That was me.
In every way that mattered anyway. I had a close, loving relationship with my parents, my older brother was my hero, and with graduation right around the corner, I was on the verge of turning my love of photography into a career.
Then there was Carter, surprisingly he turned out to be the yin to my yang. Where I was alternative, slightly nerdy and a whole lot awkward, Carter was smooth, popular and confidant. Yet somehow, we fit. Or so I thought.
With the events of one night, the clarity with which I once saw my life vanished. Leaving me completely unprepared for the reality I would now have to face and the choices that accompanied it.
Moving his face down in front of mine he looks me right in the eyes, “It’s not Chance, football isn’t my life like it is for most of the guys. I have,” he pauses, deciding how he should finish his sentence, “other interests, too.”
Looking away from his mesmerising whisky coloured eyes isn’t even an option. I can see the truth of his words in them, but that’s not all I see, he really is attracted to me. I mean, I’m not ugly or anything, but we don’t run in the same crowds. I’m vintage, retro, alternative, and he’s preppy, superior, elite.
When I don’t say anything, he continues, “You’ve been one of those interests for a while now,” he breathes against my parted lips, “When I saw you in the locker room this morning I couldn’t believe my luck.”
I swallow, “I’m not really sure what to say to that,” I tell him honestly. I’m flattered and all, but what the hell is happening right now? It doesn’t make an ounce of sense.
“Say you won’t pull away when I kiss you this time,” he says softly.
My pulse is beating out of control, and my body is humming with need, “Okay,” I agree.
No sooner has the word left my mouth and he’s pressing his soft lips against mine, swiping my bottom lips with his tongue and my hands are clinging to his neck, pulling him closer still. Carter takes my hips and lifts me, putting my butt on the edge of the bench I was backed against, then he’s stepping between my parted thighs.
It’s different from this morning, he’s not trying to devour me. He’s taking his time, his tongue sliding against mine in slow, sensual glides. When he slowly pulls back, his teeth catch my bottom lip and he gently sucks before releasing it.
I’m a panting, turned on, mess, trying to catch my breath after the hottest kiss of my life. And Carter is his usual composed self, grinning at me.
About the Author
J B Heller is an Aussie Indie Author of Steamy Contemporary and Comedic Romance. She has three wildling children, two giant Great Danes, one permanently terrified cat, five birds of various species (One of whom thinks she’s helping by running across the keyboard repeatedly while JB tries to work. Lucky she’s tiny.), and a gazillion fish. Oh, and we can’t forget the man child she calls her husband.
After years of working in assorted fields including a Butchery, Remedial Therapist Receptionist, Hairdressing, and Checkout Chick Extraordinaire, she finally found her place amongst likeminded people in the writing community.
She published her first book in 2013 under the pen name Eliza Brown, and has since evolved into J B Heller with more than 10 titles to her name.
On her limited downtime you’ll find her reading, trolling Pinterest for her next muse or online stationery shopping (she has a mild addiction to stationery and she refuses to seek help.).