Read Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers #1) Online
Authors: Chelsea Camaron,Mj Fields
“I am.”
“Hendrix, you know how lucky you are?”
“I do.”
“You sure?”
“Hell yes, I’m sure, Jared. Do you—”
“I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss that girl before I do.”
And, hell yes, I do. I kiss her, lift her up, and nod to the band that is already set up. When they start playing our song, her tears immediately start falling as the words begin.
I would never let her down. I would never let her walk behind me, always next to me.
“This song okay?”
She nods her head up and down, unable to speak.
I wipe her tears away. “I can’t believe I get to have you forever. I love you, Mrs. Caldwell.”
“I love you, too, Hendrix.”
While we make our way down the makeshift aisle to the bar area, Livi smiles up at me. Then, she looks to my brothers who both nod. She takes my hand and leads me out front where she points up as soon as we exit the door. Where the old sign to my dad’s place once hung is a new sign:
Caldwell’s
Established May 5, 2014
No two stories are the same, but the power of healing and forgiveness is universal.
This is my story of becoming. This is our story of overcoming.
I found good in a world of bad.
A letter to my former self.
Dear Olivia,
I write to you today to tell you that everything is all right.
The confusion about your body experiencing pleasure from touch wasn’t because you were ‘dirty.’ It wasn’t because you were ‘broken.’ Your body naturally reacts to stimulation.
You didn’t ask for it. You didn’t invite it. Hell, you didn’t even know what ‘it’ was.
The age of consent isn’t a number; it’s a birthright. We find our voice to practice that right when we are stronger and more knowledgeable to the world and our bodies.
It is now time that you allow yourself to accept. It is now time to forgive yourself for something beyond your control.
You Survived.
It is time to stop hiding in the darkness of your mind, wondering why you allowed this to happen and realize you didn’t allow it.
It was taken.
Step into the light now, celebrate that instead of falling further down into the rabbit’s hole.
You are stronger than most
.
To the outside world you
are
intelligent and strong.
Classy and Fabulous.
You have learned to allow some people into your darkness to shine a light for your way through. Friends who understood, because they, too, have been violated. They helped you.
Own it. Overcome it.
Gone are the days you lay in bed crying and wondering what is wrong with you. There is
nothing
wrong with you.
You’ve got this, now rock this.
It’s time to help others heal and realize the same.
But never forget…
Consent is fucking required.
Love,
Livi Caldwell
(and her panties)
RAINN-
Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network
1-800-656-HOPE
HPV is the most common sexually transmitted infection in the United States. More than 11,000 women are diagnosed with cervical cancer each year. The CDC recommends that all girls age 11-12 should be vaccinated. For more information on this and other precautions please visit the Center for Disease Control and Prevention’s website listed below.
Chelsea Camaron
Chelsea Camaron was born and raised in Coastal North Carolina. She currently resides in Louisiana with her husband and two children but her heart is always Carolina day dreaming.
Chelsea always wanted to be a writer, but like most of us, let fear of the unknown grab a hold of her dream. She realized that if she was going to tell her daughter to go for her dreams, that it was time to follow her own advice.
Chelsea grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, and from that grew her love for old muscle cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles, which just so happened to inspire her ‘Love and Repair’ and ‘The Hellions Ride’ series. Her love for reading has sparked a new love for writing and she currently has a multiple projects in the works.
When she is not spending her days writing you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book, or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in.
USA Today Best Selling Author
MJ Fields
MJ Field’s love of writing was in full swing by age eight. Together with her cousins, she wrote a newsletter and sold it to family members. She self-published her first New Adult romance in January 2013. Today she has completed four self-published series, The Love series, The Wrapped series, The Burning Souls series, and The Men of Steel series. The Norfolk series has two titles self-published so far and Ties of Steel, Abe and Dominic are available. MJ is a USA Today Best Selling author and former small business owner, who recently closed the business so she could write full time.
MJ lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she would have it no other way.
(unedited and subject to change)
~Hailey~
Suit wearing, slick talking, snake in the grass, bastards. All of them.
This is temporary, just a job. I just have to get through another day.
My feet ache with every step my high heel covered toes have to take. I pull down on my skirt.
Fucking cocktail waitress uniform. These assholes think it is made for easy access. They also think they can touch me wherever, however they want so I can earn my tips. One day, this will be a mere memory, but for now, I have to keep working the casino. This is a means to an end. Thankfully, it is one that pays well, but it damn sure isn’t easy. I can’t let it get me down, though.
Eye on the prize. Get the contacts and get in the underground games. Play a tournament.
Win.
Be done. Debt repaid. Life can then go on.
Momma always said, “The boys won’t like it if you beat ‘em, Hailey Sue. You gotta hustle harder, play smarter, and tip the right man off. Know your place, darlin’.”
“Yeah, Momma, how’d that work out for you?” I mutter to the dry Vegas air around me.
I blow out a frustrated breath as I make my way to my car. You have got to be fucking kidding me right now!
The minute I think this night can’t get any longer, it damn sure does. One of these entitled motherfuckers has parked their car behind mine, blocking me in with no way out. I am sure his Porsche won’t look so good when I leave the imprint of my Nissan’s bumper in the passenger door.
Going over to my car, I unlock the door manually since the keyless entry no longer works.
Annoyance consumes me as I step out of my heels and let my feet hit the gravel beneath me. At this point, I don’t care how dirty it is—my feet hurt, my life is a complete mess, and tonight has been never ending.
I toss my purse into the back as I reach in to grab my duffle bag. Opening it up, I put some sweats on over my skirt, grab an old T-shirt, and cover my pushed up, barely covered tatas then start pulling the pins out of my hair. Once I free my locks from their fancy up-do, I quickly throw it all up in a messy bun on top of my head.
Glamorous, I am not.
Once I have adjusted my look from work life to real life, I wait.
Impatiently, I wait.
If this guy is in a tournament and winning, I could be here all fucking night.
Making my way over to the car impeding my escape, I run my manicured finger over the edge of the beauty.
One day, I will be just like these entitled fucks. One day, I will park my car wherever the hell I please without any regard for it being towed, hit, or stolen.
Must be nice to not care to lose a hundred grand.
I wish money was all that was at stake for me. Some of us can’t be so lucky, though, can we?
I’m tapping my finger on the trunk when I hear a whistle behind me.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off my ride!” A suit wearing prick comes running over.
“Oh, what’s wrong? Afraid you might get a little dirt on precious here? We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I mock him, wiggling a fingernail in the air as I bring it back down onto the car. The acrylic on my nails does nothing to remotely scratch the clear coat of the vehicle, but it does bring the asshole running over.
“Are you fuckin’ crazy? That car cost more than some people’s houses.”
“Crazy? Nope. Pissed the fuck off? You betcha.”
He looks at me, tilting his head to the side as if he is truly studying me.
His hand comes up to his chest in mock pain. “Pissed at me? Why would you be pissed at me, babe?”
“Babe, fucking babe. Do I look like a pig to you?” I look down at my ripped sweats and college shirt then raise my hand to silence him. I do look like a pig. Bottom line, I can’t risk being at war with any underground players. It’s time to swallow my pride yet again. “Don’t answer that. I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot.”
I extend my hand out to him. “I’m Hailey. I work inside and just got off. I came outside, ready to go home … only you seem to have blocked me in.”
His eyes dance in humor as he takes my hand in his, giving me a firm handshake. “Call me Caldwell.”
Morrison
Call me Caldwell, call me big daddy, call me whatever you want as long as those red fucking lips are talking on the bone phone.
After looking at fancily dressed broads all day, even blowing a few off so I could get some sleep tonight, this chick is like an exotic, little, dirty treat. She isn’t dirty in the way you would be led to believe. She doesn’t have a nineteen eighties bush and a stank ass odor that makes me want to vomit in my mouth just thinking about it. I mean, let’s face it; I have tasted my share of week old fish in my day, if you know what I mean. The kind of stank that makes it so unbearable you just have to finish the job with some fake chow action ‘cause you already started.
Her? Her clothes are fucked up, hair messy and shoved in one of those ‘I don’t give a fuck’ hairdos that would normally not be to my liking. Her hair is brown and thick, and I just want to go all Captain Caveman on her and drag her by that thick hair to the nearest rock, bend her over, and fuck it loose.
“You have dinner yet?” I ask, pleading in my head for her to be as unruly as she appears in her damn bare feet on the gravel. Fuck, it would usually bug the hell out of me, but not now. I want to hear her say in a raspy Miley Cyrus voice, ‘Caldwell, I’m starving. Let’s just skip dinner and let me suck you off right here, right now.’
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” She snaps her fingers in my face. “Eyes up here, slick.”
I take my time looking up from her tits. Why rush? I mean, you don’t go the pet store and say, ‘Yeah, I’ll take that one.’ You kind of check out the kitty first.
“Hey, slick, there isn’t a chance in hell I’m letting a guy like you try to wine and dine me. So, why not—”
I hold up a finger. “Shh … I was just thinking about dessert.”
“Is that so? What makes you think I’d let you?”
I finally look into her eyes to see she is chewing on her lip. “Let me? I wasn’t thinking about me, babe. I was thinking about the Caldwell cocktail I was gonna let you sample.”
She lets out an annoyed laugh. “Yeah, well, I was just thinking pretty boy must have been turned down by the socialites in there, so let me give you some advice. They look at you and see a guy who spends just as much time in front of the mirror as they do. They’re thinking, ‘Damn, he’s hot, but with a face like that, he probably isn’t a giver.’ So, while you were thinking about me sucking you off, I was thinking about how my pussy grinding on your face might just teach you a lesson about how a woman really just wants a man to be a fucking man.”
“I’m all man.”
“I bet.” She barks out a laugh.
“You’re chewing on your lip, your nipples are hard, your pussy is probably soaked…” She doesn’t stop me, so I keep going, “You wanna fuck me just as much as I want to fuck you.”
“I like to fuck, but again, I want a man between my legs to make sure taking off my clothes isn’t a waste of time.”
“I’m afraid that, when I reach down there, I might find a set of balls.”
“Why don’t you come over here and check it out?” she dares.
It takes me all of ten seconds to have her pressed to the hood of my car. As soon as I reach between her legs, her hand is already on my cock.
Shit is going down.
Now.