Forever Tomorrow: Kingsley Series Book 4 Page 9

I look back behind me as the words “Marry me” hangs in the air, quite literally a burning question.

  I turn back to see Eric holding up a small ring box. I gasp when he opens it. It has my Mom’s engagement ring in it. It a large Pear Shape Solitaire Diamond Ring, it must be at least 6 carats. The band itself is platinum and covered in tiny diamonds as well. I have always dreamed about wearing my Mom’s ring. And I love that he knows that. I drop to my knees as well and kiss him. I pour my answer into the kiss, and we kiss until we are both breathless. When we finally pull back he looks at me with a smirk.

  “So, is that a yes?”

  “That’s a hell yes.”

  “Thank God,” he says, as he slips the ring onto my left ring finger.

  I am about to throw myself at my brand-new fiancé when a loud cheer erupts from behind us!

  “She said yes!” I hear a very enthusiastic Raeva screaming loudly.

  I look up in surprise when the entire beach starts to swarm with our people. I look at all the faces of our loved ones, and they look as elated as I feel right now. Raeva and Jillybean are the first ones to reach me.

  “Congrats sister!” Rae sobs as she throws her arms around my neck. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Jill throws her arms around both of us.

  “Oh Mik, I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  Mika stalks toward me with large strides. Both Jill and Rae release me as they watch him approach. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.

  “It’s about time you made an honest man out of him,” he tells me with a smirk.

  “Marriage agrees with you, I thought I’d try it out myself,” I shoot back.

  We laugh and he pulls me close again.

  “Eric is like a brother to me, and you, well I guess you have always been like a sister.” He teases.

  I roll my eyes.

  “There would never be anyone good enough to me for him, or for you. So really it is my fault you two ended up together.”

  I burst out laughing again.

  “That’s Mika logic if I ever heard any,” I tell him, shaking my head.

  The rest of the crew congratulates us, and we all head to the tables that are set out for us and enjoy a meal together, celebrating our first evening as fiancés.

  After dinner, we all migrate to the dance area they have set up for us. I suspect that it was per phoenix’s request. We all drink and dance and laugh. The girls have been monopolizing most of my time tonight, but when a slow song starts to play, all the couples start to migrate to the floor and couple up. It’s the first time in a few hours that Eric and I have been able to spend together and I can’t believe I missed him while he was just mere feet beside me.

  “Is it weird that I missed you?” he asks.

  “Yes, yes, it is. But at least now I know that I am not the only weirdo that feels that way,” I say with a chuckle.

  He smiles back at me. Eric playfully dips me and my eyes fall on River and Phoenix, who are dancing together. River looks in his element, it’s good to watch. Eric pulls me back up again and our eyes meet.

  “You look happy,” he tells me.

  “I am happy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Me too.”

  “You know why?” he asks.

  I grin at him. “No, tell me.”

  “Because you’ll be with me, tomorrow and every tomorrow, forever.”

  “Forever tomorrow.” I agree.

  The end.

  (for now)

  Here it is, my seventh book baby! And I can’t believe it! I am so excited to be able to tell the stories that float in my brain and that there are people like you, who love them as much as I do. As always there are so many people I need to thank. First, I’d like to start with my #bookBFF Michelle Windsor—this crazy ride has been richened merely by your presence. You are truly brilliant. You are amazing at everything you do and I am just so honored to share this journey with you. Thank you for the hours and hours of facetime calls, for the shoulder to cry on, for the ear you lend when I need to vent. There isn’t a better #bookbestie on the planet. Next, I’d like to thank my P.A Amanda walker of Amanda walker P.A & design services. Amanda—not only do you put up with my crazy and demanding self, you even seem to like me sometimes ;) AND you are responsible for this AMAZING cover. You’re the best and I adore you. Of course, I cannot go through my acknowledgements and skip my tribe. My Drunk Diva’s Michelle Windsor, Danielle Norman, Sonnie Wolf, Eva Charles, Jill Bengtsson and Mia Miller. You gals are the salt of the earth. Your support and love is a tremendous indicator of how lucky I am because I have you all. Next, I’d like to thank all of my Cumberland hall family. I am grateful for all your support, you know who you are. A shout out to all my family and friends that continue to patiently support me throughout this journey. I am sorry for all the time I miss spending with you all while I write my books. My girl, Felicia Fox, who always reads my chapters, sprint with me, encourages me and motivates me to be better! I FLOVE you! And of course my husband Stephen, who suffers through sleepless nights when I write, write, write. And suffers through going to social engagements alone because I am on another deadline. Thank you for being understanding, even when I don’t deserve it. Last, but most definitely not least, I want to thank YOU, the reader. Who keeps following my stories. Thank you for reading my words and giving my words a chance. It is what keeps me writing.

  Xoxo

  Haylee Thorne.

  When Haylee Thorne isn't writing her stories, she works proudly as a registered nurse in Kentucky. Haylee loves to read and watch TV (she may or may not be slightly obsessed with anime), and there aren't many movies she has not seen. She's known to enjoy a good glass of champagne, and can eat an unlimited amount of French fries (seriously, it's a problem). When she has some free time (as in time not spend working or writing), Haylee loves spending time with her family and friends.

  You can find Haylee on her webpage at

  http://hayleethorneauthor.com/

  or on Facebook at

  https://www.facebook.com/hayleethorneauthor/

  or on bookbub at

  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/haylee-thorne

  Kingsley series

  Duet 1

  Book 1 & 2

  Tomorrow (Kingsley Series Book 1)

  https://amzn.to/2BL2N9e

  After Tomorrow (Kingsley series Book 2)

  https://amzn.to/2RpNhJQ

  Duet 2

  Book 3

  Reclaiming Tomorrow

  https://amzn.to/2UMq1E8

  * * *

  Benjamin books

  Kingsley series and Auction series spin off

  Breaking Benjamin

  https://amzn.to/2BLkyVX

  Marrying Benjamin

  https://amzn.to/2rYcLj9

  * * *

  The Beard

  Romantic comedy stand-alone

  The Beard

  https://amzn.to/2VjKZe8

  Here are some excerpts from some amazing authors to check out!!

  Michelle Windsor asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or sold in any printed or electronic form without direct, written permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  _Trick~

  I walk down the dimly lit hallway, ignoring everyone I pass along the way, my destination already decided before I even arrive. I tried to stay away tonight. I really did. I drank a quarter bottle of Patron in the hope I’d slip into some kind of unconscious slumber in an attempt to stay away. It didn’t wo
rk. I still couldn’t shut out the images that play like a movie in my head when I close my eyes.

  So, here I am, in the one place I know I can lose myself. The one place I know can give me something else to focus on. Something else besides the demons always lurking in the recesses of my mind, always reminding me that I shouldn’t be here. I should be with them, burnt ash forever lost in the desert sands of Afghanistan.

  I stop when I reach the entrance to my salvation, nodding at the door keeper. No one goes into this room unless they’ve been approved beforehand. His name is Gus, and he knows me well enough to know, if I’m standing in front of this door, I’m in need of something more. More than I usually come looking for. He looks me up and down, his eyes cold and detached, and then nods. “Weren’t you just here a couple days ago?”

  “Yep.” That’s it. That’s all he’s getting unless he asks for more. It’s my goddamn body to do whatever I want with.

  “You even healed yet?” His eyes squint as he tries to assess my physical condition to see if I can handle what happens if he lets me through to the other side.

  “I want more. I’m ready.” I need more. I crave more. I deserve more.

  He doesn’t budge. It’s a clear indication that my answer isn’t enough. I let out a long, slow breath through my nostrils and then pull my shirt over my head. I keep it clutched in my hand as I lift my arms out to my side and slowly turn in a circle, stopping when I’m facing him again.

  “You’ve still got scabs.” His eyes roam over my chest.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.

  He tilts his head once toward the door, my approval to enter. “Only because Mistress Blue doesn’t mind a little bit of blood.”

  I keep my shirt off, my fingers crushing the soft material into a tight ball as I walk by to push through the door. “Good, ‘cause neither do I.”

  As soon as I’m on the other side, I take three steps to a padded black mat and fall to my knees, bowing my head as I rest my hands on the tops of my thighs. I’ve just given my submission to whomever wants it in this room. Any free will I have, any desires I have, any fear I have, no longer exist or matter. They belong to someone else to control, to harness, to use in any way they want. For their pleasure, not mine. My only pleasure will be in the pain. I just pray it’s enough to make me forget for a little while.

  Goosebumps break out across my flesh when shiny, latex boots step into my vision. My eyes lift and lock onto black fingernails clutched around the handle of a cat-o-nine tails. But this isn’t your typical whip. It’s made of rope instead of leather, and each end is knotted tightly. People think leather hurts, but the bite rope takes out of your skin is so much more punishing. My cock twitches to life when she lifts it and then drags it across my bare back.

  “Has Halloween come early?” Her sultry voice drips down to my ears. “I didn’t even have to say Trick or Treat.” She lowers herself, turning the handle of the whip, placing it under my chin, and lifting it until my eyes are even with hers. “My lucky day or yours?”

  “Hopefully mine.” Her brow quirks up at my reply as she stands, releasing the hold the handle has on my chin.

  “Get up.” The sultry tone is gone, replaced with a venom I’m hoping will deliver what I need.

  I rise to my feet immediately, my eyes still lowered. My nostrils flare as I absorb the scents permeating the room. Salty sweat, the clean smell of burning wax and the tangy scent of blood, the strongest of them all, causing my dick to fully harden. She barks for me to undress completely, and I do, quickly, leaving my clothing in a heap on the floor.

  “I love that you come with your very own attachment.” She purrs, grasping the heavy metal ring I have pierced through my left nipple, tugging it sharply before fastening a thick silver chain to it. She turns, pulling the makeshift leash, forcing me to follow behind her, yanking hard if I fall too far behind. Which, sometimes I do, just because I like the way it feels.

  Her boots clunk to a loud stop as she plants one foot and spins around. She gathers the chain, wrapping it slowly around her wrist, forcing me forward until I’m inches from her body. Lavender invades my nostrils when I inhale, the scent overwhelming when she lowers her head and sinks her teeth into my earlobe. She tugs once, hard, before releasing the tender flesh, her tongue dragging over her bite mark. “Just having you in my snare makes me so wet.”

  I reach my hand between her legs and skim two fingers up the inside of her thigh. I’m about to confirm her disclosure, but before I can, I feel the knots of the whip smack across my back. I drop to my knees, a moan falling from my rounded lips, my eyes rolling back in pleasure. This. This is what I want.

  “Did I give you permission to touch me?” She lifts her foot and places the pointy heel of the boot against my thigh.

  I shake my head. I know what the answer is supposed to be, but if I want all that she has to offer, I can’t give her that. I want her to punish me, after all. “I thought you wanted me to touch you, Mistress.”

  She leans forward, pushing her body into the heel, the weight making the skin around the tip pucker and finally break, small trails of blood seeping out, trickling down my leg. “I tell you what I want. When to touch me. How to touch me.”

  There’s the bite of the whip against the bare flesh on my back again. I sigh out my consent, my head bowed, “Yes, Mistress.” My cock throbs its contentment against my bowed stomach.

  “Get up!” The sting of rope slices across my chest as I rise. “Against the wall.” I turn, rewarded with another slash of the whip against my buttocks as I walk to the cross hanging in front of me. The next twenty minutes are a blur of pleasure and pain. The whip falls against my skin again and again. Her mouth teasing my cock before she finally frees me, my body crumpling at her feet. Her grip on my cock is rough as she drags me to the bed then climbs on top of me. Her wet core thrusts onto my hardness. She grinds her hips against mine, riding her body against mine, my blood a thin, wet layer between us, before we both scream out our releases. And I finally freefall into utter bliss, blacking out, forgetting everything for just a little while.

  _Annabelle~

  He’s quiet. He’s always quiet. But he’s been sitting there for thirty minutes with barely six words spoken. Single word answers to questions I’ve asked. I know he hates coming to these sessions, and only does because it’s a requirement to get his pilot license reinstated. I’ve come to loathe this time as well, but not for the same reason as him. I lift my right leg off my left, uncrossing them, the bare skin sticking together briefly as I pull them apart. I shift so that I’m sitting up straighter and then cross my legs again, this time left over right. There’s a small red circle on the top of my left leg, just above my knee. It’s the spot my other leg was resting on before I repositioned. I stare at it a moment and then swing my attention back to my client, noticing his eyes are trailing up the length of my bare legs.

  Instead of saying anything, I drag my eyes slowly down his frame. He’s more relaxed than me, his jean clad legs stretched in front of him, ankles crossed above worn leather work boots. One hand rests loosely on his thigh while the other is clenched in a fist on the arm of the chair, betraying his actual comfort level. My eyes rake up his arm, noticing the tattoo sneaking out from under the short sleeve of the shirt, before moving across his chest, where I lock onto the piercing I can make out under the thin material. I squeeze my legs together as I feel my pussy contract. I have to restrain myself from licking my lips as I wonder, for only an instant, what it would feel like to have that ring between my lips. He clears his throat, bringing me back to my senses, my gaze swinging back to his, but not before I notice something near the collar of his shirt.

  “You’re bleeding.” I lift my hand as I rise from my chair, pointing to the stain of blood seeping through his shirt.

  He looks down, frowns, and then lifts his eyes back to mine, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine if blood is soaking through your shi
rt,” I state matter-of-factly, and stride past him into the private bathroom. I open the cabinet under the sink to pull out the first aid kit, carrying it back over to where he’s still sitting casually. I set it down on the table next to him and open it up.

  “It’s nothing, Doc.” His lips purse tightly as I open a piece of gauze, moving toward the stain on his shirt, then freeze, my hand hovering. I realize I either need to lift his shirt up, or slide the gauze under the neck of the material to cover the wound. If it was any other client, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated. But this one, this one makes me feel things I know I shouldn’t. His eyes slide up and lock onto mine as he pinches the gauze from my fingers. He slides it under the hem of the shirt to press against his skin.

  I realize my hand is still lingering over him and take a quick step back, standing up straight as I do. One side of his mouth cocks up as a chuckle vibrates lightly up from his chest. He knows he’s making me nervous, and it pisses me off, so I do the one thing I shouldn’t as his doctor and go on the offensive.

  “You went back again, didn’t you?”

  He pulls the bloodied gauze out from under his shirt, balling it up into a wad, then rises. He strolls over to the trash can located next to my desk to drop it in before finally responding. “So?”

  “So, I thought we agreed you were going to find another way to try to deal with the memories.” I walk over to my desk, leaning back against it.