Tia Louise's Blog: ONE TO BLOG - Posts Tagged "second-chance"

EXCERPT
MAKE YOU MINE
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Gray

“I dreamed about you every night.” My confession makes her smile.

It’s the truth. It’s the only truth I know—if she’s in danger, I’ll carry her out. If she’s crying, I hold her until she stops. If she wants me… I can’t tell her no.

It’s been that way since she was just a cute little kid. It’s been this way since last summer when everything changed. I tried to fight it. She was only seventeen. I was almost twenty-one… Her daddy would’ve shot me dead and buried my body.

I tried to date… One time. It was a fucking disaster. I could only see her, taste her, want her. Only Drew gets me this way.

At night, I’d lie in bed and remember the first time we were together. Two triangles of white fabric covered her small breasts. I could see the curves at the bottoms and sides. They were perfect handfuls, high and pointed.

She looked at me as if she knew what she was doing to me in that white bikini. I’m sure I looked like an awestruck fool.

Then she blinked and tucked her chin into her shoulder, taunting me. Her hair swished down her back, ending at her slim waist. Her flat stomach led to round hips, long, silky legs. Her toenails were painted bright white, and I wanted to put them in my mouth. I’ve never wanted to do that.

I’ve never wanted to devour someone before.

My dick was so hard.

“I dreamed of you touching me.” Her voice drips with desire, and just like that, I have a steel rod in my pants. “Will you touch me now?”

“Drew…” I should tell her no.

Being here with her is dangerous.

If Danny found out… He’d say what I know. I’m too old for her. She’s too young. I should give her a chance to grow up. On top of that, I have nothing, no name, no status. I’m an orphan raised by a nobody.

I’m working to change it, but I haven’t yet.

She takes my hand and places it on the top of her thigh, at the hem of her red dress. “Touch me here,” she whispers, leaning into my ear.

She owns me in this moment, and she knows it.

She knows holding her is the greatest feeling in the world. It’s like coming home.

Her hand guides mine higher, sliding up the smooth skin of her leg. I feel her body tremble, and when my fingers touch the soft folds of her sex, I almost come in my pants. She’s not wearing underwear.

“Drew.” My voice is a hungry noise, the growl of a starving man.

“Yes,” she sighs. “Touch me, Gray.”

Her nails cut into my shoulders as I trace my fingers along the damp slit, teasing the tiny strip of curls, dipping the tip of one finger into her tight, clenching core. One more, and she moans. She’s so wet. I want to taste her.

“Gray…” Her hands go to my waist, pulling at the button on my jeans. She has my pants undone, and my erection is pointing right at her.

“Hang on.” I stand, fishing out my wallet, finding a condom.

I turn to the side to roll it on my aching dick.

As much as I dream of her carrying my baby, I know neither one of us is ready for that responsibility. Hell, I’m leaving for fucking Africa in less than two days. How I’ll survive four years without her, I don’t have a fucking clue, but I won’t do what they say I will. I won’t “ruin her” and run off.

My hands are on her again, lifting her by the ass and carrying her so her back is against the wall. Her mouth is on my neck, her soft tongue touching my hot skin as she kisses her way higher. I’m about to explode.

“I need you inside me.” Her lips graze my ear before she kisses it, and I don’t hesitate.

Lowering her onto my dick, my knees almost give out. My mind tilts at the sensation of her hot, tight, and clenching around my shaft. I have to hold still or I’ll come. Her thighs tense around my waist, and she struggles to move, letting out a low moan.

“Gray…” I feel her tremble, her muscles spasm, and my brow tightens.

I raise my head to find her eyes. “Did you come?”

Her nose curls, and she stretches up and down on me. “I came when you touched me.” She grips my shoulders, pulling up to kiss me. “Do it hard—the way you like it. I want to feel you. I want to remember you were here.”

Jesus. My eyes close, and I lower my mouth to hers. Her lips part, and our tongues curl together. I start to move, a deep thrust, and there’s no turning back.

“Drew…” It’s a ragged groan, and her body breaks again.

I’m relentless, driven by a need that never lets me go. Her small breasts bounce against my chest with every hard thrust. She moans, and her back arches, more clenching around my dick, pulling me further in.

“Oh,” she gasps, and I brace myself.

This is better than any drug. She’s my crack cocaine.

My hands grip her hips, pulling us together again and again, until I break, pressing her to the wall, filling that condom with every pulse, the way I dream of filling her, of putting my baby into her, of having all the things I want with her, a home, a family.

I’m breathing hard. My eyes are closed, and her fingers trace my neck, thread into my hair. She kisses my jaw, my cheek. The sensations consume me, overpower me. I hold onto her as I fumble my way back to Earth. I got lost in heaven.

Mine… Mine… The word echoes in my ears on every heartbeat. What will it take to make her mine?

* * *

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EXCERPT
MAKE YOU MINE
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Drew

This is a bad idea. I shouldn’t be here alone with him. I need to go to the lake house and go to bed.

Gray shrugs. “I also wanted to be sure Ralph didn’t get too… handsy.”

“I met Ralph tonight because we can’t be together anymore. You’re no good for me. Remember?” The words are like acid on my tongue, but they’re his words. He needs to hear them again and decide if they’re true.

His brow tightens, and he looks down. “I remember.”

A drop of rain hits my cheek, and I wipe it away angrily. “How dare you come back here, acting like there’s nothing between us, then get jealous because I’m on a date?”

“I don’t like you putting yourself in danger.”

I’ve had enough. “I’m not doing this,” I say, pushing past him. “I’m leaving.”

He catches my arm. “Not yet.”

“Stop it.” I’m losing my fight against the tears. “You left me. I was right here, and you left like you forgot all about us.”

He moves in closer, heat in his tone. “I remember every detail of us.”

“Prove it.”

Fire is in his eyes, those stormy eyes I love, but he’s still holding back, fighting me. I’m out of patience.

Raindrops fall faster on my arms. “It’s starting to rain.”

A flash of light in the sky distracts him, and I take the opportunity to pull away, jogging to where the Jag is parked. The top is down, so I throw my bag inside and jump behind the wheel.

“Drew, wait!” Gray jogs after me, but I floor it, throwing rocks as I rush out of the gravel parking lot. I’ve had it with the games…

* * *

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STAY
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2019

Stephen

Emmy bites her lip as she watches me undress. Her eyes follow my movements, and the heat flickering in her eyes has my cock a steel rod in my slacks. “When you look at me that way, I want to fuck you senseless.”

Her full bottom lip pops out, and she drops her chin, her pretty cheeks turning pink. She’s so fucking beautiful and so fucking stubborn. Shoving my pants off, I climb onto the massive king-sized bed in my room, catching her leg and pulling her under me. She lets out a little squeal, and I cover her mouth with mine.

She tastes sweet like strawberry cake, and her body is soft and warm against mine. I slide my lips along the line of her jaw, and she makes a little noise. “That sound…” I bite the skin on her neck and she does it again. “Spread your legs.”

“Stephen…” Her hands are on my sides, fingertips tracing around to my back.

“Do it.” Reaching down, I pull that filmy slip higher as she opens her thighs for me.

I hook my thumb in the side of her thong and rip it away as I bury my cock balls-deep in her slippery heat.

She inhales sharply, arching her back higher. I let out a low groan.

One of the benefits of getting married—blood tests. We’re both officially clean, and I plan to fuck her bareback all over this house this weekend.

“You feel so good,” I hiss, sinking deeper into her.

Her knees rise at my sides, and she moans as I rock my hips faster, harder. “Yes…” She gasps in my ear, and I catch her around the waist, rolling us over so she’s on top of me now.

“Sit up.” I nudge her waist. “I want to see you ride me.”

She buries her face in my neck. “No.”

“God dammit!” My back arches and I growl, shoving my cock deeper into her. “Don’t tell me no, woman!”

She moves her face, kissing my cheek and speaking in my ear. “You like when I tell you no. You like fighting with me.”

A surge moves through my cock, and I groan. She’s right.

Reaching down, I unclasp her bra so I can feel her hard nipples against my chest. “Let me at least kiss your tits.”

“Stephen,” she moans, rocking her hips against my pelvis, driving me crazy with her hot little pussy…

* * *
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WAIT FOR ME
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2019

Prologue

Noel

My momma was too beautiful to die.
At least, that’s what everybody said.

Penelope Jean Harris was the scion of our town’s founder and prettiest girl in three parishes. She was head majorette in high school and Homecoming queen and Prom queen and every other queen. She was Peach Princess, Teen Dixie Peach, and Miss Dixie Gem. She would’ve gone on to be Miss Louisiana if my daddy hadn’t made her a Mrs.

I was eleven—that strange age between too big to play in the creek in only my panties and too little to sleep without the closet light on. I loved Dolly Parton and butterflies and picking peaches straight off my Daddy’s trees and eating them, jumping in the lake and running after jackrabbits with my little brother Leon.

In the summer the trees were rich green, and the sweet scent of peach juice filled the air. In the winter they were sparse, bony hands, reaching palms up to heaven. Branches like fingers spread, grasping for hope.

Momma’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners whenever she looked at me or my brothers or my daddy. Her sweet smile was warm sunshine when I got cold.

She would wrap me in her arms and sing an old sad song when I was sleepy or cranky or “out of sorts,” which is how she’d put it. I pictured “sorts” as ivory dominoes I could line up and knock down or slap off the table, across the room. I’d pull her silky brown hair around me like a cape and close my eyes and breathe…

Then she was gone.

She went for a walk one crisp winter evening along the narrow, dirt road that runs past our orchard out to the old house on the hill. Frost was in the air; bonfires were burning. The man driving the truck said she came out of nowhere.

He never saw her.
She never saw him.

Six weeks later, in that same orchard with peach blossoms on the trees and dew tipping the grass, on the very spot she died, my daddy took his life with his own gun.

I guess sometimes love makes you forget things can get better.
I guess he didn’t see a bend in the road up ahead.
I guess he only saw a straight line leading deeper and deeper into black.

My daddy was the star of his high school football team… but Life threw him a pass he couldn’t catch with Momma’s death.

Our world changed forever that winter.

Dolly says love is like a butterfly, soft and gentle as a sigh, but from what I’ve seen of love, I think it’s more like a tornado, shocking and violent and so powerful it can rip your soul out of your mouth…

It’s faster than you can run, and it blows one house away while leaving the next one peacefully standing.

I didn’t know which way love would take me, quietly or with the roar of a freight train. I should’ve known. I should’ve realized the moment I saw him.

It was both.

It was quiet as the brush of peach fuzz, but it left my insides in splinters. It twisted my lungs and lifted me up so high only to throw me down with a force that rang my ears and flooded my eyes.

It all started the summer before they left, a month before my brother was sent to fight in a war everybody said was over.

It all started in the kitchen of my momma’s house…

* * *
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WAIT FOR ME
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2019

Taron

She jogs up behind me and wraps both her arms tightly around mine, soaking my backside with her frigid, wet body.

“How does that feel, Mr. Bruised Rib? Huh? How does it?” Her voice is so adorably taunting, like she’s going to fight me or something.

I kind of can’t take it anymore. Turning around, I swoop her up by the waist, putting her face directly level with mine. She gasps as our eyes meet.

Her hands are on my shoulders, and all the pent-up heat, the nagging chemistry, her hard nipples pressing against my chest, all of it swirls into a fusion of lust and need.

“I want to kiss you.” My voice cracks roughly. I barely recognize it.

She nods, and I stretch up as she meets me halfway. Our lips brush, and it’s like two flints striking. Sparks swirl between us as I push her mouth open with mine.

I lower her to her feet so I can cup her face in my hands, and our tongues slide and curl together. She tastes like cold, fresh water, and she feels like diving off the top of a cliff into a bottomless ocean.

Her small body fits perfectly in my arms, and I pull her closer to me, wrapping my arms around her. She exhales a high noise, and my lips move to the top of her cheek, to her temple, to her brow. I don’t want to stop kissing her, holding her. I’ve never felt this way—desperate and hungry and so satisfied.

She slides her hands up to my neck, and she drops her forehead to my bare chest. I lower my nose to the top of her head and breathe.

“Taron.” Her soft voice sounds as bewildered as I feel.

How is this happening to us? Has this ever happened to anyone before? Is it possible? It feels so specific.

Her head lifts, and her golden-brown eyes are warm. “What are you doing?”

The question makes me grin. “Something I’ve wanted to do for two days.”

She blinks down as her cheeks flush. “I wondered why I didn’t do it when you caught me in the kitchen.” Her nose wrinkles, and she squints up at me. “Isn’t that what ladies do when they’re saved by handsome princes?”

“I’m not a prince.”

“But you are handsome.” A tease is in her eye.

Sliding my thumb along the top of her cheek, I lean down to kiss her lips once more. “If you ever need saving, I want to save you.”

Somehow I’m certain Noel LaGrange can take care of herself no matter what. Still, everybody slips off a kitchen counter sometimes.

“And I’ll save you back.”

I pull her to my chest, wanting to kiss her again. “It’s a deal.”

* * *
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HERE WITH ME
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

Prologue - Sawyer

Love was all around me when I was a kid.

It was the twinkle in my mamma’s eyes when my little sister Noel walked out on stage at the Princess Peach pageant. Even if she ducked her chin and wouldn’t look at anybody, much less the judges.

It was in her full-body laugh the time my baby brother Leon ate cocoa powder and started crying because it was so bitter. We all laughed until he got mad and wouldn’t speak to us for an hour. He said he wanted a new family.

It was walking with my daddy in the rows, listening to his thoughts on life. It was the warmth in his voice when he’d show me the green shoots of new growth on a peach tree. It was him calling me son.

One day, this will all be yours, son…

Sitting beside Hayes pond, I reach in a plastic box and pull out a brown cricket. Its spindly legs fan out as I thread the fish hook down its spine before tossing it onto the water. I don’t like fishing with insects, but they’re the best way to catch bass or perch, my daddy’s favorite.

I watch as it bobs along the short waves, slowly getting waterlogged, slowly sinking into the depths. The wind moves through the cold trees and the early-morning light is pale gray.

It’s quiet.

I like the quiet. It helps my mind relax, and I can sort through my thoughts, straightening them out like playing cards dropped on the floor.

Fifty-two card pickup.

A dirty trick played on little kids.

Noel went fishing with us once. She was only five, and she chattered nonstop. Daddy didn’t mind her flitting around, bouncing back and forth between us, but I was ten. I wanted her to sit down and shut up. Stop scaring away the fish.

When she saw us baiting our hooks with crickets, she fell back and got real quiet.

Finally, I thought, until I looked around and saw she’d opened the box and let all our bait hop away to freedom.

It was my mamma’s favorite story.

She’d make Daddy or me tell it every time she wanted a good laugh. Her hazel eyes would crinkle at the corners, and she’d smile that pretty smile, lips parting over straight white teeth.

People say I’ve got my mamma’s eyes…

Daddy and I used to go fishing every Sunday, but he hasn’t left his room since Mamma died last month. He sits in a chair, not speaking, not eating, just staring out the window, like he’s waiting for her to come back for him, waiting for her to tell him it’s time to get up and eat something, start living again.

Mamma had gone for a walk that evening around twilight. She was just over the hill on the narrow dirt road when that truck came out of nowhere and killed her instantly.

The driver said he never saw her.

The coroner said she probably never saw him.

I hope she didn’t.

I hope she was thinking about Noel freeing all our live bait that steamy summer morning. I hope she was laughing softly, thinking of her family, full of love as she slipped away to heaven.

When the sheriff told my daddy what happened, my daddy fell to his knees. The noise that came from him was raw and wild, something I’d never heard before or since. Mr. Vincent looked at me like he didn’t know what to do, so I went and carried my daddy inside to his room.

An ache lodged in the middle of my back that night, right between my shoulder blades.

I hope if I catch a mess of fish and cook them up how he likes, maybe Daddy will come back to us and stop sitting in that chair, silent and far away.

The line dips then a sharp tug almost pulls the pole out of my hand. My grip tightens, and I turn the spinner fast, reeling in a good-sized perch, a little bigger than my palm.

A few casts later, and I’ve caught enough to feed us all, once I clean them.

I’m walking back to my truck. At sixteen, I’ve been driving for about a year. It’s close enough to walk home but cold as fuck, which is why I drove.

The last thing I expect to see is a girl sitting on the ground this side of the fence. It’s Noel’s friend Mindy Ray. She’s wrapped in a thick, beige coat that looks like a teddy bear, and her frizzy, dark-brown head is pressed forward against her knees. She’s crying. I can hear her sharp sniffles as I get closer.

“Hey.” I put my hand on her shoulder, giving her a little shake. “You okay?”

She only pulls away from me, not lifting her head.

Frowning, I squint up to where my old red Chevy waits. I’m kind of maxed-out on the emotional front right now, but I can’t leave her this way.

Ever since Mamma passed, the adults have been lost in their own heads. It’s like they forgot about us kids, like they forgot we’re suffering, too, and we still need them. It’s made me feel like I need to step up and look out for us, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her out here in the cold.

Reaching down, I catch her skinny arm and pull her to her feet. “Come on.”

“Leave me alone!” She jerks her arm out of my grip and glares at me.

Mindy’s only eleven, but she’s got this look that kind of hits you right in the gut, bright green eyes, full lips, and all that thick, dark spirally-wild hair.

She’s beautiful.

For a little girl.

“Fine.” I start to go. I want to leave her after that outburst, but I only get a few steps before turning back. My jaw clenches, and my voice is more like a growl. “What’s wrong with you?”

She answers sharp and fast. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing you’d understand, Sawyer LaGrange. No one’s ever made fun of you.” She shoves a coiled lock of hair behind her ear. “Just forget you ever saw me here.”

Little drama queen. Fat chance of that. “I got to get back to the house. Don’t make me put you over my shoulder.”

Her lips press together, and she glares daggers at me for the space of a few blinks. But when I start walking, I hear her following me. Reaching over the side, I put the bucket of fish and my rod in the bed of the truck while she climbs in on the passenger’s side.

The engine is a low rumble in the quiet, and I shift it into gear before driving us slowly back toward my house. Mindy’s arms are crossed. She’s staring out the window, but her lower lip quivers. It makes me uncomfortable.

Still… “Want to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

Suits me just fine. I direct my gaze out the windshield, thinking about what’s waiting for me.

The sun rises slowly over the rows of peach trees that make up our family’s 100-acre orchard. Golden light tips the frost on the dark green leaves. Frost is okay now with no buds on the trees, but frost in April can wipe out an entire crop, all our income for the year.

As the oldest son, Daddy’s been grooming me to take over the place one day. Leon’s only seven, and Noel’s just a girl. I have mixed feelings about the idea.

Before Mamma died, I thought I might travel, maybe join the military. I’ve been in Harristown my whole life, and while it’s my home, I want to do something, see the world before I settle down and take over.

Resting my elbow on the window, I rub my forehead wondering what’s going to become of all that now. My mind’s a million miles away when Mindy’s voice pulls me back.

“Why do girls want to be in cliques?”

I look over at her. Her green eyes are red-rimmed, but she’s stopped crying.

“Is that what this is about?”

“Elizabeth Haynes said I look like I stuck my finger in a socket.” She tugs on the side of her hair. “Beth Hebert and everybody laughed. They said I must be adopted.”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. I don’t know why girls do what they do. “Why don’t you just hang out with Noel?”

Her chin drops, and she twists her fingers. “She’s kind of… out of it.” She quickly adds, “Which is understandable! I understand… I just get lonely.”

My mind returns to that thought I was having earlier about the adults being out to lunch and leaving us to figure it out.

“Listen.” Her green eyes fix on mine, and I’ve got her attention. I’m sixteen. I’m the oldest of all us kids, and they do what I say. “You’re gonna be really pretty one day. Some girls have a problem with that.”

Her slim brows furrow. “Gonna be? One day? Make me feel better next time.”

This is why I don’t say much. It always comes out all fucked up.

“I just mean people want to keep you in your place. You gotta blow that shit off and be yourself. Take the high road.”

Daddy always said I’m “old for my age.” I just keep my mouth shut and watch how people act. After a while, you start to notice patterns.

Mindy looks out the window again like she’s thinking about what I said. We’re pulling into my long driveway, and I see a few cars I wasn’t expecting. One of them is the sheriff’s, and my heart beats faster. What now?

The tightness in my shoulders moves around to the front of my neck, like somebody’s strangling me.

“I guess I understand.” Mindy’s still thinking about her problem.

Reaching over, I pat her shoulder. “If you ever need somebody to talk to, just come to me. I’ll take care of you.”

She looks up at me, and her green eyes fill with an emotion I half recognize. Trust. I’d remember it better if I weren’t doing my best to fight the panic settling on my skin like cold rain.

Sheriff Gautreaux stands on our front porch with Ed Daniels beside him. They both have that look on their faces—stony, preparing for what’s about to happen.

The fish in the back of my truck are forgotten as I climb out of the cab. Whatever brought them here is like a bad storm rolling in. It’s in the air around me, metallic on my tongue.

The sheriff is the first one to speak. “Sawyer, we need to talk to you, son.”

Son.

My insides clench, and my breath gets tight. A small hand slips into mine, and I look down. Beside me, Mindy’s brow is furrowed, her green eyes meet mine.

Somehow as small as she is, having her here beside me, holding my hand, I’m able to catch my breath. “Yes, sir?”

“It’s your daddy.” His voice is the same as the night he told us Mamma died. The knot between my shoulder blades twists tighter with every word. “We found him up on the old dirt road… I’m sorry.”

My daddy died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. They found him in the same place they found my mamma.

I guess he got tired of waiting for her.

I guess he decided she was too much to lose.

I guess he forgot about us.

Roaring fills my ears like a hurricane, destroying everything, and sweeping it all away. My parents, my home…

No.

Not my home.

I won’t let that happen.

Whatever it takes, I’ll hold us together.

Mindy’s small hand tightens around mine, and she holds me, an anchor in the middle of the storm.

I said I’d take care of her, and she’s standing here trusting me—they all are.

Old for my age.

That day changed everything, but she stood beside me. A girl who turned out to be stronger than I knew, a girl who would hold my hand in the darkest hour.

A girl who would change my life.

It all started the day I thought I’d lost everything…

* * *
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HERE WITH ME
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

Mindy

An hour later, I’m sitting at the small desk in my room thinking about everything. I’ve changed into shorts and a thin tank, and my hair is up in a messy bun.

For whatever reason, I always think better when I write things down. I’m holding a pen, tapping it on an open notebook when a tapping starts on my window, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

My eyes widen when I see Sawyer outside the glass. Running to my bedroom door, I lock it before crossing quickly and sliding open the window.

“This is a switch,” I whisper, helping him over the sill. “What are you doing here?”

His hair is messy over his eyes, and he seems agitated. He’s breathing fast, and I think I smell the faintest hint of whiskey on his breath, hot and syrupy.

“I thought you had to get up early.”

“I do.” He hesitates, sitting back on the edge of the sill. His eyes are down, and he looks at his palm. “Deacon seems like a good guy.”

“He likes helping people with their finances.”

Sawyer’s eyes flash at me. “He seems really familiar with you.”

An edge is in his tone, and my chest tightens. I can’t decide if I’m pissed or I’m happy. “We spent a lot of time together in college.”

“When I was gone.” His voice is low, like rolling thunder. “Is he in your business?”

“Not yet. I haven’t decided what I want to do.” Yes, I’m taunting him.

He stands quickly, angrily. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

I race to get between him and the window. “Why did you come here?”

His eyes are lowered, and his jaw tightens. “I don’t know.”

“You do know. Tell me.” My breath comes fast, my breasts rising and falling.

His eyes flicker down, hunger in them. They rise to mine, and I won’t let him stop us this time. My arms go around his neck, and I kiss him hard, pushing his lips apart so I can touch his tongue with mine.

It’s like a spark to kindling. Strong hands grip my waist, his fingers cutting into my skin, and I feel him fighting. I feel it when he breaks. His mouth moves, and a low groan rumbles from his chest. It sends heat racing to my core.

Our mouths break apart, and I gasp as his lips move roughly along my jawline to my ear. “I don’t like him touching you.”

His hands slide lower, and I gather his shirt in my hands, pulling it higher, uncovering his luscious, lined stomach, his chest covered in sparse hair.

He only hesitates a moment before letting me lift his shirt over his head. My eyes hold his, and I lift mine over my head, baring my breasts.

“Then you touch me...”

* * *
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HERE WITH ME
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

Mindy

“Brown sugar!” I’m not the greatest singer, but I close my eyes and belt it out along with Mick on Spotify.

The air smells like pine and damp leaves and summer. My shoes are off, and I flip the ends of my chiffon dress with my fingers. I’m full of tequila and swinging my hair, doing my best Lana del Rey as I dance in the glow of the high beams of Sawyer’s truck parked in front of Darby Lake.

He’s leaning back against the hood watching me. His jacket, tie, and cummerbund are gone, and his white shirt is unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. The lines of his stomach deepen with his laugh, and I can just make out the sprinkle of dark hair across his chest.

He’s pure sex, and I want to wrap my legs around him...

“You taste so good, baby girl.”

Have I mentioned how much I love that he calls me that? It’s kind of dirty, and Sawyer’s only five years older than I am. Still, I love it.

“I want to spend the night here, under the stars.” I lift my arms over my head, swaying my hips.

My movements cause my strapless dress to slide lower on my breasts, and I open my eyes slightly to see Sawyer’s hooded gaze on them. Lowering my arms, I walk slowly forward, to where he’s standing.

“You like what you see?” Placing my hands on either side of him, I lean in for a kiss.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” He captures my lips in his and consumes me.

Rough hands unzip my dress, and it falls to the ground. He cups my breasts, pinching my nipples with his fingers. It’s so hot, I hold his neck, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifts me by the ass, turning me so I’m on the hood of his truck...

* * *
💋Get HERE WITH ME Now:
AMAZON: https://geni.us/HWMa
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Amazon PB: https://smarturl.it/HWMaPB
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Signed PB: http://smarturl.it/SignedPBs

*Free in Kindle Unlimited.