Because of You Page 22
I take his face between my hands, pulling him on top of me. “Each tattoo represents one of the seven stages of grief. The final two are rebirth and hope.”
He nods. “Maybe you and I should get a tattoo together.”
“Maybe,” I say, too interested in what’s happening right here and now. I push his shirt off his shoulders, down his arms. He unhooks my bra and caresses me with his hands, and then his lips. Suckling. Nudging. Kissing. “You’re gorgeous,” I say, awed by him.
“So are you,” he whispers.
For the next who knows how long, it’s Kyle and I, our bodies entwined exquisitely together for the first time. It’s everything I ever imagined and so much more. Words can’t do what I experience with him justice. And when it’s over I feel like crying, not because of pain or embarrassment or regret, but because I love him so much. And I felt his love for me in every one of his movements, in the way he looked at me, is looking at me now, and in the way he caressed my body. I loved him before, but if it’s possible I love him ever more now.
Kyle kisses each of my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and then my lips softly. “Beautiful, Freckles, are you okay?”
“Yes.” I sniffle. “More than okay.” I say, feeling within my body to determine whether any part of me feels sore. There isn’t. In all honesty, I feel amazing. Tired yet relaxed. And hungry for more of him. I trail a finger along his muscled arms. Kyle smiles.
“How was I?” I ask, worried I sucked. My kissing skills hadn’t been great the first time.
His smile gets wider. “Terrible, Freckles.”
“Really?” I know he’s teasing, but I’m sure I wasn’t that great.
“We are definitely going to have to practice. A lot.” He kisses my neck and nudges my ear.
I giggle. “I like that sound of that.”
Maddie
ow bad is this going to hurt?” Kyle whispers as we walk into the tattoo parlor.
“It’ll hurt…some.” I shrug. It’s the kind of pain I like. Especially today, on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths.
Tony steps up to the counter. “Back again, huh?” His eyes sweep over me, and then he glances at Kyle.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Tony, this is Kyle.”
“Good to meet you, son. What kind of tattoo are you interested in?”
Kyle shows him a piece of paper. On it he’s drawn a pair of wings with the tips on fire. He won’t tell me what it means, and I don’t pry. Tattoos are private. “I was hoping to get this. Only better, of course.”
“I think we can handle that. Carl will be your artist.”
At the mention of his name, Carl comes over. Tony hands him the paper. “Think you can work your magic and create something like this?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll make it bitchin’. Come on back.”
Kyle mouths the work bitchin’ to me, and I shrug. He follows Carl over to a cubicle. Carl has a sketchbook out and is asking Kyle questions as he draws. When he’s finished he’ll scan it into the computer and render a tattoo.
Tony gives me another once over. “And what about you?”
“I’m thinking a phoenix with the word hope somewhere in the wings,” I say somewhat tentatively.
“Cool. Let’s get to work.” I follow him to his workstation, which is a cubicle with a computer and some art books sitting on a desk. We discuss what I have in mind. Tony pulls up different ideas on his computer. He rearranges things so the tattoo is to my liking. When he’s finished, he presses Print. “Where do you want it?”
I stand and point at my right hip, below the bone.
“Cool.” He nods.
“What does it mean? This one.” He taps on the screen.
“Nothing,” I answer, since it’s none of his business.
Tony snorts. “Whatever, kid.” He pulls the special tattoo transfer paper off the printer. “Come on back.”
I follow him into the room with the yellow curtain.
“Take off your pants and lie back, Maddie.”
I cover my mouth to hide the snort. Unbutton my pants, slide them off, and hop up on the chair. Tony goes through the motions. Gloves. Gauze. He moves the strap on my bikinis and wipes the area on my hip with rubbing alcohol.
“Holy shit,” I hear Kyle shout from the front.
Tony looks at me. “Your friend’s first time.”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
He puts the transfer below my bone. “Right here?”
“Perfect,” I say.
He turns on the gun. I close my eyes. Brace myself for the pain. And though I’m still looking forward to it, I realize I’m also done. Because in the past year I’ve learned a lot, but the biggest lesson is that death is part of life. I can’t get away from it, but that doesn’t mean I should stop living. It means I need to live each day to its fullest. And I realize I can’t control when my time will come, but I can control how I spend the time I have.
Maddie
he cemetery is peaceful. A light breeze pushes the leaves. The sound reminds me of the ocean at sunrise, its waves rolling lazily to shore. The sky is clear and blue. There’s no one around but the chirping birds, the dead, and me.
I make my way through the gravestones. My parents are buried under a giant oak near the back. Their headstone is in the shade, away from the summer heat. In my hands are a bunch of daisies, my mom’s favorite flower. I’ve placed them in an empty beer bottle—my dad’s favorite kind.
“Hi, Mom and Dad. Sorry it’s been so long. It was really hard to visit you here. Knowing I can’t see you. Wondering…” Tears build and roll down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away. Crying is part of grieving, and I know it’s necessary. I sniffle. “But I’m trying. No, actually I’m doing better than trying. I’m living my life the best way I can.” I place the bouquet of flowers in front of their headstone and step back. “Kyle is in my life. He’s all grown up, and he’s amazing. Better than I ever imagined. With him by my side I know I’ll be okay.”
A breeze whips past my face and I imagine it’s my mom and dad, hugging me. When it passes, I take another step back. “Aunt Eliza and Uncle John have been great to me. They aren’t the same as having real parents, but they’re close. Aunt Eliza is always telling me to live a little. Well I intend to do that. Live each day with hope. With love. And without excuses.”
RaShelle Workman is the author of the popular Blood and Snow series. She loves to reinvent fairy tales readers can sink their teeth into. Her stories include vampires, werewolves, witches, aliens, and creatures of her own creation. Her books: Sleeping Roses, Exiled, Beguiled, and Dovetailed have foreign rights contracts with a Turkish publisher. RaShelle is also one of the co-founders of IndiePUBCon. Currently, she lives in Utah with her husband, three children, and their three dogs.
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A popular, young royal couple can’t produce an heir? INCONCEIVABLE!
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Undercover Empath, by RaShelle Workman
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Nineteen-year-old detective Rose Hansen has a secret. She can read a person’s intentions by touching their hands. It’s a curse! A power she never uses if she can help it.
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He leaves her an envelope, but not before articulating his disappointment in her for ignoring her powers.
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Aside from that, Rose and her partner have two important cases they’re working. The first involves a missing child. The other is the death of a stripper. Ruled a murder, a very hot FBI agent from L.A. shows up and is given lead. To make matters worse, he asks her to go undercover.
Her life is a disaster. Rose can’t strip. She doesn’t even own a dress.
Appetizer:
Book Cover
Title Page
Main Course:
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
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Epilogue
Dessert:
Closing
About the Author
Copyright & Publisher
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