Southern Seduction (106 page)

“Now,” I pleaded with him.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Now.”

Shane positioned his body and drove deep into me, his dark eyes locked on mine. I stared into them as he thrust over and over again, moving harder each time. I lost track of time. I couldn’t hold a single thought in my head. I could only feel his body meeting mine, us moving together thrust for thrust.

Sweat glistened on his body, and I could feel the breeze against my slickened skin. But I couldn’t look away from him. There was something so different about this time. A bigger connection between the two of us. One that I didn’t want to break by looking away.

Shane locked his hands around my hips and lifted me up to meet his thrusts. He held me so easily, and I felt safe in his arms. Loved and cherished. Desired and ravished.

I felt my muscles start to tighten as I drew closer and closer to release. “So close,” I whispered to him.

“God, me too, Charlotte. I don’t know if I can hold on much longer,” Shane growled.

Pleasure exploded at his words and rocked my body. I shuddered in his arms as my climax hit me, setting Shane off as he stiffened against me. I could feel the heat of his release filling me inside. He still kept pumping in and out as I shivered beneath him, aftershocks bursting over me and taking my breath away.

“So good,” I murmured.

Shane leaned down and captured my lips with his before slowly withdrawing from my body. “Perfect,” he replied.

We just laid there, tangled together for quite a while, enjoying the sense of closeness.

“You said yes,” he whispered into my ear, rubbing the ring that circled my finger.

“I did,” I replied.

“And pretty soon you’ll say I do,” he continued.

“Yes, I will.”

“Mine,” he whispered as he held my body close to his. And I was relieved that I no longer had any doubts about our future together.

August 2008

As I walk across campus at UC-Berkeley, I feel like I need to pinch myself. I’m so out of place here in San Francisco, but I also blend right in with the other eager college freshman, ready to start this new chapter of our lives. I’ve only been here for three days, and I’m still finding it hard to believe that I, Cheyenne Hamilton, small-town transplant from Shiloh Grove, Georgia, am approximately 2,463 miles away from home—not that I’d call it that. Ever since my daddy died—God rest his soul—I counted down the days and measured the miles until I could get away from my mama and start over in Daddy’s hometown.

As I walked back to my dorm, a small flock of black birds flies over my head and I’m reminded that I wasn’t always so anxious to get here. I was only eight years old when Daddy died, and I’ll never forget the day I gave him a goodbye kiss as he was about to board the Navy ship in Charleston. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against my forehead, wiping away the tears that were falling from my eyes.

“Hey, Birdie, don’t cry,” he said, calling me his favorite nickname, and I giggled, always loving it. “I won’t be gone too long. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Sniffing, I didn’t believe his words, but I wanted to be a big girl for him, so I forced myself to stop crying. “I know, Daddy. I’m just going to miss you while you’re on the big ship.”

He kissed the top of my head as he looked behind me. “Look, Birdie, over there. Do you see it?”

Turning to follow where his hand pointed, I saw the tiny bird with blue tinted feathers resting on a post near the ship’s entrance. I immediately identified it as a swallow, our favorite.

“It’s a swallow, Daddy! It’s good luck!” I exclaimed, remembering all the tales he’d told me.

Nodding, he swooped me up into his arms and twirled me around before setting me back on the ground. “You’re right, baby. It’s a swallow. And what does a swallow represent?”

I recited the words I’d heard many times. “One swallow takes you from me, and two will bring you back. As long as you have the swallow, forever we won’t lack. And in the spring, when the swallows appear, I’ll always know that you are near.”

The smile he gave me is etched forever in my memory—the last smile I ever saw from him. “Bravo, Birdie! The swallows are about to fly south for the winter, but soon they’ll be back. And I’ll be right behind them, okay?”

Sighing, I knew that it was it. He was about to leave and I had to say goodbye. I remember trying my hardest not to let my tears fall, to make my daddy proud by showing him that I was a big girl. It wasn’t until the ship went out of view and I could no longer see his waving figure that I finally broke down.

And that was the last time I saw my daddy.

Shaking the memory out of my head, I jog up the steps to my dorm, hoping that Corinna, my roommate, is gone for the night. Don’t get me wrong. So far she seems pretty great, but she’s the polar opposite of me. Bubbly, cheerful, ready to make friends and meet college boys. Me? I’m depressed, heartbroken, and even though this should be the happiest time of my life, I’m miserable as hell. All because of Sawyer Callahan.

I’m happy when I go into my dorm and see that it’s empty. Turning on my I-Feel-Like-Crying playlist, I curl up on my bed when Carrie Underwood’s The Night Before Life Goes On comes on. As much as I want to resist, I lean down and grab the photo album from under my bed. Fingers trembling, heart racing, somehow I gather up the courage to open it up, my heart stopping when my eyes fall on the first picture. It’s Sawyer, wearing worn jeans and cowboy boots, nothing else. The strong muscles in his back are rippling, and his tan is sexy as hell. He’s grooming a dark chocolate mare, but his eyes are on me, his smile wide. Closing my eyes, I can remember that day, and the tears fall immediately, even though I try to hold them in. It isn’t until I hear the door open and close that I open my eyes and try to wipe them quickly, but it’s too late.

She walks over to me, but I shut the album and put it under my pillow before she can grab it. Sitting down on my bed, she looks at me with soft eyes. “I’d ask if you’re okay, Cheyenne, but I can tell that you aren’t. Get your ass out of this bed. We’re going out.”

I start to protest, but she glares daggers at me. “I am not taking no for an answer. This is supposed to be the best time of our lives, yet you’ve been doing nothing but moping since we got here. Get up. Go change into something sexy. You have fifteen minutes,” she tells me, walking out the door without another word.

A few hours and many, many beers later, we’re walking down the street when Cori’s eyes light up. She turns to me and grins. “This is a new chapter for us, Cheyenne. Let’s commemorate it with a little ink.”

I don’t know if it’s the beer or the freedom, but something about Cori’s idea sounds tempting, even if I had a minor freak-out last time I was in a tattoo shop. We wander towards the shop, the door chiming as we walk in. She sets about looking through the hundreds of pages of tattoo ideas when the tattoo artist asks me if I know what I want. I think of Sawyer with amazing clarity and immediately know how I want to mark my body. When I tell him my idea, he smiles and leads me back to a sterile room, prompting me to hold my foot out.

A few minutes later, Cori joins us and her eyes widen as she watches him work. “That’s beautiful, Cheyenne. Does that have something to do with why you’ve been so mopey since I’ve met you?”

I shrug, not really wanting to get into it, but she doesn’t let it go. As I admire the black ink on my foot, my eyes well up at the symbolism.

“What happened to you, Cheyenne? Why are you so sad?”

Looking up at her, I blame the alcohol for what I’m about to admit. “I fell head over heels in love this summer.”

She wrinkles her eyebrows and gives me a strange look. “And that’s a problem?”

Sighing, I have no idea why I answer, but for once, I finally let it out. “The problem is…he’s my stepbrother.”

January 2014

Cheyenne

I’m out of breath after having taken four trips up and down three flights of stairs to the apartment that Cori, Bryan, and I rented in Five Points, a district on the east side of Atlanta. Setting down the last of the boxes, I cross to the refrigerator and thank the Lord when I see that Bry has stocked up on beer, something that’s been his job since the day he moved in with us off campus our junior year of college. When I left Shiloh Grove almost six year ago, I left behind the only family I knew, but Cori and Bryan have become the best makeshift one I’ve ever had—at least since Daddy died. Sure, my mother keeps in contact from time to time, mostly through Christmas cards and postcards of wherever she and her husband, Thomas Callahan, are vacationing. We always said we’d visit, but something usually got in the way, and I hate to say it, but I’m ashamed over the fact that I haven’t seen her or returned home since the day I drove away from the two-stoplight town.

I never imagined I’d be back in Georgia, and it took a huge push to get me to come back. After graduating from Berkeley with a degree in marketing, I got a job at the firm where I’d interned my senior year, but even after working there for a year and a half, I was still treated as such. I was beginning to wonder why in the hell I’d worked my ass off to graduate from one of the top business programs in the country when Bryan came home from his accounting job excited as hell. Before I could ask what was going on, he slapped a piece of paper down in front of me. Scanning it, I realized it was an ad for a job fair for Wellsley Enterprises, one of the oldest research and development conglomerates in the country. Long story short, he and I both went, and by the grace of God, we both were offered jobs and a relocation allowance to move to Atlanta. Cori, who decided to use her psychology degree to start an online relationship blog, packed up and headed east with us, no questions asked. It’s been a whirlwind, but now that I’m here, in my new apartment, back in Georgia, I’m finally feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

Instead of going for the beer, I open up the freezer and sigh in relief when I see the whiskey chilling. God love Jack Daniels. Twisting off the cap, I take a healthy swig and immediately feel better as the burning sensation in my chest calms my nerves.

“Damn, Shy, it’s not even dinnertime,” I hear Bryan say as I watch him set down two boxes on the kitchen counter.

“Those are the last boxes, right? I don’t think I can climb another step today. Remind me to find a gym around here,” I tell him, ignoring his comment.

As I start to go through the boxes in the kitchen, he walks over to me and pulls me in for a big hug, which I readily return.

“I guess it’s finally setting in that we’re not in California anymore,” I admit.

“Trust me, I know exactly what you mean. I’ve never lived anywhere but San Francisco, and I’m starting to feel a little bit like Dorothy down here in the South. If I hear one more ‘yes, sir’ I’m going to start saluting people.” He smiles down at me, and then he gets a serious look on his face. “Are you nervous being back home, Shyannie?”

Smiling at his stupid nickname for me, I nod. “I haven’t seen my mother since I left for college, and I know she lives in Alpharetta, only about half an hour outside the city. Part of me knows I should call her. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet.”