Loving Her-Audiobook

Chapter One

Noah:

I’ve loved her my
whole life. At least since I can remember, which is all the way back to when
she was in kindergarten and I was in first grade. I’d chase her through the
backyard and around the jungle gym, trying to catch and kiss her.

If I’d succeed,
she’d curl her little fingers into a fist, sock me in the gut, then run and
tell her mother.

Yep, I had no
game.

And, apparently, I
didn’t leave an impression. Because now, at thirty, she’s still avoiding me.

Even though she
can’t go very far at the moment since I’m her brother’s Best Man, and she’s the
Maid of Honor.

Let me tell you, I
hate weddings.

I hate them even
more when I’m forced to stand across from her and can’t touch her, drag my
fingers through her long, dark hair and run my lips along her delicate neck.

The only time I can touch her is when I escort her up
the aisle. I’ve done it twice so far. However, she won’t meet my eyes, she feels
stiff on my arm and she’s hardly said two words to me. And now I stand here
while the wedding planner drones on and on about what’s expected of us during
the ceremony tomorrow.

Yawn.

Look, Ms. Wedding
Planner, it’s easy. Put one foot in front of the other, walk (without tripping)
up the center aisle (can’t get lost while staying in between the rows of pews
and aim for the front of the church), then stand to the side (no picking noses,
asses, or adjusting your junk).

Simple.

Oh, and don’t pass
out. Otherwise, the video will go viral across cyberspace.

One more thing…
the rings. Can’t forget to put the rings in my tux pocket.

Got it.

Yawn again.

It isn’t as if I’m
not happy for my buddy, getting married to a great woman (although, not quite
as stunning as his sister) who makes him happy, but I’m not thrilled with being
a part of it. But I have his back. And I’d love to have his sister on her back.

Again. But in
better circumstances.

We lost our
virginity together at seventeen in her parents’ pool shed. I was in love with
her then, too. Her with me? Not so much.

And in those
forty-five seconds of bliss, I fell in love with her even more. I don’t think
she thought it was even close to bliss, though. In fact, she had run out of the
shed crying while pulling down her sweet yellow sundress.

I was devastated,
and that was a major blow to my seventeen-year-old ego.

I’ll admit it, I
had a lot to learn.

However, I had to
learn it elsewhere since she was no longer game. In fact, she avoided me (just
like at this rehearsal).

But I did learn. I
was determined to improve, to not make her cry next time. But, unfortunately,
there never was a next time.

Eventually, Mrs.
Callahan down the street was kind enough to take me under her wing. Teach me
the ins and outs of women. Of pleasure. Of discovering what I wanted and what I
wanted to give in return.

Mrs. Callahan.

Yeah.

She made me call
her that, too. And I did (when I wasn’t calling her Mistress).

I learned.

I perfected.

I dreamt of one
day getting another shot with the love of my life.

Now here we stand,
across from each other. My eyes on her. Her eyes on everything but me.

I want her.

I need her.

Still.

Even after all
these years.

As I stand across
from her, I’m mesmerized by her unforgettable, stunning beauty.

I love her.

But I can’t have
her.

And that fucking
blows.

****

Bree:

At dinner, I watch
him over the rim of my wine glass. My eyes narrow as he leans over to say
something quietly into the ear of one of the bridesmaids. The single one with
the big boobs that made sure she snagged the chair next to him. She throws her
little blonde head back and laughs. He smiles in response, his golden-green
eyes sparkling. They have a secret. Apparently a funny one, too.

She can laugh with
him all she wants, but she needs to know... he’s mine.

He’s been mine
ever since we lost our virginity together all those years ago.

Maybe he didn’t
realize it then. He doesn’t realize it now.

Maybe, just maybe,
he needs a lesson.

One different from
what that whore Mrs. Callahan taught him.

Yes, I know all
about Mrs. Callahan and Noah.

And what she did
to my Noah.

Days later I followed
him, trying to catch up with him to apologize for running out crying after he
popped my cherry. I even called out his name, but he didn’t hear me. Or maybe
he was ignoring me. Probably because I disappointed him that day in the shed
and he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

But then he went
to her house. I watched (in shock) as
the door opened and he was pulled inside. He had just turned eighteen. Barely
legal. That bitch was like a hundred at the time.

Okay, probably the
same age as we are now. Though, back then, it might as well have been a
hundred.

She opened the
door wearing some sexy almost see-through nightie. One I would have killed to
own (and fill out like her). Her eyes flicked up to me and I froze. She smiled
like a predator at Noah, snagged his arm and dragged him inside. Then she aimed
that smile at me as she shut the door behind him.

I ended up
following him more than once. More than twice.

I’m embarrassed to
admit how often it truly was.

But what he
learned, I did, too. I watched them.

And one day when I
was hidden, I saw it happen.

She had her
husband’s belt. And she whipped him with it while he was on his knees, his head
to the mattress.

I watched him
twitch with every strike. His ass getting redder with every blow. And she
wasn’t gentle. No. She struck him hard, often, but I couldn’t hear if he made a
noise. If he cried out, if he asked her to stop.

Though, it didn’t
appear so.

He could have
escaped, gotten away. He wasn’t tied in any fashion, he wasn’t restrained. He
moved into position willingly with, from what I could see, his eyes showing
excitement.

A smile curled
that witch’s lips as she did it.

I got scared while
watching her hit him.

Not for him.

No.

But for me.

Because I realized
what she gave, what he willingly accepted, did something inside of me. It lit a
fire in my belly, caused goosebumps to break out all over my body, tightened my
nipples, made me slick between the thighs.

What Mrs. Callahan
was doing should have disturbed me. It didn’t.

It excited me.

I wanted to switch
places with her.

Now, I not only
wanted Noah, I wanted to do things to him I never expected.