STOUT : A Lovibond Novel
by Georgia Cates
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A beautiful neighbor. A complete stranger. That’s all she was when I moved in next door.
Adelyn Maxwell is my neighbor but she’s no girl next door. The more I come to know her, the more I discover she’s a good girl with a lovely dark side. And maybe I don’t want her to stay on her side of the fence.
I want to disturb the rhythm of her pulse.
I want to see the way her hair spills on the bed when she lies beneath me.
I want her to teach me the dirty pretty things she desires behind closed doors. And she does.
But mostly I want to leave my mark on the most intimate, untouched part of her body. Her heart.
A seemingly insignificant intersection of our lives neither of us recalls suddenly becomes a pivotal moment in our future. We aren’t strangers at all. And our paths aren’t crossing for the first time.
These twists and turns of fate will become one of two things: a wrecking ball to tear us apart or the connection to bond us together forever.
Oliver Thorn’s POV
Adelyn is highly responsive to my touch. I expected sensitivity since she hasn’t had sex in so long, but she exceeded any and all of my expectations.
Bringing her to orgasm that easily was a beautiful thing. And it won’t be the last time I do it tonight.
“Shit, that was magnificent.” I press a kiss to her inner thigh but it’s only a brief goodbye. I plan to come back. Soon. And hopefully often if she’ll let me.
I crawl up her body, kissing the ivory skin over her stomach, breasts, neck. I’m glad she didn’t turn off the light like so many chicks do. And I’m happy she isn’t hiding her scars from me. I love looking at her; she’s stunning. The most beautiful redhead I’ve ever seen.
She presses her fingers to my lips. “I’ve been looking at this mouth for weeks wondering, fantasizing, about what it would feel like between my legs.”
“I hope I didn’t disappoint.”
She rubs her thumb over my bottom lip. “Not possible.”
Adelyn’s knees are bent, legs apart. Open invitation. My body presses against hers. Nothing between us. It would be so damn easy to forget the condom, enter her, and worry about the consequences later.
But of course that’s not what I do.
I stop and grab one of the condoms off the nightstand. Adelyn strains her neck to see over her tits and bites the end of her index finger as she watches me roll on the latex sheath. Her wide-eyed stare makes my cock even harder. Bigger. I feel like a fucking rock star. “Like what you see, Max?”
“I love what I see but I’d much rather feel it.”
“Good. It wants to feel you too.” I move from kneeling between her legs to pressing my body on top of hers. She parts her legs wide and my cock finds its way to her entrance without any guidance from my hand. No surprise there.
I slide into her easily so I go for the deep plunge. All the way. I love the sound of her gasp-then-moan in my ear.
I feel like I should give her a moment to acclimate to having a dick inside her for the first time in years, but I see it’s unnecessary when she tilts her hips to allow me deeper access.
“Fuck me, Thorn.” She trembles and closes her eyes tightly while biting her bottom lip.
I thought Adelyn would want it slow. Sweet. Gentle. I was prepared to give that to her. But she wants to fuck. Hard.
No complaints here. Can give her that.
I drive into her hard and with total domination. Every stroke deliberate. Fierce.
I move faster and thrust as deeply as her body will allow. Her legs circle my waist but we don’t stay like that long before I grab her thighs and push them back and apart. I move to my knees and sink into her so hard and deep she’ll be reminded all day tomorrow who was here inside her tonight.
She reaches for my arm and pulls, cueing me to lower my upper body. This position feels great for me but I guess it isn’t the best for her.
I heed her cue and lie down on top of her again. Her fingers follow the length of my arm until they find my hand. She grips my wrist and brings my palm to her neck.
It’s an odd position. I have to shift my body so my free arm bears the majority of my weight. No woman wants to be suffocated during sex.
“Don’t stop. Keep fucking me.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, baby.” No way I’d stop. Being inside Adelyn Maxwell feels too fucking good.
She puts her hand on top of mine and places them both on her neck. Our eyes lock as I thrust in and out of her. “Squeeze it.”
How do I squeeze her hand when it’s on top of mine? “Huh?”
She repositions my palm around the side of her neck and presses my fingers and hand against her skin. “Hold me down. Own me. Show me I’m yours in this moment.”
I slow my thrusts despite how close I am to getting off. Because I’m confused about what’s happening here.
“Don’t stop. Keep fucking me.”
I look at my hand, and Adelyn’s, wrapped around her throat. And then I gaze into those pleading hazel eyes. “It’s okay, Thorn. I want you to do it. I need you to.”
And it clicks.
Need? No one needs to be choked. And that’s what she’s asking me to do to her.
I can’t war with myself about this right now. I’m so close to coming. Fuck, I just want . . . to get off. Need it . . . so bad.
I lower my body and press my forehead against Adelyn’s, my hand still wrapped around her throat, as I slide in and out of her. She uses her hand to tighten my hold on her neck. “I want you to own me. Control me.”
I tighten my grip, holding Adelyn in place by her throat, and drive into her as I come harder than I have since . . . ever.
“I’m coming again. So fucking hard.” I feel the vibration of her vocal cords, and it’s a reality check. My hand is wrapped around her lifeline. Squeezing.
I plunge hard one last time and then sink over Adelyn when the condom is filled and I’m completely empty.
Fuck. I’ve never gotten off so hard. Never. But what in the hell just happened?
I lift my face from her shoulder. “What the fuck was that?”
“Our worlds colliding.” Adelyn grasps the back of my head and pulls me down. Her mouth takes complete possession of mine. Until she smiles and it breaks the contact between our lips. “That was sooo good.”
I can’t argue it being good. Hell, it was fucking awesome. But my big hand was wrapped around her small throat. Squeezing. “Max. I was choking you while we fucked.”
Adelyn Maxwell’s POV
“Are you all right?”
I see what I think is concern in Oliver’s eyes. “Not at all.”
Oliver comes to me, takes the dish towel from my hand and tosses it onto the counter. “I want you to leave that nipping son of a bitch here and go for a ride with me on my bike.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle?”
“Are you afraid?”
“No.” Yes. But not of metal and rubber or the speed in which the two will carry us.
“Then go for a ride with me. We’ll cruise around the block and if you don’t like it, I’ll bring you right back. Promise.”
I look at Oliver’s attire and then mine. Shorts and tank top probably aren’t ideal for riding. “Give me a minute to change.”
“Okay.” He grabs a biscuit. “Saving these for anyone?”
“No. Have as many as you like. Jam is in the fridge.”
I return wearing faded skinny jeans, a fitted black V-neck T-shirt, black combat boots. I have no intention of brushing my hair for an hour to remove a bazillion knots so I go with a fishtail braid. “Ready.”
“Wow. You look like one badass chick.” I hold out my foot to better display the lace-up boots Maurice calls shit-kickers. “But you don’t just look the part. You are a real badass.” Oliver’s words are a reminder of last night’s blunder.
“Yeah, about that.” Do I own it and roll with the badass perception he has of me? Or do I apologize for going there? Was it TMI?
I can’t decide so the words don’t come.
“I understand more about what influenced your decision than you might think. Don’t be sorry you told me. And don’t be freaking out about it.”
“I’m not freaking out about it.” Lie. Lie. Lie.
He points at the spread of baked goods that says otherwise. “You are totally freaking out about telling me. But don’t. If there’s anyone who gets it, it’s me.”
If there’s anyone who gets it, it’s me. Something has happened to this man. He knows pain. “Tell me about it.”
I don’t have to flesh it out. He knows what I’m asking for.
Hook, line, and sinker. I’m sucked into the storm spinning out of control behind the dilated blackness of his blue eyes.
What I see there confirms I’m right. Something bad has happened to Oliver Thorn.
“I’ll tell you. But first, we ride.”
Dark stealth. Glossy black rims. Polished to perfection. I’ve seen Oliver’s bike from next door but it’s a much more impressive-looking piece of machinery up-close. “It’s lovely.”
He stops and stares at me. “It’s a custom Ducati Monster 821 Dark. It’s not lovely. It’s badass.” I giggle. Boys and their toys.
“It’s a lovely badass.”
“Maybe you’re the lovely badass.” Damn. There’s that smile again. I bet he can use it to get anything he wants from women.
Lovely. I’m accustomed to compliments from men. I’m often told I’m sexy. Pretty. Beautiful. I once took pleasure in hearing those things from men, especially Martin, but now I receive those words with a grain of salt. And I will this time as well since I’m unsure if Oliver makes a habit of using flattery on women.
However, badass strikes a different chord in me; it’s a reminder of the things I told Oliver last night. All my wrongdoings.
He holds up a black leather jacket. “It’ll get a little cool even though it’s May. Especially if we’re still out after dark.”
I turn and slip my arms into the sleeves. I spin around and he surprises me by closing the zipper teeth and pulling the clasp upward until it stops at my breasts. “A little snug.”
I suck in but it makes my chest rise bigger. No way the zipper is going any further like that.
It’s obvious the jacket belongs to a woman smaller than me. “Guess my boobs are bigger than your ex-girlfriend’s.”
“Breathe out and relax your shoulders.” He pulls the leather together and then yanks the zipper clasp up and over my D-cups. “Your boobs are bigger than my sister’s. This is her jacket.”
“Oh.” I smile on the inside, not daring to let him see me delight in him noticing my boobs. Or my relief in knowing he hasn’t put me in something belonging to an old girlfriend.
“Next.” I take the all-black helmet he offers and slip it over my head. I study the outline of his facial hair as he works on adjusting my chinstrap.
“I feel like a little girl being dressed by her daddy.”
He grins but avoids my eyes. “There’s so much I could say to that.”
“I suppose there is.”
“Despite being squeezed like I’m wearing a corset, yeah.”
He grins and grabs the end of my braid, twirling the end around his finger. “I love red hair. It’s my favorite.”
Oliver Thorn is touching my hair, twirling my hair. My red hair, which he says is his favorite. Do not pant so he can hear you, Adelyn.
I wondered if he intended for lovely badass to be flirtatious. But there’s no questioning this.
He’s insinuated he has demons in his past, which give him the ability to understand my actions, but he must see I’m a little unhinged emotionally. It isn’t possible to miss.
“I once despised it. I used to bleach it blonde with drugstore hair color.”
“Never. Do. That. Again.” There’s an alpha-like tone in his voice. Almost growly. And it sends a sharp tingle down my body. I haven’t felt that in years, and I welcome it.
MY REVIEWThese Lovibond men are crafty to more than beer! Although Oliver Thorn plays around, he is not a player as much as a man in retreat from love.
Adelyn is somewhat in the same boat. Being next door neighbors makes life difficult because the attraction between Adelyn and Oliver is like dynamite. Scorching fire flows from these pages and you will be spellbound to read this book and finish it in one sitting.
My test for a great book is 1) am I smiling while I am reading the book and 2) do I walk around clutching my Kindle looking for a second to continue reading the book I cannot put down. Easy peasy this one is a winner!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.
When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.
Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Georgia-Cates/e/B005RQM69U/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1412959384&sr=8-2-ent
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Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/Pm8QS