Someone for Me by Addison Moore
“Really?” She jumps over me with enthusiasm and a wave splashes onto the floor.
“Yes, really. Prepare to have your wildest fantasies fulfilled.” I reach down and run my fingers over her heated slick.
“Boy, you really know how to make a point.” Her lids flutter as she lands a kiss over my lips.
I carefully spin her until I’m lying on top, and Kenny helps guide me in. The water pulsates to the rhythm of our lovemaking until an entire ocean sloshes out and onto the floor.
Kenny moves her hips with mine and moans right into my mouth. I reach down and work my thumb over her in slow and steady circles, bringing her right there with me. Her legs wrap around my back. Her heels dig into my muscles and it feels like the best damn massage ever. I take it easy until Kenny is about to lose it, then push into her as greedily as I’ve wanted to all night. Kenny lets out an aching cry and presses me in deep just as I tremble into her.
Kenny’s legs go into lockdown over my back and we stay that way, with her limbs wrapped around me like she’s hanging on for dear life.
“That was one heck of a first chapter,” she pants hard into my ear.
“It’s going to be an exciting new adventure with you every day, and I can’t wait to turn the page and see what tomorrow brings.”
Kenny bites down over her cherry-stained lip. “Me either.” She digs her fingers through my hair and kisses me gently on the temple.
I’ll personally make sure the next few months are exciting as hell.
I have a feeling the rest of our lives will be nothing but a long string of happy endings because with Kenny in my arms I’m already pretty damn happy.
3
THE BOOK OF LOVE
Kendall
I’m up before dawn with my laptop open and my coffee waiting patiently by my side as I hem and haw over details including pen names and characters’ names and towns and cities and planets. God, this is all so complicated. Honestly, I thought I would just have to employ my sarcastic superpowers and my bathroom sense of humor and the whole crazy idea would be made of win. But it’s not. It’s hard as all hell.
I slump in my seat and take in my surroundings. I love Cruise’s homey cabin. I love the rustic, woodsy feel, the large stone fireplace. My gaze dips to those sheepskin rugs lining the floor, and a million erotic memories flood back to me. Cruise and I already have it all—well, with the tiny exception of boatloads of money and a wedding, and both look impossible now.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Ally. No hot water. Mind if we shower at your place?
I text back. Not at all! ~K
By the time Morgan and Ally come over, I still haven’t written a single sentence of chapter one because, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what to call my small cast of two. My screen is cluttered with all kinds of ridiculous names I’ve jotted down as potential monikers.
I give Ally a brief hug while Morgy heads straight for the shower. It still makes me smile that they’re together, plus this way, I get to have my big brother in town, so it’s a win-win.
Ally pulls her feet up onto the chair and hugs her knees. “I hope you don’t mind I told Lauren to stop by. She’s dropping Cal off at the gym and said she’d pick up coffee on the way.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ve just been sitting here stumped over this whole naughty book thing.”
“So”—her lips curve into a secret smile—“did Cruise provide any good material last night?”
“Doesn’t he always?” I cut a quick glance toward our bedroom and a heat wave pulses through my body.
“Let’s see what you’ve got so far.” Ally leans in close. “Lacey Lovesalot—Ben Dover?” She makes a face and shakes her head. “Eh. It’s cute but it’s missing something.”
The bathroom door rattles, and the distinct sound of two grown men shouting ensues.
“Holy shit,” Cruise says. He stomps down the hall with a towel draped around his waist and gives Ally a sheepish grin. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Ally and I sing back in unison. Obviously, Cruise thought I was in the shower. God only knows the level of duress he’s put my poor brother in.
Ally speeds out the reason they’re here.
“Say no more.” Cruise runs his fingers through his rumpled hair and my insides quiver. He’s perfectly tanned from a long, hot summer, and his abs are so well defined I might just do a load of laundry on them later. “You’re welcome anytime.” He struts back into the bedroom with the towel dipping below his waist, exposing just enough of his bare bottom for me to wish we were alone.
“God—that man is dangerously sexy.” I let out a breath.
The front door opens, and it’s Lauren, bearing lattes for one and all. A cool breeze follows her in as she shuts the door with the heel of her thigh-high riding boot.
“What did I miss?” Her hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing her black Bebe sweatshirt with all the cute sparkly rhinestones. Lauren has a way of making questionable hygiene seem chic. She takes a seat at the table with us.
“Cruise just propositioned Morgan,” Ally says, grabbing a cup and carefully taking a sip. “And Kendall here hasn’t quite hit first base.” She spins my laptop toward Lauren.
“No.” Lauren shakes her head. “Those names will not do. You need something real, something gritty people can hold on to. You need to believe in these characters yourself or, trust me, nobody else will.”
“Right.” I avert my gaze for a moment. “But it’s not like I can just call them Kenny and Cruise.”
“I suppose not.” Lauren slumps in her seat, and the three of us spend the next few minutes contemplating porn names that are quasi-believable.
Ally taps the table. “How about Penny and C-R-U-Z?” She tweaks her brows at the absurdity.
“Please.” I shake my head at the idea—although I do find it wildly exciting to venture so close to the truth.
Lauren nods into the idea. “Penny Whoredon and Cruz Shelton.”
“Shelton?” Ally ixnays the surname with a wrinkle of her nose.
A vision of me dangling in the closet the night of her and Morgan’s housewarming party comes back to me.
“Belton.” I slap my hand on the table. “Trust me, no one knows how to wield a belt like my Cruise.”
Their mouths fall open for a full three seconds in sheer awe of Cruise’s mad strap-wielding skills.
“Penny Whoredon”—I bite down on a smile—“and Cruz Belton.”
“Sounds like a bestseller in the works.” Ally gives a little wink.
“Now we just need a pen name for you.” Lauren thumps the table.
“Penny Whoredon,” Ally insists.
Lauren balks. “You can’t use the same name or it becomes yawnable nonfiction, or worse, slotted with all the self-help books.”
“Kenny Spanx.” I say it so fast it sounds like a hiss.
“Kenny Spanx?” Lauren’s eyes widen with approval.
Morgan comes out wearing his sweats and a Garrison practice T-shirt. His tattoos stream out in a rainbow of color up and down both arms.
“What’s up, sis?” He plants a kiss on the top of my head, and I’m quick to slap my laptop shut. The last thing my brother needs to see are the dirty details of my creative writing assignment, or, I should say, my creative wedding assignment. “I’ll make breakfast,” he volunteers, and soon the entire place fills with the scent of bacon.
The shower is running again, and I can only assume it’s Cruise in there this time.
“I don’t know how I’m ever going to get this done around here.” I glance toward our bedroom.
“You’re not going to tell him?” Ally’s eyes widen like two emerald pools.
“No,” I mouth. “And don’t tell . . .” I nod over at my brother. God, the last thing I need is Morgan being apprised of my foray into erotica. “It’s just a temporary stepping-stone—a monetary means to an end.”
“Speaking of which”—Lauren drums her fingers on the table—“we
Crap. I stare at the blank screen because what I’ve got is nothing. “Okay, um, how about, The Sexual Adventures of a College Coed?”
“Boring.” Ally cuts the air with her finger.
“Overdone.” Lauren closes her eyes for a moment. “And it’s not like Penny is going to be sleeping with a million people. We need to keep it simple. How about The Pleasure Me Diaries? Or My Romp with a College Professor?”
Ally moans. “Too wordy.”
“I got it.” I straighten in my seat and note that Morgan is already creating a small mountain out of bacon. I lean into the girls. “The Naughty Professor.”
They pull back as their mouths open wide—with awe, I hope.
“Now that’s simple.” Ally clearly approves.
“Lauren?” I hold my breath as she considers this.
“God, even I want to read this.” She lets out a tiny giggle.
“Then it’s settled.” I click away at the keyboard until the words The Naughty Professor light up the screen. “Penny Whoredon and Cruz Belton are about to have the time of their lives.”
Lauren salutes me with her coffee. “And so are we.”
Ally and I do the same and respond in unison. “And so are we.”
The clouds over Garrison swirl dark and ominous, like oily charcoal ready to drip onto campus. I was hoping to call Cruise in a bit and see if we can schedule a romp on top of the tower in the steel-caged globe the way we did a few months back. I glance up at the noble structure. It’s Garrison’s highest point. The entire building sort of watches over campus like a brick-and-mortar guard. I remember that day, the way he peeled my clothes off, the way our lips melted over one another as we made love with wild abandon. It was exhilarating and took away my fear of heights in grand style. But with my luck a downpour will ensue this afternoon and we’ll both wash right out onto the lawn below with broken necks.
I just finished with my only class of the day—trigonometry. It’s going to be hard as hell. I hate numbers for even existing, let alone tagging themselves with the alphabet to create a genuine mindfuck. None of it makes sense.
I duck into the bookstore to pick up the exorbitantly priced textbooks I’ll need for the semester. I thought if I waited an extra day I’d miss the crowd, but no such luck. The entire place is teeming with bodies and the checkout line snakes around the entire facility.
Crap.
A tall, dark, and handsome man waves as he comes toward me—Morgan.
“Hey, sis.” He holds out his bag for me to gawk at it, filled to the brim with a million books, most of them with a used sticker stamped across the front.
“Did you break the bank?” I’m hoping he says no because in truth I could use whatever’s left over to fund my own scholastic needs.
“It’s covered with my scholarship. Why, you need help?” He nods for me to follow him deeper into the bookstore.
I hold on to his sweatshirt and his warm Polo cologne comforts me. It’s the same scent he’s worn since he was a teenager. For so long I’d flock to that cologne at the department stores just to hold my brother in my senses for a little while. Now he’s here, and I still can’t believe it.
“The books are on me.” His dimples depress as if to accentuate his point.
“There’s no way I’d risk you losing your scholarship over something like this.”
“It’s not a big deal. I picked up a book for Ally. They’re never going to know. What do you need?” He takes the list from my hand, and I trail him around as he loads up on my textbooks. “This is maybe five books.” He frowns at me. “How many classes are you taking?”
“Three.” I shrug, snatching the list back from him. “I wanted a light load so I could focus on the wedding. Plus there aren’t really any books for my creative writing class except for the one I’m writing.”
“You’re writing a book?” His eyes light up with a sense of pride.
Stupid, stupid me.
My mouth opens and just as I’m about to refute the idea, a shadow drapes over me, stealing the light from around us.
I glance back to find the demon of all wedding date stealing demons, Blair Lancaster.
“You still hanging around campus?” Morgan glares at her. She’s the one who almost cost Morgan his scholarship by telling the coach she was his girlfriend, and then not relaying the coach’s message that he’d made the team.
“Of course.” Blair flicks at the pearls around her neck. God, she’s so thin, she’s downright wiry. Does the girl ever eat? Not that I feel the need to buy her a burger. She can live off birdseed for all I care. Her lips bleed out in a single red line and her blonde hair is gelled into a tight French knot. “Why wouldn’t I be on campus? My father sits on the board. My grandfather has a hall dedicated in his honor.” She pinches her lips in an arrogant manner. “My parents are ‘platinum alumni,’ which means they’ve given over five hundred thousand dollars to this school over the last ten years. We practically remodeled the very room you’re standing in just last spring.” She tightens her auburn-colored coat around her waist and narrows in on my poor brother. “Besides, what happened between you and me was simply a little misunderstanding.” She flashes her ring finger at us, and I’m momentarily blinded by the obnoxiously huge rock on her hand. “Anyway, it’s water under the bridge. Rutger and I are well into the final phases of planning our big day. We’ve decided to gift one of the most important things to one another this holiday season.”
“The access codes to your bank accounts?” Morgan deadpans.
Blair cackles like the wicked witch she is. “Each other.”
“I’d rather have herpes.” Morgan pulls me along.
“With Ally by your side, you’re almost guaranteed!” Blair shouts after us, and I can practically see the steam pushing through my brother’s ears.
“Ignore her,” I huff, trying to keep up with him.
“She’s stealing my sanity.”
“She stole my wedding day.”
Blair crops up behind us in line with her own small pile of books in her arms. “Excuse me, Kenny—what did you say?”
“You heard me.” I turn, trying to control my breathing. I’m about to add a major plot twist to my upcoming novel, the one in which Penny murders Cruz’s ex and they have insane sex over her shallow grave.
“Sounds like a grapple for the chapel is about to erupt.” Her eyes enlarge as though this is a real possibility.
“As if you’d ever move your date,” I say as Morgan guides me toward an open register.
“You never know. Everything has its price.”
“I seriously doubt there’s enough money on the planet to buy you off.”
“Maybe it’s not money that I’m after.” She bears into me with that animalistic gleam in her eye, and it makes her look downright rabid.
Morgan pulls me in close. “Don’t entertain her. She’s batshit. Sorry about your date, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. You and Cruise will make it work.” He hands me the bag full of my books, and we head outside to the crisp, cool autumn air. Blair seems to have disappeared in a puff of fog—probably back to the coven from whence she came.
“Look”—he offers me a brief hug—“if you want your wedding to go off without a hitch, do not, I repeat do not, expect an ounce of mercy from Blair Lancaster. She’s only going to set you up for heartache. Promise me you’ll stay away from her.”
“Promise.” I give him a good firm squeeze. “You’re a good big brother, you know that?”
“I know.” He tugs on his ball cap as he starts to take off.
“Thanks for the books!” I call after him.
But if there’s any way in hell I can get Blair Lancaster to relinquish my wedding venue, then I’m going to do it.
The “grapple for the chapel.” A huff of a laugh trembles from my chest.
Cruise
I stare out at the bed-and-breakfast with a can of varnish in one hand and a hell of a lot of misery in my heart. The entire damn place is falling apart, and if the vacancies keep up the way they are, it’ll be a bona fide haunted house by Halloween.
A limo pulls up to the B and B just as I’m about to put a fresh coat of varnish on the front doors.
Great. Up until last week I was sporting my version of a monkey suit, and as soon as I throw on my paint clothes, royalty shows up. Just fuck.
The driver gets out and opens the door to the back and I wait for it. Obviously, they’ve landed at the wrong place, but if the driver was lost, wouldn’t he have asked for directions?
A young woman comes out with odd-shaped high heels that look as if they invert in the back and a long stick hanging out of her mouth that has a cigarette secured to the tip.
What the hell?
She’s got on dark sunglasses, and her short blonde hair is colored purple at the tips.
“You Cruise?” She nods like I should be expecting her.
“That would be me.” Shit. I know I bedded my way through the Greek alphabet before Kenny was on the scene, and the only random thought flying through my head is that I’m about to get news that I’m a father. Maybe the kid’s in the limo and they’re dropping it off for good.
“My cousin Cal said my friends and I could crash here for a while.” She gravels it out with a threadbare voice, and a swell of relief fills me.
That’s right. He mentioned they wanted to rent the place out.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding—thankfully, the only DNA this visit holds is directly related to my favorite bald-headed bag of muscles. Not that I don’t want kids. I do, but exclusively with Kenny. And, once I can figure out how to keep a roof over our heads well into the future, I’m sure we’ll do just that. Just thinking about having a baby with Kenny—hell, about making a baby with Kenny—triggers a smile on my lips. “Sure.” I put down the paint can digging into my fingers and slap my hands against my jeans. “When can I expect you?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” She starts in on a texting spree. “The rest of the band should arrive in a few hours.”