All I Want, book two in the Alabama Summer series, is set to release on 11/24/14.
I know… I’m as ready for Luke as you are. <3
To help calm your tits (I’ve always wanted to use that expression), here is the prologue for you to feast your pretty little eyes on.
This is unedited, so be gentle.
Fuck. I am desperate for some dick.
Welcome to Ignite. It’s how hot people meet.
Is it? Is this really how hot people are meeting?
Twelve months, Tessa. It’s been twelve months since you’ve gotten laid. You need this.
I stare at my computer screen, having finally gotten up the nerve to type in the online dating website link that Mia gave me. Her Aunt has apparently been extremely successful on here, finding her current boyfriend after only having to go through two duds. And by the looks of the happy faces smiling at me on my screen with the little conversational bubbles above them, informing users like me of their amazing experiences with Ignite, I might actually get lucky on here.
Please enter a username. It’s the first step in the direction toward your destiny.
“My destiny, huh?”
My dick destiny?
I decide on something simple and quickly type in my selection.
Twelve, because if I’m on this stupid site for a whole month and come up with nothing, bringing my grand total up to thirteen solid months of no ass, I’m out. And at that point, I have no idea what I’m going to do. Because I’ve exhausted all the other standard ways to meet guys. Bars. Clubs. My brother’s wedding. I’m completely out of options here. Trying to find a decent guy in Ruxton is like trying to find a virgin in a whore house. So, I’m willing to give this a go, but only for a month.
I press the arrow and the page turns, taking me to a different screen.
Welcome, TK12. Tell us a little about yourself.
I’m going to assume that only putting down ‘I’m looking to get laid by someone who isn’t a complete asshole’ will most likely draw undesirable attention. Besides, having sex isn’t the only thing that matters to me. If it was, I would’ve been set with Luke asshole Evans. Fucking was the only thing he cared about during our three wasted months together. And because he was stellar at it, I tried to convince myself, and anyone that asked, that I didn’t need more than what he was giving me. Which, looking back, wasn’t much. He was private about everything, except his body. That he didn’t mind sharing. But personal stuff; stuff you normally share with the person you’re dating, or whatever we were doing, that stuff was off limits. After three months, I hardly knew anything about him besides what everyone else knew.
He was a cop.
He grew up in Canton, Alabama.
And he loved raw cookie dough.
Okay, so that last fact could be taken as something personal, but I only knew that because he always had packs of those pre-made, break-a-part, cookie dough squares in his fridge and he snacked on them when I was around. But that’s it. The most intimate detail I knew about the man I was completely crazy about was that he didn’t mind possibly contracting salmonella poisoning. Anytime I asked about his childhood or his family, he’d distract me with sex or dodge the question. But even though he kept me at a distance, I still felt more connected to Luke than any other man I’d been with. And I thought he felt it too.
He didn’t. He didn’t care about me. Not like I did him.
Looking back on it now, I’m glad I had the pregnancy scare with him. It made me ask the important ‘do you ever see yourself having a family of your own’ question. Which was what I wanted. And I thought I could have it with Luke. But he didn’t want that. He never saw himself having what my brother had. So, I ended it, thinking I was pregnant but keeping him ignorant to that tiny detail. Hours later when I discovered I wasn’t, I wanted to feel relief. Relief that I wouldn’t have to go through it alone. But I didn’t. I wanted that baby, and I wanted it with Luke.
And while I’ve been celibate, not by choice, for the past twelve months since I ended things with him, he’s probably been whoring it up around Ruxton, sticking his dick into anything with a pulse. Luckily though, I’ve managed to avoid him, only having to see him during Ben and Mia’s wedding, which took place two months ago.
That was an awkward nightmare.
Nothing like taking a moment to get some air during the reception, and stumbling upon your ‘ex-whatever the hell he was’, getting sucked off by some nameless skank. I couldn’t just ignore that, not when I practically tripped over it. He didn’t deserve to come. He never deserves to come again. And if I wasn’t getting lucky at that wedding, then why the hell should he?
It was the cock block of the century.
Jesus. Fuck, no.
There are absolutely zero good looking men at this thing. Besides Reed, who disappeared an hour ago with some giggly brunette, and the man I refuse to acknowledge. Weddings are supposed to be a breeding ground for nameless hookups, and I’m shit out of luck at this one. So instead of getting drilled in a concealed corner somewhere, my dress bunched around my waist as a stranger becomes familiar with my sounds, I’ve had to find other ways to pass the time.
Hit up the open bar.
Eat more cake.
Dance with Nolan.
Get cake with Nolan.
Steal Mia away from Ben.
Watch Mia get carried off by Ben.
And now this.
Sitting at an empty table, watching as Ben, Mia, and Nolan all slow dance together. Nolan’s in between them, rubbing Mia’s growing baby bump, while Ben can’t seem to keep his eyes off his new wife. I’m crazy happy for them, but right now, I can’t watch them share another perfect family moment in front of me. I need a break from this. Just a few minutes to get some air.
I step out of the tent and head across the lawn toward the Estate House. I’m walking aimlessly, not having any destination in mind. I just need to get away from all the love for a second. Love is great when you’re with someone. It’s better when it’s reciprocated. But it fucking sucks when that shit is one-sided.
And that’s the only way I’ve known it.
I walk down the side of the building and turn right to go around the back. As soon as I round the corner, I see him.
Leaning against the building behind some shrubs, head back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. His sandy brown hair is cut shorter than normal, almost buzzed completely, and it does really annoying things to his face. Like show it off more. Those ridiculously gorgeous features of his are on display for my eyes right now, and I don’t have to avert my gaze because he doesn’t know I’m watching. He has no idea I’m staring at his sharp, angular cheek bones, the fullness of his mouth, or the bump at the bridge of his nose that I see as this perfect imperfection. He broke it when he was little, broke it again years later, and now it’s permanently misshapen.
And I fucking love it.
His face tenses as his arms move to the front of his body, and I let my eyes roam to the reason behind it.
The blonde I recognize from the wedding is on her knees with his cock lodged in her mouth, deep throating it until she gags. His hands are in her hair, encouraging her. Pulling her closer until she practically swallows him whole. I lift my eyes to that face I was just secretly admiring seconds ago. No longer tempting me to keep my presence unknown. Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let this shit happen right now.
Fuck him and his face.
I step in front of the bush and make a fist, clearing my throat into it. Luke’s eyes shoot open and he grabs the blonde’s head, sliding her off his cock. She releases it with a pop and a grunt of disappointment. Because, apparently, she isn’t finished. But she looks pretty fucking finished to me.
Luke tucks himself away quickly. “What the fuck, Tessa? What are you doing?”
I look from him to the blonde. “Oh, sweetie. You might want to go disinfect. He’s got the herp.”
Slutty blonde parts her lips as if she’s waiting for another cock. She stands and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring in Luke’s direction. “Oh my God. Are you serious? You have herpes!”
Luke’s wide eyes train on mine. “What? No I don’t!”
“He’s really sweet about it though,” I say, looking sympathetically at the blonde. “He pays for my Valtrex every month.” I turn my eyes to Luke, letting out a swooning sigh. “So romantic.”
Blonde shoves against Luke’s chest. “You’re disgusting.”
“I don’t have fucking herpes!” Luke adamantly vows as he tightens his belt.
I watch, basking in my victory, as blonde trudges through the grass, getting her heel caught in the process. She stumbles a bit, glares at Luke over her shoulder, and disappears around the corner.
“I can’t fucking believe you just did that,” Luke says, prompting me to whip my head around to look at him. He buttons his suit jacket up and steps closer. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
What happened between us.
And the fact that you’ve obviously moved on without any difficulty.
I close the gap and he freezes, his hand flattening against his jacket. My gaze flicks from his crotch to his face, and I mask all the hurt of seeing this asshole with another woman behind the fakest smile I’ve ever worn.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. You, on the other hand, might want to go to the clinic. If you didn’t have an STD before that whore touched you, I’m sure you have one now.”
I turn and storm away before he can give me a comeback. But more importantly, before he can see the smile fading from my lips.
And that’s how you handle an awkward situation with your ex. Pretend it doesn’t bother you.
I rub my eyes and focus on the blank description box in the middle of my screen. It doesn’t need to be lengthy. It can be short and sweet, like me.
I’m Tessa Kelly. Twenty-four years old and living in Ruxton, Alabama. I like sex, but I want it with someone who isn’t just in it to get laid. I’m not looking for a one night stand. If that’s you, don’t contact me.
There. Straight forward. No confusion. Oh shit. One other important detail.
If your job requires you to wear a uniform, keep moving.
I click the arrow button and the next screen pops up, prompting me to answer a few simple questions. What gender and age group am I interested in. How far am I willing to travel. I type in my answers and click the arrow.
TK12, you’re almost finished! Please describe your ideal mate.
Well, now’s the time to be honest. I’m not usually the type to sugar coat anything so why start here.
Marriage material, who would like to eventually have kids, and can fuck like a champion.
Yup. That should definitely catch someone’s attention. Hopefully the right someone. I’m sure there is a surplus of weirdos patrolling this website for potential obsessions. But that doesn’t worry me. I can take care of myself. Just not in the way that is forcing me to create a dating profile.
Congratulations, TK12! Once you upload your profile picture, you’ll be added to our database and users will be able to contact you. Please follow the guidelines listed below for file requirements.
I minimize the window and scroll through my picture folders. I have a ton on here with files going all the way back to high school. But I need a recent photo. And my most recent ones are the pictures I took at Ben and Mia’s wedding. I hover the arrow over the folder, ready to click, when I see it.
The folder I forgot about.
I don’t want to open it. I don’t need to open it. But I do and I have no idea why. And then the photos are filling my screen. Ones of the two of us taken, selfie style, and ones that I took of him when he didn’t know it. Those were always my favorite. That comfortable look of his, so different from the look he had when he knows I’m watching him. When he knows every girl is watching him. He has this cockiness that plays on his features, and when I see it, it drives me completely insane with lust. I swear to Christ, that look is directly connected to my pussy. One glance and I’m on my back, assuming the position.
Luke Evans knows how attractive he is and uses that to his advantage. He can sit back and wait for girls to come to him if he wants to, picking them off like fish in a barrel. But that swaggering look isn’t the one that I liked to capture when I snuck pictures of him. It wasn’t the look of his that had me thinking about things I’ve never thought of with other guys. It isn’t the look I’m currently staring at.
He’s concentrating on something, the TV I think, while I sit a few feet away. His one hand is tucked under his chin while the other rests on my foot that’s in his lap. His light hair is sticking up a bit, and he looks relaxed in a worn t-shirt. He didn’t know I was watching him so he wasn’t trying to make me want him with his typical teasing smile and fuck me stare.
It was this look that got me every time. This settled down look that made me imagine him on my couch several years from now, doing absolutely nothing and being perfectly content with that. But this look was just another one of his lies. Another way to manipulate me into believing what we had meant something to him. And I fell for it, just like all the other stupid fish.
I close down the folder and right click it, bringing up my options. And I don’t hesitate. I click delete and confirm my decision, sending the folder out of my picture file. I find a picture of myself that Mia took with my camera at her wedding. I’m smiling and it’s remarkably genuine, which is surprising considering who attended that wedding and how nervous I was about seeing him. My auburn hair is curling over my shoulders, half up in an elegant twist. I choose this one because it’s the most recent picture I have of myself, and because I look really happy in it. Of course I was happy. My brother made my best friend a permanent part of my family that day. I’d never have to say goodbye to her again. She looked so beautiful with her finally noticeable baby bump that Nolan kept touching during the ceremony. And when my nephew didn’t have his hands on her belly, Ben did.
It’s how he’ll always be with her.
Love. It suits the two of them.
I saw it in Mia’s eyes when she tried desperately to ignore her feelings toward my brother at the beginning of last summer. When she tried to hold onto the hate she was so comfortable with feeling and not let herself feel anything different. And I would’ve supported that hate, but I knew Ben. I knew how great of a guy he had become and how perfect he would be for Mia. I saw his affection for her. The way he looked at her like nobody else existed. And I knew that he would’ve done anything to prove himself to her.
Even going the friend route, which I honestly did not see coming.
But it worked. And once Mia got to know my brother for the man he had become, she opened herself up to all those other feelings that were brewing just beneath the surface. I knew it wouldn’t take long. Not with the undeniable attraction the two of them had to each other.
You can hate someone until you’re blue in the face, but that doesn’t take away the desire that brews in your gut at the mere sight of them.
I know a little bit about that struggle myself. Luckily, I’ve managed to keep my distance.
I upload my photo and the screen takes me to a list of possible matches. I scan their faces quickly. Some look promising, but I didn’t join this dating service to patrol for penis like some cock whore. They can come to me. If someone’s interested, they can contact me.
I’m still a lady, Goddamn it, and I’d like to be pursued.
Just as I’m about to log off and shut down my computer, a message pops up on my screen.
CaptainMike would like to connect with you.
Captain, huh? He looks good in his picture so I click accept, opening up his message.
CaptainMike: Hey, beautiful. Where the hell have you been hiding?
I sit back with a smile, pulling my knees up to my chest. Less than one minute online and I already have a potential date. And I was worried this would take more than a month.
Why the hell didn’t I do this sooner?
I keep my response short.
TK12: Hi. It’s nice to meet you, Mike. I’m Tessa.
The little bubbles pop up, indicating that he’s typing.
CaptainMike: Send me a shot of them titties. You barely gave me cleavage in your profile pic.
I gasp and immediately begin typing my response, fury in each key stroke.
TK12: Fuck you, asshole. Go stare at your own titties, which by the looks of your profile pic, are bigger than mine. I’m actually jealous.
I close the chat window and march irritatingly away from my computer.
Why the hell didn’t I do this sooner?