Read Feel (Sovereign Book 3) Online

Authors: Bj Harvey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors

Feel (Sovereign Book 3) (8 page)

“Hey,” he said roughly.

“Hey,” I replied, and through my tears I smiled and asked, “Want to play a game?”

 

 

 

 

I stood in the large shower of the Sovereign’s presidential suite with my face pointed up, water from the monsoon shower head cascading down over my face and my body. I rubbed my soapy hands along my arms and chest, relishing in the afterglow of what had been an amazing day.

A lot had happened since that final showdown with Gavin a year ago. He was now an inmate in a high-security penitentiary in California, having fought—and lost—all of the charges brought against him by both the LVPD and the FBI.

My mother did as promised, she contacted her lawyer on the night of the shooting and the very next day he filed a motion to have the married annulled. It meant that by the time the government was finished with him, Gavin Barnes had lost everything, including the Sovereign

The Sovereign was put up for sale, and together with a group of investors—including my mother and Bridget’s husband—Barrett and I purchased the property in its entirety. Having left the FBI after the court case, Barrett now ran the hotel along with a board of directors. 

A few weeks after Barrett was discharged from the hospital, we travelled back to Seattle to take care of Jacobs Publishing. I promoted Carrie within the company and appointed a trusted colleague of mine to oversee Seattle operations as my right hand man.

After selling both of our apartments, Barrett and I relocated to Vegas for the duration of Gavin’s trial, and for the time being, lived in the presidential suite of the Sovereign while we searched for the perfect home.

Three months ago, I’d surprised Barrett with a repeat date on the rooftop. I even roped in Bart—who incidentally was never a porter, but Barrett’s partner—to act as our waiter, for old time’s sake.

I thought I’d finally got one up on Barrett by surprising him with a positive pregnancy test underneath a silver food dome but as always, he had to have the last word. He did this when he dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him just as a wave of fireworks exploded off the roof of a neighboring building.

He’d never stopped showing me that I’d made the right decision in choosing him. Every minute of every day, I knew deep down in my heart that Barrett felt he was the luckiest man in the world to have me in his life and in return, I gave all of that back to him in everything I did and said.

My mother had started dating her lawyer, Kevin Gregory. She was understandably gun shy, and reluctant to accept his dinner invitation when he’d first asked her out two months ago, but I could see that he made her happy. It also helped that she’d known him all of my life, and he’d never once done anything that could harm either of us.

Warm air brushed over me, and I turned to look over my shoulder to see the hooded eyes of my husband. His chest hit my back and his hands snaked around my hips and slid over my front. One of his hands moved up to cup my jaw and the other rested gently on my round, four-month-pregnant belly.

“You took your time,” I murmured against his lips, just as he touched his mouth to mine.

“I had to wait for room service to arrive. I knew we wouldn’t want to be interrupted once we were naked.”

“Good idea,” I replied, before I traced the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip and moaned when he ground his hard cock against my bare ass in response. I arched my back, leaning into him as I smiled against his parted lips.

“Mrs. Lucas, I think you play very dirty.”

“Very dirty,” I whispered.

“I think you need to be thoroughly cleaned,” he replied, his hands gliding against my soapy skin.

“Do you think my husband is up to the task?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” he replied. Our tongues dueled as his hand dipped between my legs and started a torturous dance on my clit.

Never one to be outdone, I tangled my fingers into his wet hair and held him in place while reaching behind my back and wrapping my fist around his cock, stroking up and down ever so slowly.

“You’re a tease,” he groaned, dragging his teeth against my bottom lip before he buried his face in my neck and nipped the skin, causing my head to fall to the side and grant him access.

My movements sped up, and I flexed my fingers on every downward jerk, relishing in the growls escaping his mouth and vibrating against me.

“I need to be inside you, Mrs. Lucas,” he murmured as he sucked my earlobe between his lips and sent an electric jolt coursing through me. 

Without letting go of his cock, I turned around to face him and rose up on my toes to kiss his lips. Never looking away, I watched in fascinated wonder as I pleasured him, loving the heated gaze directed at me. “I think I need you inside me too, Mr. Lucas.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he spat out as he wrapped his arms around my hips, gripped my ass and lifted me up. My legs hooked around his back as he walked me towards the shower wall. Leaning back against the tile I guided him to my entrance and moaned loudly when he thrust up at the same as time I dropped down.

“Fucking perfect,” he said against my lips, and he wasn’t far wrong.

Fifteen months ago, I never would’ve imagined I would end up Mrs. Mark Barrett Lucas.

Everything we’d fought for and lived through—those we’d loved and lost, the pain, the tears, the broken hearts—all of it had led to the moment earlier that day when we were pronounced man and wife. 

We had a bright future laid out before us, and we were excited to move forward with our lives. Five months later, we celebrated our journey when—with my husband at my side—I welcomed our son, Dillon Mark Lucas, into the world.

 

 

The End

 

Coming Soon

Engage
– Aiden Lawrence’s Story

 

Continue reading for an exclusive excerpt from the first book in BJ’s hot new romantic comedy series

 

Game Player (The Game #1)

 

 

“When playing the player becomes more than a game”

From the USA Today bestselling author of the Bliss books comes a new spin off series featuring your favorite Bliss characters who are yet to meet their match.

 

Matt Taylor’s motto:

“I’m the king of the cut ‘n’ run. I wine them, dine them, then slide inside them, making sure I get up, get dressed and get out before they can even utter the words “second date.”

 

Mia Roberts’ motto:

“I’m queen of the chase. I meet them, greet them, date them and leave them. A social butterfly, I’m happily single and happy to stay that way.”

The players have been found.

The challenge has been set.

Whatever happens, they’ll soon find out that playing the game can get you played in the best possible way.

 

Exclusive Extract from Game Player

 

 

Prologue – Two Years Earlier

 

You know how they say weddings make single women desperate? I have to confess to committing the ultimate wedding cliché.

In my case, seeing so many hot men in tailored suits—my kryptonite—left me helpless to my out-of-control libido. This led me to make sexy eyes at Matt "Man-whore" Taylor all day—and night. First there was the ceremony where I stood opposite him while we watched my sister marry his brother. Then the reception at the posh country club where he gave a rousing best man speech full of sexy grins and smiles, quips and stories.

I was a victim of his charm and had consumed too much champagne, along with the mandatory pre-wedding tequila shot, to defend myself against him.

So I didn't. I was a single, partially drunk woman who had an itch and wanted it scratched. Therefore, when I had the chance—and with everyone else dancing and drinking—I snuck out of the reception hall and made my way toward the bathrooms.

When I got there, Matt hooked his arm around my waist, and pulled me close, kissing me as he dragged me through an open door and closed it with his leg behind him.

In hindsight, it was a stupid decision—probably the worst I've made in a long, long time, even more so than taking Martin Hall's virginity back in my senior year. That went bad because he found out it was out of friendship and sympathy, because I didn't want the hot class geek to leave high school a virgin. Martin wanted more, and I didn't see him as anything other than a friend.

But Matt Taylor's lips against mine, his body against mine, his
very
hard pelvis against mine—all I could think about was getting an orgasm any way possible.

"My dress has a split," I breathed out between kisses.

"Fucking perfect," he said, his voice low and raspy in a way that I felt deep between my legs. Then his hand dipped beneath my blue satin bridesmaid dress, gliding over my skin toward the
V
zone.

To my delight and complete admiration, he hit the golden spot first time around, growling in appreciation at my lack of panties. My head dropped back in total and utter relief the moment he touched my clit because even in my drunken state, I could appreciate that—at the very least—the rumors of his talented whoredom were true.

As he rubbed and curled, and stroked and swirled, he proved without a doubt that he knew what he was doing and exactly what to do to get me there.

I clung to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his tongue plundered my mouth and his magic fingers rocked my world as he rubbed his hard cock against me. Then I felt it, from the tips of my toes to my aching breasts, from my fingertips biting into his skin to the drenched finish line between my legs—my climax hit me like a Mack truck going at warp speed. My entire body convulsing in ecstatic spasms as I screamed his name into his mouth and he groaned long, low, and hard into mine.

In between heaving breaths, he mutters, “That’s one . . .”

“What?” I asked in a hoarse whisper. He didn’t answer for a long time, just stared at me, his eyes full of intense heat.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Thankfully, even in my drunken haze, I knew I’d just put in motion a potential clusterfuck of epic proportions, and damage control—albeit half-hearted at best—needed to be implemented.

“I’ve got to . . . go . . .” I said slowly, thinking on my feet, “. . . see Zoe. She’s leaving soon, and I’ve gotta help her get changed.” And, doing a quick scan of my dress in the dim light of what appeared to be a supply closet, I swung the door open and quickly scampered across the hall to the ladies’ bathroom to freshen up.

When I resurfaced five minutes later—makeup and hair fixed, and dress readjusted—the supply room door was open, but there was no Matt. Weirdly enough, I didn’t see him again for the rest of the night.

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