Summer Breeze Kisses - Addison Moore Page 0,1

blink a smile as the room starts to sway. “You tell me yours—I’ll tell you mine.” I’ve long since suspected Holt has been harboring his own issues.

Holt takes the bottle and indulges in one last swig before settling it between his legs. He looks up with a devilish grin, and suddenly I’m very damn thirsty for whiskey.

“Why do I feel like you’re changing the subject?” I reach down and cradle the bottle with my fingers grazing over the hard situation blooming in his jeans. “Hello there.” I glance down as I move the whiskey to the nightstand.

“He can’t quite hear you.”

“Maybe I’d better bring my mouth a little closer.” I run my tongue over my bottom lip, and the smile slopes right off his face. “Secrets?”

“How about we focus on the here and now?” He scoots over and pulls me onto his lap. His breath warms my neck with the strong scent of whiskey. When I was little, I would open that old bottle my mother keeps as a shrine and take in its scent. It always reminded me of fresh cut wood, of a forest, a man, but oddly never of my father.

Holt holds the scent of a country meadow, earthy and raw. His fingers dig into my flesh as he massages his way up my thighs. I roll my head and give a soft groan until it feels as if I’m falling right through him. Holt and I don’t need liquor. We can get drunk simply off each other. Holt is the only high I’ll ever need.

“I’m sort of liking the here and now.” My heart thumps, wild and rabid, as it tries to break free from its cage. I reach up and run my fingers over his rough stubble. Holt is handsome as hell, kind, and I’m pretty certain he’d kill for me. He’s my pot of gold, that’s for sure. I wonder if he’d want to live in this room with me forever. How could I ever explain that those were the terms I promised my father—that I could never abandon my mother to the fate of being alone after she sacrificed so much for Laney and me.

“What’s running through your mind?” He smears my lips with a juicy kiss.

“I’m thinking you should stay right here in this bed and never leave.” I blow the words right over his lips. “You in?”

“I’m in.” Holt lies over me, and my robe opens voluntarily.

“There’s something I want to give you,” I whisper as my heart fires in my chest like a gunshot.

“What’s that?” He traces my lips examining me like this, naked and splayed beneath him.

“All of me.”

Heart in a Blender


Dear Dad,

Everything is going great. I’m on track to graduate, I’ll be getting married in a few weeks to the man of my dreams, and I love where I work.

Actually, that’s Laney’s life. But don’t worry about me. I’m pretty happy with Mom. And, most importantly, I’ve kept Laney safe just the way you told me. It cost a little more than I bargained for, but things that are worth it usually do.



“Would you get a load of that tight ass?”

Jemma leans so far out of her seat I have to pull her back by the elbow before she does a face-plant onto the floor. She’s waiting for her sister to arrive much like I am. Although I never look down on a minute I get to spend with my best friend since these moments are far and few between as of late. We’re just killing time by staring at the aforementioned tight ass.

“Leave it to you to balance out equal rights by objectifying the male species.”

“Oh, hon, I ain’t objectifying.” Jemma has held onto her country accent ever since she moved to North Carolina in the middle of junior high. It’s one of the things I love about her. Jemma is not only fun as hell to listen to, but she comes fully equipped with a plethora of what I’ve grown to accept as Jemma-isms—slightly salted words of wisdom that are eerily on target. “If he didn’t want all eyes on deck, he wouldn’t dress that way.” Point in case. Jemma is the worst offender when it comes to objectifying anyone with an extra appendage slung between their legs. She fluffs out her deep fried hair and plucks a cigarette from her purse simply out of habit. Jemma knows there’s no smoking in the Black Bear—Holt Edwards and his tight ass have probably warned her enough in