SEVER by Jane, Melissa (best fiction books to read .txt) 📗

his briefcase, choosing to ignore the pain in my voice. “I have to go,” he dismisses, avoiding all eye contact.

I follow him to the door and my demeanor softens. “Please,” I murmur quietly. “Can you just think about it? It could be good for us.”

To understand how the hurt feels, it’s like a thousand daggers to the heart plunging relentlessly, yet, I still haven’t left him.

But that’s all about to change, and I’m still to find out if it’s for the better or for the worse.

We met at a college football after-party. I was eighteen and he, twenty-two. Kegs of beer were an endless supply and the glow of the enormous bonfire warmed our faces. Our tipsy friends had coupled up in various dark corners, leaving me alone with the dangerously handsome man I’d known for only a heartbeat. He sensed my nervousness as I looked awkwardly between him and the happy drunks fumbling about. He made one move. One move that spun my world off its once-stable axis, and had me falling head over heels for a man I thought to be well out of my league. He reached out and took my hand, offering a reassuring squeeze, instantly putting me at ease.

Inching closer, his lips grazed my ear as he spoke, his beautifully deep voice drowning out the noise around us. “I know any other day you’re a blonde-haired angel, but this bonfire makes you look like a sinful devil.”

A smile pulled my lips and I did my best to not let his compliment affect me. “Do you say that to all the girls?” I gently teased, my own lips grazing his warm cheek.

“This is my first bonfire, so… no.” I giggled because the man had a point. “Besides,” he continued, “I haven’t met one worthy enough… until now.”

My heart thudded hard against my ribs, the feel of his lips tingling my skin, his sweet and spicy cologne affecting my senses. I had never felt like this. No man had ever had such an instant effect on me. I knew then and there that this man was going to bring me to my knees in more ways than one, and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

“You know all the right things to say, don’t you?”

He pulled away to look me in the eyes. They were beautiful. Eyes I could drown in. We were both sober drivers, so we couldn’t blame alcohol for how we were responding to each other. “You make it easy,” Shawn said, and my knees grew weak. “I know a place.” He continued, “I think you’ll love it.”

“Whoa, cowboy,” I laughed nervously, placing my hands on his muscular chest. I was so taken aback at how firm he felt that I was more than prepared to go anywhere with this stranger. “You’re moving a bit fast.” I hated the words as soon as they left my mouth because I was more than happy to move fast with him.

He frowned. “Too fast for pie?”

Pie?

Sensing my confusion, he continued, “I know the best pie place in town. Cherry. But not the fake cherries.”

“You’re taking me for pie?”

“I am.”

My eyes traveled the length of his body, taking in every curve of muscle. “You don’t strike me as the pie-eating type.”

He smiled cheekily. “Every Friday without fail.”

“Today is Friday,” I said slowly, considering his invitation.

Shawn raised his brows expectantly and I giggled at his enthusiasm. “What about the others?”

“It’s too early for them to come up for air. Let’s see what we can get up to in a few hours.”

Twenty minutes later, we sat side by side, thighs touching, in a diner on the main strip. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, a groan escaping my lips. “This…” I said through a mouthful of pie, “is the best I’ve ever eaten. It’s… it’s ever so slightly orgasmic.”

“Only ever so slightly?”

“Okay, it’s a full climax.”

“I’d like to see that.”

I turned slowly to meet his deep, penetrable gaze and I tingled in all the right areas. I wanted him to see the effect he had on me, but I made him wait. A week and half after we officially started dating, I finally gave in to the cravings. I’d wanted to devour him from the moment we’d met, but I didn’t want to be a hit and run. I wanted more with this man and he respected that because he too wanted the same. When we did make love, he took me hard and fast and then slow and deep. His cock took some getting used to, and he was always patient at the beginning until the pain gave way to pleasure.

Then it was fair game.

Shawn ravaged me day and night, in between lectures and during private study, proving his insatiable desire for me. We lusted and we loved, and within a year, Shawn asked me to marry him. Despite everyone objecting to my young age, pressuring me to explore the world before settling down, our marriage was the envy of anyone who knew or saw us. Our passion never faltered, and we always operated as a team, even if at times our opinions differed.

No one could come between us.

No one could destroy what came so naturally to us.

Until a year ago when everything changed.

When suddenly our perfect turned into a distant memory in less than a heartbeat. Shawn had swept me off my feet and didn’t put me back on the ground until he decided one day to stop loving me. Some would describe it as the seven-year itch—being that it was exactly six years at the time—but it was so much worse than that. There’s no way to adequately describe the feeling of loss. Someone may as well