November 19, 2014 18:40 • 161 views

November 16, 2014


Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Ten

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I let Lucas know as soon as I open the door to see him. It’s been three days since my mother promised to behave herself in front of his parents, and I’ve spent all seventy-two hours worrying about whether she’d follow through and give me one night of peace. I glance behind Lucas toward his black Audi, but his parents aren’t in it.
“They’re driving from their hotel.” He tucks his finger under my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Breathe, Red.” With his other hand, he splays his fingers over the small of my back, jerking me to him. “You smell good—like cranberries. Bet you taste just as good. Makes me want to—”
“Is that Lucas?” Gram’s voice interrupts from the steps behind me. Reluctantly, he drops his hand from my back, his knuckles innocently grazing my ass in the process. Tucking a red strand neatly behind my ear, I face Gram with fiery cheeks. Lucas, on the other hand, casts a ridiculously charming grin at her. She leans against the banister for support and tugs her lips into a tiny smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Lucas.”
“You too, Mrs. Previn,” he responds in a professional voice that completely belies whatever sexiness he was about to say to me. And I want to hear whatever that was. He’s been out of town so much recently my body is already going crazy with anticipation.
“Your mother and father are still coming for dinner, aren’t they?” Gram walks down the last couple steps, waving me away when I try to help her. “Sienna’s been cooking since the sun came up.”
Lucas stares down at me, one of his thick dark brows lifted in mock surprise. “You cooked, Red?”
I roll my eyes. His reaction is similar to the one I received from my younger brother an hour ago. “I swear if one more person looks at me like that—” Lucas laughs, and I cross my arms over my chest. “You should be thankful my mother’s not the one cooking.”
Gram winks at me, giving me a pat on the arm as she passes. “I know it’s going to be wonderful, sweetheart.” She disappears in the living room where Seth is watching the football game with my mother—who claims to know what’s going on, even though I can’t remember her watching football ever. Just when I think we’re in the clear, Gram calls back, “By the way, Lucas, you smell good—like cologne.”
I automatically clench my teeth, but he doesn’t seem the least bit phased because he draws me close to him again. “You’re doing that teeth thing again. You know it drives me abso-fucking-lutely crazy,” he says in a rough, low voice that makes my skin warm.
“Um, because my grandmother just pointed out she heard what you were saying to me,” I argue, immediately releasing a sigh a couple seconds later when his lips cover mine. Of course, the moment I mold against him, the knock at the door breaks us apart.
“That must be your parents.” I trace my fingertip around the outline of my lips to fix my gloss and wipe the shimmery pink color from Lucas’ mouth with my other hand. When I’m finished, I hold my arms out and look down at my black skater dress. “How do I look?”
“After dinner tonight, after my parents have gone back to their hotel and I’ve got you back where I’m staying, I’m going to peel that little dress off you.” His hazel eyes seem to darken while he skims his gaze over the length of my body. “But to answer your question, you look beautiful.”
A hot tingle wiggles through me, but I reach past him to open the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t say you were gonna do it with your teeth,” I tease, peeking up at him.
He gives my waist a gentle squeeze and bends so that his mouth touches my ear. “I figured that was implied.”
I’m still struggling to catch my breath when I let his parents in and when we exchange hugs. I’d met them before—back in February when we went to Atlanta—but this time is different, and his mother makes sure she lets me know when she throws her arms around me.
“I never thought he’d settle down, but I’m so happy it’s with a good girl,” she whispers fiercely in my ear. She kisses my cheek, and her brown eyes—eyes just like Kylie’s—are dancing when she leans away from me. “I’m sure my daughter has already inundated you with planning questions—”
“Not too much.” I try not to cringe at the thought of Kylie’s constant Facebook check-ins. For some one who eloped in lieu of a big ass wedding, she’s scary obsessed with wedding plans. When I see Lucas and his dad slipping into the family room, I give his mom an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to take the turkey out, and—”
She quickly nods in understanding. “I’ll help.”
Having Shannon Wolfe—who insists I call her Shan—in the kitchen is awkward at first, but she quickly puts me at ease by telling me about the Thanksgiving where Lucas and Sinjin managed to ruin the contents of the spare fridge (food meant for turkey day) when they unplugged it.
“All to plug in an amp in the garage?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.
“And I didn’t find out about it until the very last minute. You should have seen me—”
My mother’s voice interrupts Shannon, and both our gazes whip toward the kitchen entrance as Mom marches into the room with a cranberry and vodka tipped to her lips. “You should’ve told me you needed help, baby girl.”
“Didn’t want to interrupt the football game.” I smile at her, and I’m sure it looks pleading because she responds with a smug little grin. “Mom, this is Lucas’ mom Shannon. Shannon, my mother, Rebecca.”
“We’ve met already,” Mom says as she sits at the table with Shannon. Then she shrugs and laughs. “Well, we’ve sent each other letters.”
Gee, thanks for the reminder that you went behind my back and sent mail to Lucas’ parents.
I hold my breath as they exchange pleasantries. Keeping a cautious eye on them, I put the finishing touches on dinner, but thankfully Mom is shockingly nice today. I almost think my first real holiday with my mother in forever won’t be an absolute clusterfuck, but then my brother pokes his head in the kitchen.
“Did you invite a guest to dinner, Rebecca?”
Mom looks up from her conversation with Shannon and blinks a few times. “Is he here?”
Seth tilts his head to the side in disbelief before finally shaking it. “You’re a piece of work. You know that, don’t you?”
Frowning in confusion, I toss the oven mitts on the counter and edge closer to my brother. “Seth, what’s—”
But I stop short in my tracks when I spot a familiar face—a face I haven’t seen in years—standing in my grandmother’s foyer.
Preston.
The ex-boyfriend from hell.
What. The. Fuck?
“Are you kidding?” I blurt out.
“Relax,” Mom speaks up from the table. “We ran into each other at the grocery store and when he told me his mother passed away a year ago, I invited him here. Everyone wants to be around familiar faces for the holidays.”
If anyone else had said that, I’d believe they hadn’t intended to be a bitch. Mom, on the other hand…

Slowly, I turn to look at her, digging my nails into my palms. “Didn’t really think the familiar face rule applied to ex-girlfriends and her future in-laws, but thanks for looking out, Mom.”


 •  flag
1 comment
4 likes · like  • 
Published on November 16, 2014 18:27 • 93 views

November 14, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Nine

“I swear, I’m really fine to open my own door,” my grandmother protests a few days later. I give her my closest version of a stern look, which only makes her laugh. She perfected that expression long before she used it to scare me as a kid, and I’m sure I look anything but scary. “I’m too old to be babied, Sienna.” But she takes my hand, allowing me to help her out the car.
“Dr. Murphy says you need to take it easy, so you’re going to take it easy,” I say. To appease me, she supports herself against the side of the vehicle while I grab her bag from the trunk. “And that means no housework or cooking—at least not until your follow-up visit.”
When she starts to argue, I shake my head from side to side, the wind whipping a few loose red strands into my face. I tuck them behind my ear and then hoist Gram’s bag on my shoulder. “Look, I know Thanksgiving is coming up, but I promise I’m perfectly capable of cooking for you this year. There’s no way—” My words are cut short by the front door flinging open. My brother greets us, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling as he grins down at our grandmother.
“Hey gorgeous.”
Gram rolls her blue eyes. “You look like you’re up to no good,” she teases as he helps her up the steps, across the porch and into the foyer.
“Aw Gram, that’s bull—” He quickly corrects himself when she pops him in the back of the head and has the good sense to look sheepish. “Here, let me take your coat.”
She shoos him off, and once she removes her own coat, she disappears into the family room. Casting one final look at the driveway to see the only cars here are Gram’s old Mercedes and my own vehicle, I close the heavy wooden door with my heel and arch my brow. “Um … where’s your truck?”
Across from me, Seth eases down on the bottom step and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He scratches his blond head. “Rebecca.”
My hands freeze mid-button, and my gaze whips up to stare at my brother. “She stole your fucking car?!” My mom has had very little to say to me since the incident at the hospital, but damn, I wouldn’t have guessed her next move would be to take off with Seth’s truck. Shaking my head incredulously, I yank my phone out my pocket. “Have you already called—”
“Sienna,” Seth interrupts. When I look up from my dialing screen, his serious expression falls. I feel my own face light up as his turns red with laughter. Once he’s done snorting, he clears his throat. “Si … she didn’t steal anything.”
“Then she….”
“Borrowed it to go to a job interview. When I came here to meet you to go pick up Gram, you were already gone and she was just rolling out of bed. She felt uncomfortable just taking Gram’s car without asking, so she asked to borrow mine.”
“A job interview?” I finish shrugging out of my coat and hang it next to my grandmother’s on the rack. “Wow. I’m surprised you trusted her with your precious baby.”
Seth lifts his shoulders, though from the way his lips curl, I can tell he’s already mentally preparing for our mother to do something awful to his vehicle. It wouldn’t be the first time, and I try not to think of my little Honda she’d totaled when I was sixteen. My lips part to comment, but my brother holds up a hand, stopping me.
“And before you start bitching, I figured it was better to let her use it. She gets a job, she won’t be a burden on Gram.” He nods toward the living room, where I can hear one of Gram’s mid-day TV programs playing, dropping his volume when he says, “She doesn’t need Rebecca’s shit.”
“True.” I sit beside him on the steps and stretch my long legs out in front of me. “Very, very true.”
“You still plan to bring Douchebag and company to Thanksgiving dinner?”
I release an irritated sigh. “Really, Seth? Douchebag and company? What are you, ten?”
“Really. Yes. And my adolescent bullshittery comes and goes. So … are they coming or not.”
Before Lucas had left for Atlanta two nights ago, he’d visited my grandmother in the hospital and promised to be back for Thanksgiving, which is in a couple days. Since Kylie and Wyatt are vacationing in Disney World with his kid for Turkey Day this year, Lucas promised Gram he would bring his parents along. Which terrifies me. There’s a part of me that’s positive my mom has been so quiet because she’s preparing for an epic showdown right in front of Lucas’ parents.
God, I hope that part of me is just paranoid.
“They’ll be here,” I reply, my voice strained.
Gram calls for Seth from the family room, and he pushes himself to his feet. He shoves his hands in the front pockets of his cargo pants and shuffles his feet. “Not trying to tell you what to do, but you should probably have a talk with Rebecca and lay down some ground rules.”
“Oh, don’t worry. She’s going to hear me whether she likes it or not.”
And sure enough, after Mom returns and Seth leaves—after dinner and Gram goes to her room for the evening—when I confront my mom outside while she’s doing her nightly chain-smoking ritual, she spins toward me, sneering.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She flicks her cigarette butt somewhere in Gram’s perfectly landscaped walkway. “And how exactly do you want me to behave for the prestigious Wolfe family.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I cross my arms over my chest. “Respectful.”
“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” She pulls her hair into an elastic tie before lighting another cigarette. My eyes follow her fidgety movements as she paces from one end of the porch to the other and then back again. “I’m not gonna kiss ass just because you’re marrying some rich man,” she snaps.
Ugh. As I process her words, I can feel a headache start to form between my eyes. Of course my mother wouldn’t care that Lucas came from the same sort of background she did—middle class with loving parents. She’s more concerned with finding something offensive with the fact I’m asking her not to show her ass in front of his parents.
“You don’t have to kiss ass,” I say calmly, and my mom rolls her green eyes and turns her back to me again, gazing out in the darkness. “I just want it to go over well. This is their firsttime meeting Gram—meeting you—and I want everyone to get along. I want this to be a good Thanksgiving for Gram. She’s been through a lot this year.”
Like the heart trouble and the fact she nearly lost her house at the beginning of the year after getting into a financial mess from helping you. 
“Gram’s getting old, Mom,” I add softly, and I watch as her spine straightens. We’re quiet for a long stretch of time, until finally, her head bobs up and down.
“A good Thanksgiving for Momma.” She sends another cigarette butt sailing toward the walkway. I make a mental note to clean them up in the morning. When she stalks into the house, leaving behind a heavy menthol scent, she mutters, “But I’m still not kissing anybody’s ass.”
“Never expected you too,” I say a moment too late because the door is already slammed shut behind her. Then, exhaling, I pluck my phone from the outdoor table and head into the house.

(Note: Although this novella was initially supposed to be 10 parts it will be several chapters longer. Part 10 to be released Sunday night.)

 •  flag
0 comments
3 likes · like  • 
Published on November 14, 2014 19:07 • 157 views

November 11, 2014

Completed: a Devoured NovellaChapter Eight

I’m numb as I throw on the first clothes I find—one of Lucas’ band tees and my wrinkled jeans from earlier—all the while trying desperately to get in touch with my brother. By the time I’ve dialed Seth for the seventh time, and he doesn’t pick up, I’m fully dressed. My vision blurs as I slam my phone in my bag and I grab my car keys from the basket in the foyer.
“Dammit!” I cry, dragging my hand through my damp hair. “He won’t pick up, he won’t—. How can he send me a text like that and not answer?”
“He might be with your grandma.” Lucas plucks my keys from my hand, and when I try to grab them from him, he shakes his head. For the first time since seeing the text message, I realize he’s gotten dressed—it’s his usual attire of jeans, a dark Henley, and Converse. “There’s no fucking way in hell I’m letting you drive anywhere like this.”
My heart is in my throat—a painful, nauseating lump—as I stumble beside Lucas to his car, and the only thing I can ask myself is what if?
What if Seth isn’t picking up because Gram’s situation has worsened?
What if I had checked my phone sooner?
What if—and this is the one that makes my chest twist into awful knots—what if Gram is gone?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake that thought out of my head, refusing to even let myself think that. Out of everyone I’ve ever known, Gram has always been the one in my corner. Whenever my mom went AWOL when I was a kid, it was Gram—not my father—who came to the rescue. Gram who put me in dance lessons (I was shitty at it) and enrolled me in piano.
It was my grandmother who had always consoled me. Who’d wiped away my tears—from my mom, my very first heartbreak, to Lucas, my most recent—though I like to forget about the months he and I spent apart. I press my hand to my chest, attempting to reassure myself that everything is fine.
In the darkness, Lucas’ hand finds my knee and he squeezes it. He doesn’t say anything, but when he slams on the brakes at a stoplight and looks over in my direction, he doesn’t have to. He wants to reassure me that everything will be fine.
I nod in understanding, bobbing my head a little too quickly.
There are a million thoughts racing through my head when we finally reach the hospital, and I jump out of the Audi before Lucas can fully put it in park. I find Seth quickly—in a waiting room with my mother, of all people—and when he sees me, his shoulders sag in relief.
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with—” I start, but my baby brother jerks me to him and hugs me.
“She’s gonna be fine. Just a scare, Si.”
I almost crumble in relief, but that’s short lived when my mom speaks up, “Luckily, that’s all it was.”
I lean back from Seth, just in time to see my mother’s green gaze slip to Lucas as he walks into the waiting room. Mom lifts a light eyebrow, and even though I can tell she’s been crying, her next words leave me livid. “Guess you were too busy with thatto care about getting here any sooner for Momma.”
For as long as I can remember, I’ve made fun of those talk shows. The ones where trashy families go at each other on TV.  But the moment I completely break away from my brother, shoving my mom into the nearest seat, I feel empowered.

I bend over her, one arm on either side of the chair, and I glare down at her. “If you ever say anything about how I feel about Gram—or how much I care about her—again, I’ll be the one teaching you a thing or two. And I don’t care what you think you learned in prison.”
 •  flag
1 comment
3 likes · like  • 
Published on November 11, 2014 18:19 • 130 views
Warning: The following scene contains adult content.



















Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Seven

“Fuck, I’ve thought of you all day,” he murmurs, dropping his strong hands from my face. Watching his naked body closely, I hold my breath as he joins me in the bathtub. Even though it’s one of those giant, luxury tubs, Lucas is so tall I’m almost afraid it won’t work. Somehow, after a little maneuvering and splashing, not only are we both inside, he’s pulled me on top of him.
I tighten my legs around either side of him and close my eyes. “We’re going to flood the floor,” I warn with a small smile, shivering a moment later when he settles me against his chest and traces his full lips along my collarbone. I hear more water splash onto the tile, and I grip Lucas’ broad shoulders. “Mr. Wolfe, we are seriously going to—”
“That mouth of yours,” he groans against my slick skin as he covers my lips with his thumb. He takes advantage of my temporary silence and uses his mouth and tongue to make a deliciously hot path from the column of my throat to my breasts. For every moan that slips past my lips, he strokes his finger over my mouth, circles the tip of his tongue over my skin.
And damn, does this man have a talented tongue.
If you ask me, it’s right up there with his singing.
When he laughs softly, I slowly open my eyes, meeting his hazel gaze. He’s looking at me appreciatively—a look that makes me forget how many women want him because it’s obvious he’s exactly where he wants to be. He moves his hand from my mouth, winding his fingers gently in the hair at the nape of my neck, and electricity bursts down my spine.
“Hell, I haven’t even gotten to the good part, and you’re trembling.”
I shift my hips against him, feeling a wave of smug satisfaction at the way his body goes completely taut. “Next time,” I start teasingly, reaching between us to guide him to me. “Make sure you’re not going to have a similar reaction before you talk crap.”
But when he jerks my hips down, and I feel every inch of him inside my body, I gasp and shiver again. A cocky grin splits his face. “I can talk all the shit I want, Red. If you’re trembling now, I can’t wait to see what you’ll do once I get you in my bed.”
I process his words as he rocks my body against his, and release a little noise from the back of my throat as his calloused fingers squeeze my breast. Flames consume my body, and I know that I must be red all over. With our bodies intertwined, and the sound of the water splashing around us, I don’t care what I look like. I only care about him. This moment. Whatever is to come.
A few feet away, I hear my phone vibrating, but I ignore it, focusing instead on Lucas’ hands on my body—one cupping my breast and the other on my hip, guiding our bodies together in a beautifully sensual rhythm that steals my breath and my ability to think clearly away.
My hands are shaking when I bring them to his face. He smiles at me again, but this time, the cockiness has been replaced with a softness that leaves me dizzy. “I love you,” I tell him, racing my hands through his thick dark hair. “I love you so much.”
Slowing the tempo of our bodies, he murmurs his agreement before his lips cover mine. One of my friends had told me that after awhile the fireworks would stop. That I wouldn’t feel that tightness in my chest or the pull in my stomach when we touch or when our tongues meet, but I know they’re wrong.
They have to be.
I don’t think this feeling will ever stop.
“Sienna.” His rough voice breaks through my thoughts, and my body jolts when I feel his long fingers between us, and his thumb grinding a slow, agonizing—incredible—circle around my swollen flesh. “You were gritting your teeth.”
He hates it when I do that, but right now it’s pretty damn impossible not to. Already, I can feel the orgasm building, curling my toes, and I know I won’t be able to hold on for much longer. Not with his fingers being where they are or the way our bodies are crashing together.
“I was gritting my teeth and this is my punishment?” I manage to get out between the strokes and pumps. When he nods, I drop my forehead against his muscular shoulder. He doesn’t immediately respond but a moment later, at the sound of my teeth grinding again, he picks up speed.
The orgasm hits me fast and hard, and I’m still breathing heavily and holding on to him when he lets go, his body stiffening against mine as he pumps into me once, twice more. We stay quiet for a long time, until he gives my ass a little smack. Finally, he says, “I think we flooded the fucking bathroom.”
Sighing, I lean away from him. “Told you so.”
He’s laughing as I get out the tub and drop a couple of towels on the mess we made. As I wrap myself in a plush towel and use my feet to push around the linens on the wet floor, he watches me with a wide grin. “I would’ve cleaned that up.”
“Uh huh,” I say, shifting my eyebrow as I check my phone. “Seth called.”
“Maybe he’s not avoiding you.”
“Maybe, or maybe—” But my words catch in my throat as I see the text message Seth left for me. It’s short and to the point, but it’s still enough to make my blood run cold.
Gram is at Vandy. Chest pains. Call ASAP.
 •  flag
0 comments
5 likes · like  • 
Published on November 11, 2014 18:13 • 123 views

November 9, 2014

Completed: a Devoured novellaChapter Six

 Like a sullen teenager, my mom gives my grandmother and I the silent treatment for the next couple days. Even though I spend the majority of my time staying with Lucas, it still frustrates the hell out of me. I can understand why she’d be an asshole toward me—at this point in my life I’m used to it—but for her to treat Gram badly simply for not following her out to the parking lot … well, it turns the bad taste in my mouth from sour to rancid.
It’s making Gram miserable, which automatically brings out the protective tigress in me.
So when YTS comes into Nashville to work on recording, and Kylie tags along with Wyatt, I practically launch myself at her when she shows up to Lucas’ producers house to grab me for lunch.
“See,” Kylie laughs, waggling her dark eyebrows when she pulls away from me. “Told Lucas you were madly in love with me and my sexy hair.” To draw my attention to it, she fluffs her short, newly highlighted hair. A couple months ago she’d uncharacteristically returned the blue and black strands to her natural brown. She must have gotten bored with it because the blue is back—more vibrant than before.
“You know it, didn’t we agree that I’d eventually have your blue-haired love child?” I tease as I grab my coat from the chaise in the foyer. Buttoning it quickly, I flash Kylie a sincere smile. “But seriously, I adore your hair. Are you ready?”
Kylie insists on driving—I’m not surprised her rental is a giant SUV—and as she follows the directions the GPS calls out, she sighs. “You’re distant, babe, and I’m not too sure that’s good for our relationship.” At the sight of the grin that tugs the corners of my mouth, she continues, “Is this about your mother?”
“Lucas told you?”
She snorts. “I had to harass him big time for information. I swear I’m losing my touch.” She grins in my direction, probably to lighten my mood. “Must’ve been the plain hair.”
I can’t help but laugh, but when I’m done, I give Kylie a serious look. “I don’t know what she wants. And that scares me.”
“Do you think she wants money?”
I lift my shoulders. “If she does, she hasn’t asked me for anything and Gram has no money to give her. Trust me, I’ve already asked Lucas a million questions to make sure my mom isn’t trying to get something out of him.”
“He wouldn’t do it.” Kylie’s voice sounds so confident, I’m almost positive she’s already asked her brother if my mom has demanded money from him. “So if she doesn’t want money, maybe she just wants to be a part of your lives again? I know that sounds lame, but it’s a possibility, right?”
If that’s Mom’s intention, she’s doing a hell of a job, but I simply tell Kylie, “Maybe.”
Twisting her lips to the side, she drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “What’s Seth think of all this?”
Ugh. At her mention of my younger brother, my muscles tighten. “Seth is happy to pretend like she’s still in prison. He wants nothing to do with her. Part of me wants to be all sorts of pissed he’s leaving Gram and me to handle my mom. And the other part—the other part knows that everything he feels is completely justified.”
Kylie mutters a curse as a diesel truck cuts in front of us on the interstate. She gives me a sheepish smile, rambles off an explanation that the baby is turning her into an aggressive driver, and then says, “I agree that what he feels is justified, but—and I hate to say this—he needs to suck it up. Then, you both need to confront your mom. Your grandma is one awesome lady, and after everything I’ve heard about your mother, I’d hate to see her get hurt.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Pulling into the parking lot of the cheesecake restaurant she swore her unborn child was absolutely craving, Kylie turns to me. I can see her encouraging smile in my peripheral vision as I send my brother a text asking him to call me. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this later. Your brother will come through.”
*
But much later, after I’m back at Lucas’ producer’s house and Kylie is long gone, I’m definitely not feeling like Seth will do anything but continue his strike when he responds that he’s too busy to talk. My brother has always been a slacker and he’ll use any excuse to get away from schoolwork, so his excuse is a load of shit I don’t feel like dealing with on top of everything else.
“Baby brother,” I say under my breath, drying my hands on the towel hanging beside the tub. Lifting my phone, I settle back in the bubbles and type out, I understand. Let me know about Thanksgiving? I return my phone to its spot on the wicker side table and squeeze my eyes shut. “Looks like I’ll just have to come see you.”
Because apparently, Seth has forgotten that we live in the same city and seeing him face-to-face is only a drive away.
“You’re talking to yourself now, Red.”
I open my eyes slowly to see Lucas in the bathroom doorway, grinning at the sight of me covered in bubbles. I didn’t even hear him come in, but he’s obviously been here for a bit. At least long enough to strip down to his underwear. Like I’ve done so many times before, I let my eyes crawl over the wonderland that’s Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe’s body—over the tribal and star tattoos, the golden muscular skin—and the pit of my stomach tightens with need.
Holy hell.
I sit up slowly and bring my knees to my chest, feeling my skin warm when his hazel eyes darken as they trace my slightest movement. “I’m saying what I’d say to my brother if he were actually on the phone.”
“And I’m guessing you’ll be going to see him?” He crosses the bathroom, each step he takes making my heart slam into my chest. Reaching the tub, he leans over me, cupping my face in his hands. I moan as his fingers tangle into my red hair. “No calling him tonight?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Good,” he states in a rough voice. “I’d planned on coming home and telling you to get naked, but since you’re already here—”
My hands are on him, tugging the rest of his clothing off, before he can finish the sentence, and when he growls something about me paying him back for all my panties he’s damaged, I laugh.

“Welcome home, Lucas.”
 •  flag
1 comment
5 likes · like  • 
Published on November 09, 2014 17:53 • 142 views