A Winter's Date Read online

  A Winter's Date

  Soundtrack

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  About the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  A Winter’s Date

  Published by Jessica Epps and Sasha-Lee Brümmer

  2015 Edition

  ISBN: 978-0-9863049-3-4

  Copyright © 2015 Jessica Epps and Sasha-Lee Brümmer

  Editor:

  Lisa Aurello

  Cover Designer:

  Judi Perkins

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, scanning, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the copyright owners/authors. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited in any form whatsoever.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, places, characters, and incidents either are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. The ideas, characters, and situations presented in this story are strictly fictional and any unintentional likeness to real persons, living or dead, or real situations are completely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  This book is dedicated to our readers—to all of those who share a love for Heather and Noah’s story.

  Bright—Echosmith

  Cookie—R. Kelly

  Desire—Meg Myers

  Elastic Heart—Sia, ft. The Weeknd and Diplo

  Falling—Florence and the Machine

  Fine by Me—Andy Grammer

  Going Down for Real—Flo Rida

  Happy—Pharrell Williams

  Hey Mama—David Guetta, ft. Nicki Minaj, Bebe Rexha & Afrojack

  High for This—The Weeknd

  Lay Me Down—Sam Smith, ft. John Legend

  Moondance—Michael Bublé

  Moving Pictures Silent Films—Great Lake Swimmers

  Once Upon a Dream—Lana Del Rey

  Skinny Love—Birdy

  Summertime Sadness—Lana Del Rey

  The Sea and the Rhythm—Iron & Wine

  The Trapeze Swinger—Iron & Wine

  #1 Crush—Garbage

  NOAH

  An ominous storm delivers its wrath over the heart of London, opening the sky. Through the darkening night, thunderous cracks and bolts of lightning strike in concert. Rain beating against the window in Heather’s room on the thirty-fifth floor is the only audible sound in the apartment, distracting me from my studies when it pulls my gaze out of the window and into the capturing beauty of the turbulent storm.

  The love of a woman can make a man do dubious things, and the way Heather loves me has made me do some ridiculous shit. For instance, dropping everything and flying across an ocean to track her down and claim her as my own again. I’ve been in London for two weeks now; I couldn’t care less about my surroundings, just as long as she’s there. I haven’t broached the subject on how long she plans on staying, though, and, quite frankly, I’m not okay with a long-distance relationship. I did not like the distance when she left Arizona, but London? Yeah, not happening. I can be dominant when I want to be, but the problem is . . . Heather doesn’t respond well to dominance unless it involves us being naked and my dick between her legs. I haven’t—and I won’t—push her to go home with me, although that’s ultimately what I want.

  I’ve been studying day and night for the bar exam while Heather has been dancing her little ass off; she’s exceedingly dedicated to her ballet career, now more than before. The only recurring problem seems to be Alexis Keeley. Every time I swing by the studio to have lunch with Heather or pick her up, Alexis is waiting. She’s like a vulture waiting on my relationship to perish, so she can swoop in and pick up the pieces. I refuse to let that happen.

  I’m lost in my thoughts when I feel her lips graze the skin on my neck. I didn’t even feel her walk up to me, let alone hear her pad into the room. I can feel her smile against my skin, and she’s bubbling with energy. Turning around quickly, I knock her off her feet, and then catch her before she is able to fall. She moves her gorgeous self onto my lap while giggling sweetly.

  “Good evening, little ballerina. How was practice?”

  “Hi, baby. It was good, but I couldn’t get my mind off of you.”

  Damn, she smells like heaven. “Oh yeah? Why was that?” I taunt.

  She nuzzles herself into my neck and nips at me. “Because I’ve wanted you since you got up at five in the morning to study. I didn’t want to interrupt, though; you were so invested in your books. And twelve hours later, you’re still studying.”

  I close my book, remembering the page number before sliding it to the other end of the desk.

  “Is that better? You now have my undivided attention.”

  She sighs dramatically. “Finally.”

  The smile that forms on my face is the one that’s been there since I made love to her during an intense storm while in the London Eye. Her hands move down to grasp my cock through my sweatpants, surprising me with her urgency. Blood rushes through my veins all the way down to my dick, forming an unmistakable tent in my sweats when she moves her hand away. Her body is so attuned to mine that she starts grinding those hips on me before I can even get my hands on her pale skin. I know she’s wet and ready for me, and I’m going to satisfy this budding need in her until she can’t stand my touch without exploding in a rush of orgasm. Before I can finish that thought, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting the flash of heat between us. Shit, more like a fucking pounding.

  “Heather? Noah? You two better be clothed because I’m busting in.”

  The door swings open before I have a second to adjust my painfully aching cock. As much as I enjoy Heather hanging out with her best friend, Dillen, living with her is something else. She’s a ball of energy waiting to blow—blow my friend she met in New York, that is. I’ve lost track of how many times she’s asked me when Coen is coming to visit her in London. Hell, I know I won’t be getting any sleep when that dipshit arrives. Heather and I might have to retreat to a hotel during his stay, or at the very least purchase some earplugs.

  “Dillen,” Heather mockingly scolds.

  “What? Oh, were you two about to do it?” she asks sarcastically. She knows Heather can’t stay off of my dick for more than twelve hours. She’s like one hell of an athlete, thriving on sex to calm her and rein in her body before performing.

  Heather looks down at my still-hard cock. Her little hand is wrapped around my shaft through my sweats, and I’m sure Dillen is staring by now.

  “Holy shit, Heather.”

  Heather’s eyes shoot up swiftly, “Go get your own,” she says, attempti
ng to hide my straining erection in the fabric of my sweats, but there’s not a hope in hell. My gift to women, to Heather, is no longer a curse.

  Dillen hauls ass out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

  “We need to get a deadbolt on this door if I’m ever going to be able to ravage you like I did in that capsule.”

  Dillen’s voice comes screeching through the walls of her apartment, “Is there even a condom that fits you, Noah? Damn.”

  “Uhh . . . ballerina? Do you want to answer that?”

  “I’m on the pill, you butthead. He doesn’t need to wear a condom,” Heather blurts out as she deftly works to get my sweats off.

  I hear Dillen snort, then sarcastically reply, “Yeah, because that’s one hundred percent effective.”

  Dammit, Dillen, way to kill the mood.

  Heather’s head quickly snaps up, and she looks into my eyes for the briefest moment. There’s nothing like throwing in the risk of pregnancy to get someone’s juices flowing. And before I can say a word, Heather looks as if she’s drawn some sort of conclusion and shrugs. The growl that escapes me is louder than I expected, as she dives back in and wraps her hand around my bare length.

  Dillen must have heard my growl, because the next thing I hear is her yelling, “You lucky little shit. I’m so envious of you right now.”

  Her words are soon lost to the both of us as we become entirely consumed in each other.

  “Please? Do what you did to me last night?” she begs, and I’m going to give it to her all night until she is too sore to take me anymore.

  “You better be ready for me, ballerina. I’m not wasting any time tonight. That little pussy belongs to me.” I can feel my pulse thrumming in my dick as she takes it into her mouth, sucking me off like I’m her favorite flavor of the month. I hear Dillen yell something, but I couldn’t give a shit. I know Coen just showed up on her doorstep and she’s about to damn well lose it with excitement.

  Hell, I should probably send out a note of apology to all of our surrounding neighbors tomorrow because of the onslaught of screams that will be coming from this apartment tonight.

  The flicks of Heather’s tongue bring me back as I unconsciously run my hands into her dark-chocolate hair. I meticulously pull her farther down my shaft and watch gratifyingly as her lips meet the base of my cock.

  Countless hours pass before Heather and I emerge from her bedroom, only to find clothes strewn all over the living room and kitchen floor. I believe the pictures on the wall are crooked; either that, or I’m still trying to recover from my last orgasm.

  “Was that Coen at the door?” She sounds genuinely surprised.

  “Yeah, and I’m guessing his dick is currently wet. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was coming, but the two of you girls share everything and he really wanted it to be a surprise for Dillen.”

  She jumps up and circles her arms around my neck, holding me fast as she presses those soft, rosy lips to mine. “You are the most amazing man. I’m so in love with you, Noah Ryan.”

  “Mmm,” I hum against her lips before taking her bottom lip into my mouth and sucking. “I love you too. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

  She beams and stares me down with those gorgeous jade green eyes. Her little frame shivers in my arms, and I hold her closer. “Am I giving you goose bumps and orgasms now?”

  “You know exactly what you do to me, Noah.” Her teeth graze the skin of my throat as she growls cutely.

  “Are you complaining?”

  “No,” she snaps out, “not one bit. Plus, if they weren’t in there . . .” She nods toward Dillen’s bedroom just as a violent, ear-piercing scream fills the apartment. We both freeze and stare at the door before she finishes her sentence. “ . . . I would be the one having a few more orgasms.”

  “Holy fuck, that’s what she sounds like? I would be deaf after one round with her. I hope Coen is wearing earplugs.”

  She smacks my chest and playfully scolds me, “Baby, you aren’t having a round with anybody except me.”

  She gets a chuckle out of me, and I squeeze her firm ass. “Come on, let’s get some food in you before you wither away,” she says, playfully biting my jaw, and I fucking love it.

  “I am not withering away. Can we order in tonight, please?”

  “I’m fine with that.”

  I carry her over to the couch and sit down with her on my lap. As I turn my head to look for the remote, my nose comes within mere inches of a bright green bra hanging from the sofa back. “Fuck, Dillen . . .” I jerk away as Heather’s laugh fills the room.

  “Why in God’s name is her shit everywhere?”

  She shrugs cutely. “When the moment hits, we’re not worried where our clothes go.”

  I laugh at her response, and she reaches for her tablet. We spend the next few minutes playfully arguing about what to order before we finally decide to order enough Chinese food to feed us for days.

  “Damn, someone worked up an appetite.”

  She nods excitedly. “I’m sure Dillen and Coen have too.”

  “Yeah, from the sound of it.”

  With the remote in hand, I flick Dillen’s bra off the back of the couch so I can relax. A smile is already playing at my lips because I can feel Heather moving around on the couch. She’s trying to get comfortable, and I know it won’t be long now, so I sit and wait patiently. Within minutes she gives in and curls back up on my lap, sensually wiggling her ass as she rests her head against my chest. Her ice-cold fingers stray underneath my shirt before she starts pulling at my V-neck to get it off.

  “Are you cold?” I ask in a low voice.

  “I’m always cold.”

  I pull my shirt off and she rests her head back down against my bare skin, running her fingers up and down my torso. I think she enjoys our skin-to-skin contact. My fingers trail along her arm as we watch one of the latest movie releases.

  A half-hour passes before Coen and Dillen walk out of her bedroom. They both look battered up and fatigued.

  Heather lifts her head from my chest and looks up at her friend. “Dillen, you are so stinking loud.”

  “Heather, you be quiet . . . Coen is a maniac between the sheets.”

  Coen laughs and slaps my shoulder as he walks past the couch and to the front door.

  “Did you wash your goddamn hands before touching me, you assfuck? Welcome to London, by the way. How was your flight?”

  “Yeah, thanks for making me get a cab, dipshit,” he says as he swings the door open to accept our food delivery.

  “The cash is on the table to your right, and you’re welcome.”

  Heather moves off of my lap to help Dillen spread out the food on the dining room table; the two of them are whispering, and I would love to know exactly what they are talking about. This woman has my attention at all times, and I don’t think she even realizes it. I get up and pull my shirt back on before joining the three of them at the table.

  “Eat up, you sex fiends,” Heather chimes in, and I have to clear my throat because she is definitely not one to talk.

  The evening passes quickly, with excited chatter filling the confines of Dillen’s apartment. A few hours later I’m back to the grind. I have my notes splayed out in front of me and a few textbooks taking up every inch of available space on the desk in Heather’s room. The thudding of Dillen’s headboard on our wall has stopped, and I’m grateful for the silence; I can finally concentrate.

  My brain aches from staring at all of the cramped words on the page. Laws are laws, but they vary greatly from state to state. I try to not let my stress show because I don’t want Heather to see me that way, and I don’t want a single thing to keep her from her lifelong dream. She’s got her first performance with this company in less than a week, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t have the lead role already. Of course she does: she’s remarkable.

  I never gave much thought to the dedication of a dancer before. When I attended the ballet with Mae, it was just a sho
w, just a few hours out of my night. But fuck, Heather is such a dedicated performer; I’m constantly in awe of her. Dillen is pretty noteworthy as well, but she still has nothing on my girl. There’s something behind her smile when she dances, and I love watching her. She’s happiest onstage, and I know when I see that smile, she’s where she’s meant to be.

  I know how disheartened she would have been if she stayed in the States. I must admit, I’m pretty damn pleased that she’s away from that prick in tights. I was damn close to knocking out his over-bleached teeth at the bar that night, and I’d do it again, but the lying pussy never came to London. But now we have to deal with Alexis, trading one problem for another.

  She’s relentless, that girl. Heather hasn’t asked me any more questions about Alexis, and thank fuck. She’s trouble with a capital T. One thing I figured out while dating in college was how to identify the crazies. Alexis is a textbook narcissist with psychopathic tendencies. Keeping my distance from her is my main objective. I just wish Heather didn’t have her head filled with nonsense on a daily basis by the crazy bitch. I can tell every day when she comes home that Alexis has messed with her in some way. She won’t admit it to me, but I can see it. I’ve watched my girl, and I know when she’s hiding something.

  I cannot concentrate tonight.

  My thoughts drift from my studies to a few nights ago. I was beyond exhausted from reading the same book repeatedly. The words were on replay in my head. I got up to stretch and grab some ice water when I noticed that Heather wasn’t in her bed.

  When did she leave the room? I walked down the hall and into the kitchen when I noticed the TV flashing in the dark. Quietly, I made my way over to where Heather was curled up on the couch, half asleep, watching the . . . Smithsonian Channel? The volume was almost inaudible. As I rounded the couch, she looked up at me with tired eyes.

  “Baby? What are you doing out here?” I asked as I crouched down beside her head, kissing her forehead gently. She looked so damn adorable when she replied, her eyes fighting to stay open.

  “I couldn’t sleep; I was too cold.”