Good morning my lovelies.
Today, I wanted to give you a little snippet of BRANDON AND CARLA. I’ve been working on this because someone told me my characters need work. They needed a connection. Carla Roy didn’t have it easy in life. She has her demons to deal with, but they are at bay, in a loveless relationship, taking control of her life back. When an unexpected stranger comes to her defence, she can’t understand how he can make her feel things she had never experienced before with only one touch.
Have you ever wished you were somewhere else? I’ve been going to these events with my boyfriend for over ten years, and I still hate them. Being in the spotlight was not my thing, yet James flourished in it. He thrived on the attention, the conversation, the who’s or who’s. Yet, here I was, attempting to avoid small talk while drinking this delicious wine and planning my future. My future, whatever that might be.
I sighed, irritated, and wished the leach beside me would stop groping me. The man stank of whiskey. A man in his sixties should reframe himself if he cannot hold his liquor. He was trying to keep my annoyance to myself, avoiding confrontation with anyone. If there’s one thing I despise, it’s drunk people with wandering hands. “Please, sir, do not touch me.” I cringed and tried to move away, but he leaned toward me. Part of me wanted to take this glass of fine wine and throw it in his face, and walk away. I might consider it if he doesn’t stop.
I sipped my wine again, attempting to block out everything around me. I was unhappy with my life and wished for something greater. Is having children, a family, and a husband too much to ask? Staying in this relationship with James will not help me achieve my goal. Love someone you bring the best out of you, your goals, your dreams, challenges you to be the best you can be, but most of all, having a partner who stands with you and is at your side. Don’t abandon yourself at a bar with older men who had too much to drink.
Tonight demonstrates a point: James, my so-called boyfriend. James Summer had one thing on his mind, becoming a partner at the business where he works. Tonight’s fundraiser was to see if he might join the ranks of the elite status, or so he wished. I am entirely uninterested in money is not everything, but to James, it was. Money doesn’t buy happiness.
The ideal date is what I was to James. Smile frequently and speak out when necessary. I never felt like I belonged in this world where you could smell how wealthy people are. I hated being on display. I’d rather wear jeans and a t-shirt than this dress. Well, hatred is a vast word. I liked the dress I was wearing; it was sexy; all I ever wanted was for James to open his eyes and see me. The real me, see how unhappy I am. I can’t remember the last time we had sex. It’s unfortunate but true.
My anxieties and insecurities have always been my weakness, and being this quiet girl who never spoke up and told others what she thought. Except for this asshole next to me that started to get under my skin. “Sir, so help me, God, I want to enjoy this glass of wine, so if you touch me one more time, I’m going to belt you,” I was astonished at myself for uttering such a thing, but my inner voice told me, You go girl, deck this motherfucker.
I gazed over the bar mirror, hoping James would rush to my aid. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t. When I saw him with a brunette, my heart ached. He was wrapping his arm around her waist. Her cleavage was higher than Mount Everest, and her bustier revealed more cleavage. I looked down at my own, which seemed to be the same size except for one difference. Mine were genuine. I watched him murmur something into her ear and realized how much of a jerk he was. An asshole who cheats. Doesn’t he know how people talk? Didn’t James know people talk and chat with me here and his peers nearby? James cheating has been going on for far too long.
Most nights, as he walked into the house, I smelled perfume on his clothing and saw lipstick on his collar. I wasn’t a fool, but I wouldn’t say I liked being fooled by one.
James was two years older than I was. We were young and in love when we met, or so I thought. Life has not been easy for me. I was eight years old when my father died; I was daddy’s little girl. Mom didn’t handle his passing well. Mom deteriorated—the use of a drug and the constant beatings. We moved around a lot and in areas, I’d rather forget. I was glad for my friends back then; they saved me.
Meeting Megan Harrison in high school changed my life. I don’t think I would have made it without her. I will be eternally thankful to Megan and her family. Being a part of her family made certain days easier to bear. I assumed we’d be friends forever, but after high school, she worked for her dad, then moved off to college and university, and we lost touch. I met James through our mutual acquaintances that summer. We got along well and had a good time together. Young and in love, he made me feel safe.
James and I were inseparable and happy; was it love? We’d been dating for three months; trusting a guy or men wasn’t easy, but I trusted James. James escorted me to my mother’s apartment on my eighteenth birthday when he discovered all my possessions at the door and the vacant flat.
I turned to James and started weeping. He was my strength at the lowest in my life. He took me in, and we made it work. I was madly in love.
“What is a pretty girl like you sitting alone at a bar?”
That’s it! I shoved this arrogant drunk older man away from me once more. “I told you to leave me alone. Get your filthy hands off of me, you disgusting old man.” I slammed my glass on the bar ahead of me. I had enough and slapped him across the face. I watched him stumble. I cursed as the sting hit my face. Son-of-a-bitch, I’m not a brave person by nature, but I’m tired of men like him hitting on me.
My eyes widened as I heard him say. “You, bitch.” his words slurred, and I watched his hand go back. I moved around a little before his hand made contact with my face. When a hand stopped his movement, he was pulled from his stool and fell to the floor.
“Mariotto, don’t you fucken dare, and did you hear the lady?”
As I heard his rich, baritone voice with such force, I gasped as he yanked this man from his seat next to mine. I could see the man’s rage as he lay on the floor looking at this stranger. I turned to the voice that piqued my interest. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but I could sense the tension between both men. I moved, trying to intervene. I was dizzy with the aroma of this man’s cologne as I tried to reach out and touch him. I was relieved that someone came to my rescue, saving me from a drunk who didn’t understand the meaning of the word no. MY HERO, someone finally cared enough about me to listen to my plea.
I could see his profile face since I was standing slightly behind him. My hand reached up and touched his forearm and the tense muscle beneath my hand. I couldn’t help but notice how well his tuxedo fit him. He’s tall, with short black hair, and an athlete, from his broad shoulder to his slender waistline, and I can only imagine how his butt would appear. I groaned, understanding that James had never filled out a tuxedo like this stranger, nor had he ever stood to protect me. This alpha male came to my aid, guarding me and removing these godforsaken leeches. It only showed me that James was unconcerned about my well-being.
My thoughts about this man compelled me to spring off my seat and strip him naked. I hadn’t ever imagined having such thoughts, but his calm persuaded me that he knew how to pleasure a woman.
I fantasized about ripping off this man’s clothes, immersed in those exotic thoughts, a puddle of moisture at my core. I was no sexy vixen, and I knew his type. Classy, elegant, blond, you know, the sort of woman that spends hours making herself flawless. Not me!
I understood the basics of sex, but I’d read enough adult romance to know I wasn’t the kind of woman that enjoyed having sex. James was never a giver, simply a taker who I served as a stress release for him.
We’ve been absent for months. I’d cry in the shower because it was so terrible; I didn’t enjoy it, but James ignored me, not caring about my feelings or needs. I felt I wasn’t good enough for him. Regain my thought leading me back to the current situation.
As I heard him remark, “security, remove him and make sure he doesn’t come back in.”
He turned and looked down at me, and my lungs were burning. I thought I had stopped breathing, as I couldn’t help but glance up into blue eyes. The only explanation is that this is a dream, and I’ve died.
I swayed forward, holding his bicep. His expression was concerned as he searched my eyes, and I believe he could see my darkest secrets. I now understand what it meant to view someone’s soul. So when his ocean blues peered down at me, I shivered. God, his dark complexion and beautiful black lashes made his eyes shine. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was curious about what this man could do to my body. I wanted to reach and touch him, lose myself in this man’s kiss, and yearn to touch him.
I took a big breath and realized what I had done was wrong. The man’s aftershave, musky scent enveloped my senses and sent chills up my spine. I reached up and caressed his stubbled face as if the world around me didn’t exist. I couldn’t help but become absorbed by his piercing stare. My future lay in front of me through his eyes for a second. I had an overwhelming need for everything this man had to offer. I couldn’t help but pull toward him, and my heart stopped beating when I looked at him. He leaned towards my touch, never losing contact with me. His lips were soft and delectable as he kissed my hand; I tilted my head in astonishment, and my life would never be the same. Someone cared for me.
God, this simple gesture seemed so personal, and my body reacted immediately to him. I was watching his every move. It was gentle but not overpowering. How could one man, a stranger I’d never met before, impact me? His gaze followed every movement I made, an unsaid want, a hunger. I knew what his touch was doing to me. I can feel the liquid heat rising at my core. I didn’t know him, but I would go to any length for him. I was having someone advocate for me. My fears about guys are affecting me. He stepped in when I needed it, My savour, and no one had ever protected me before. What could I say to him as my wicked fantasies about him, being nude, and seeing my future unfolded? Thoughts I couldn’t imagine.
“Such beauty shouldn’t be sitting alone?” his voice was husky, filled with want.
My only idea was to remove every layer of clothing and discover what was below. That did it, and when I heard the voice, my ovaries went into overdrive. Being close to this stranger aggravated my throbbing clit. I clench my thighs together, hoping he doesn’t see what he’s doing to me. I bit the inside of my cheek to divert the ache elsewhere. Time stood still, and I required all of my inner strength to say anything to him. “I appreciate it.” I smiled at him, but it meant so much more; it was as if he knew my innermost secrets, yet he didn’t.
“A pretty lady shouldn’t be drinking alone in a place where leeches are present, right?” He motioned to security, leading the drunk next to me out the door. “Bourbon and the lady will have.”
“Merlot?” I couldn’t believe he was sitting next to me as I whispered my drink of choice.
“So what is going on in that pretty little head of yours? And where is your husband, boyfriend?”
I take a sip of wine, not knowing what or think I should start a conversation with him. I shake my head. “Thinking of my future.”
He leaned against me, his arm touching me subtly, but I could feel his warmth through his tux. “What do you see in your future?”
“That is a good question. I yet to figure out.” I tell him in true honesty.
“I know that if you were mine, you wouldn’t be here alone. There’s slime everywhere, but if you were mine, you’d be at my side. Where other guys would not dare to touch you.”
His mesmerizing voice was low and seductive, and the fact that I was sitting alone at the bar upset him. He is correct. I’d been fighting a struggle within myself for months, if not years. James didn’t love me, and I didn’t love him either. I looked over my shoulder and saw James encircling a Brunette. I gazed at him, ashamed of what others may think. Would people feel sorry for me, knowing my partner is a jerk who flirts with everyone but me? I’m no longer a victim, and this has to stop tonight.
Turning to see him sip the rest of his amber beverage. He leaned up close, his thumb caressing my lips. The whiskey odour from his breath was so near to my mouth. His lips are only a few inches away from mine. I close my eyes, and his lips meet mine as if by magic, and I taste him on my lips. Sweet mother of God, the man can kiss. I moan as I open for him and taste his tongue on mine. Dear heaven, he takes charge and grabs my neck, kissing me as I’ve never kissed. It’s delicate, and at that moment, I want it all. He lets go, and I’m dizzy as he leans close to my ear.
“Sunshine, say the word?” Your beauty, your smile, light up a room. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You don’t see what I see; every man in this room has been staring at you all night, and yet I’m the one here to save you. I’ll take you away with one word: gorgeous. That man of yours does not deserve you.”
Oh my God, I died and went to paradise on several occasions. I opened my eyes to retrieve my thoughts, and nothingness filled me. I desperately wanted what that man desired to offer me. I lost the sensation of his warmth and breath on my ear, like a shadow or ghost. I craved his kisses on my flesh. So when I turned back and found an empty glass on the counter. I raised my head and noticed a guy walking away, but at the last second, he turned and grinned, then winked at me. Never in my wildest thoughts did I imagine someone wielding such control over me. Who was he?
He seemed familiar, but I didn’t recognize him. Who was he? All I remember is the drunk saying Pierce. Was that his first name or last night? And why do I think I recognize him? Tonight would affect my life forever. I raised my glass of wine in quiet prayer, asking for strength, and understood what I had to do. To new beginnings, wherever the path may lead. I’m still feeling his lips on mine.
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I hope you all enjoy this snippet. Have a terrific TUESDAY.