Entice (Hearts of Stone #2) (31 page)

I take her hands in mine and set them over my belt again. "It's just until this afternoon. Then I'm off the next two days. And right now?" I tug at her hips. "I've got an hour before I have to leave."
 

"Sixty whole minutes?" Her lips curl. "What are you going to do with that?"

"If it's all right, I was planning on doing you." My lips tease the skin just below her ear, as her body grows weaker in my arms.
 

"There's just one thing," she says.
 

"Yeah?" Already pulled under her spell, I bring a hand to the other side of her face.

"I'm in love with you," she says.

Every cell in my body responds to her words, soaking them in. I bring my lips over hers. "That?" I ask, smiling uncontrollably. "You finally figured that out?" She glares at me and my smile widens. "You already know how I feel about you." My hand slides down the curve of her neck then freezes as it brushes her bare collarbone. "You're not wearing the necklace?"

"Owen, you gave it to me after you dumped me. On Valentine's Day."

I shake my head. "Technically speaking, you dumped me. But did you look at the note? The one in the envelope?"

"Sorry, not yet. It was too hard for me."

"Oh, well," I taunt. "Then I guess you don't know how I feel about you."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"We only have fifty-five minutes now." My fingers move on their own accord, unbuttoning her jeans, slipping between the materials until my palms meet her heated skin. "Wouldn't you rather I showed you?"

"Yes, please," she says, quickly. "That'd be nice..."

I laugh, gripping her ass and, as though anticipating my move, she jumps up, wrapping her legs around me. I carry her to the bedroom, her mouth trailing kisses over my neck until I lower her onto the bed. The moment we separate, our eyes lock and we peel away our clothes, an almost ritualistic feeling to our movements, as though some primal instinct in our subconscious propels us to tear our clothes away, our bodies screaming to feel the flesh of the other.
 

I can't take my eyes off of her. She's always fascinated me in a way I can't quite explain. Watching her, wondering what she's thinking, burning constantly to touch her.
 

A certainty splits through my gut and I know without a shadow of a doubt that this beautiful creature right here, this woman, is everything I want. What I've always wanted and what I'll always want.

I'm completely undressed before she's done unhooking her bra. I put on a condom, all the while taking in her every curve and sloping plane, the hollows, as her fingers work between her glistening skin, rubbing.

The way she looks up at me, expectantly, turns my next breath into a low groan. She's enticing in the ways only a woman like her can be. Eliciting from me a deep desire to be beside her. On her. In her. To make her body twist into stunning curves under my command.

I lower myself onto her and she pulls my face to hers, kissing me hard. Her legs wrap around me and her hips tilt to meet mine and…damn. She wants it so bad I slide in insanely smooth. She's all velvet and heat, searing through the condom and clenching tightly around me.
 

Soon she's moaning uncontrollably. And as much as the fire coursing through my veins makes me want to shut my eyes, I keep them fixed on her. Because there's nothing in this world quite like watching this woman melt underneath me.

Nothing more intimate than the way her eyes, glossy with desire, take in my expression as I thrust into her. The roughness in my strokes only an indication of how desperately I want her. How insatiable I am for her.
 

Among the sounds of our clashing bodies and coarse breathing are the desperate whines of delight drifting from her throat. She moans and coos, until her body buckles as she comes, squeezing me tight. And as her hips rock, she purrs out my name. My dick throbs painfully and I have to slow, not wanting our hour to be up so soon. Her face splits into a grin.

Because she knows.
 

She knows exactly what she does to me.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Emily

My door shuts behind me and I barely slow to drop my purse and keys on my way to my room. I sit on the bed and pull out the envelope from the drawer, setting the black jewelry box on the nightstand. The envelope is worn, something I didn't notice the first time. The edges are frayed and the sheet of paper inside is visible. I slide a finger through the sealed flap, tearing it open.
 

The first thing my eyes land on is the date written in the top right corner. I close my eyes and do the math in my head. It's dated the summer before my junior year of high school. His senior year. Months before he'd slip his jacket over me outside of the prom.
 

Emily,

You don't know me and that's probably my fault. I can't seem to find the right time, the right place to tell you what I need you to know. So, I thought I should write it, instead.
 

I've overheard things I probably shouldn't have. Heard you telling my father how alone you feel. How no one really knows the truth. How you feel like a fraud. Because you're poor and your mother's an addict and you feel cold and empty inside. How you feel like a bad person. Because no one's really showed you what it's like to feel safe.
 

I heard everything. And I want to say, I'm sorry. I know I wasn't supposed to hear it. I know those words were private and not meant for me.

But please don't be embarrassed. I want to tell you it's okay. Everyone feels like a fraud. I feel like that, too. I'm a fraud for carrying around these feelings for you and not having the courage to even talk to you face-to-face. I tried to work up the courage about a dozen times, but never followed through.

Here it is in black and white.

I see you. I notice you. Not the parts of you other people see. Not the swagger and the sarcasm. Not just your body or your beautiful face. The real you. The you you're scared to show people because you think it's ugly.
 

I want you to know, the real you is beautiful.

I want you to know I'm in love with you.

Maybe that's crazy. Maybe I'm crazy. But it's how I feel and no matter how much I try to convince myself it isn't true, or isn't smart, or possible, it just doesn't change.

So there it is. I'm in love with you, Emily. And I hope you'll seriously consider giving me a chance to prove it. I promise it'll be worth it.

Owen

A teardrop falls onto the center of the page. "Shit," I say, rushing to blot it with the corner of my blouse, relieved the ink doesn't smear.
 

My breathing is uneven as I lay the letter down and pick up the little black box, opening it. The necklace is a recent purchase. I know this not just because the box is as sleek and new as the item inside, but because there are four diamonds dotting the curves of the pendant. Owen wouldn't have been able to afford it at the time he wrote the letter. The letter, of course, is more than enough. But this necklace? The infinity symbol hanging from it?
 

It's more than just a symbol. It's a promise. The promise he scribbled on that torn sheet of paper a few weeks ago.
 

Always.

I pull the chain over my neck and the metal cools the skin of my collarbone. My fingertips come up to my lips as I laugh, realizing I had it wrong before.
 

I'm not the chink in Owen's armor. He's the chink in mine.
 

The weeks that follow are wonderful and sometimes terrible. Realizing just how much I've come to depend on drinking, especially at night. Having to admit to Owen when I feel particularly tempted. Acknowledging that blatant weakness in me, isn't something that I like to do. But it's necessary and Owen understands. He's patient and caring and supportive.
 

This town is familiar and somehow feels brand new. Something in me shifts with every passing day. Whatever it is, it's
good
. I'm aware of it even when I'm trying not to be. And if I ever feel my focus waning, I bring my fingertips to the infinity charm at the end of the necklace. A reminder I need to work on myself every single day. A reminder someone is counting on me. I'm not accountable just for myself anymore. The things I do, they affect Owen and Landon.
 

These days, my life is fresh with possibility as the grime I allowed before washes away slowly, but surely.

Things really are changing. I'm starting to like myself more and more, learning not to pick at scabs, allowing the lightness to be real and not an act.
 

One night, I wake up alone in bed. My loft is silent, streaks from the moon cut through the window behind my bed. A certainty tears through me like a beam of light. It finally feels real.
 

This
is my new beginning.
 

The real beginning. It's not weighted by the constant fear of impending doom, or the subconscious desire to pull on the threads until things unravel. I'm wrapped in a sensation of worthiness. Standing on
top
of everything I've been through, everything I've earned, and no longer teetering near the edge, feeling the urge to jump. No longer needing to fear the things that come my way.
 

Those things should fear me.
 

Because I am determined and a force to be reckoned with. And if, even for just a moment, I ever question which way is north, I'll anchor myself with the help of my compass.
 

The good things in my life. The good people.
 

And, of course, myself.

<>

Thank you for reading.

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Stay tuned for news on the next installment of
 

the Hearts of Stone series…

Coming later in 2015.

Other books by Veronica Larsen:

Entangle (Hearts of Stone, Book 1)

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Acknowledgements
 

First and foremost, I want to thank
my readers
, from the bottom of my heart, for taking a chance on this new author and embracing my stories. You have no idea the difference your words of encouragement made on me during the writing process of this novel. I'm not going to lie. This book kicked my butt. It was hard to write for so many reasons. In the moments I felt like giving up on the story, you'd lift me up again by expressing your excitement about reading it. Your support lit a fire under me to push past the last walls and deliver.
 

A huge thanks to ALL of the
Bloggers
who have read/reviewed my books and/or offered to help spread the word. I truly appreciate your passion for books and all the time and work you all put into your blogs and Facebook pages on a daily basis, helping stories find their audience.
 

There's a group of incredible women who I'm blessed to call my friends, and who
 
offered their invaluable insight to help me bring Entice to it's fullest potential.
 
Ariane
, you're my twin-soul and this novel is proof of that.
Stephanie
, just when I was starting to lose sight of the story, you shone a light that served as my beacon back to my narrative voice.
Courtney
, you're just always there to tuck my sanity back in.
Karyn
, your last-minute, top-secret beta-read made all the difference.
 

There are also some hardworking, talented women who have stood behind Entice and propped it up onto it's proverbial legs.
Lea
, you took amazing care of this story. Your genuine passion and talent for editing blew my expectations out of the water.
 
Neda
, your vote of confidence means so much to me. Thank you for believing in my story enough to represent it.
Julie
, thanks for being my last pair of eyes, making sure this baby is ready for the limelight.
 

To
 
my sister and mother
, thanks for showing me what strong women are and for promising to never read my sex-ridden stories. I love you guys and can't possibly imagine a world without your relentless teasing.
 

 
My husband
, this novel wouldn't exist without your unconditional support and encouragement. I don't know what else to say. You are simply everything.