Scared of Forever (Scared #2)

  Scared of Forever

  by Jacqueline Abrahams

  Copyright © 2014 Jacqueline Abrahams

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Editor: Kyla Stein of Missed Period Editing for Indies

  Formatting: Jesse Gordon

  Cover Design: Jacqueline Abrahams / ilgeorgiev

  Acknowledgements

  For coining the notion of the star-crossed lovers, I sincerely thank William Shakespeare. I hope I have done the idea proud in Scared of Forever. It’s an amazing feeling to finish a novel, but it’s not without sacrifice. Ever. Seriously, I mean lots of things have to take a back seat. Like sleep and eating…

  So, thank you to my family; my husband and children and my parents for realizing that I am really living out a dream sitting at this desk in my living room. There is no support worth more gratitude than time. And you have given me that. So thank you. And for allowing me to sleep in the next day, when I was recovering from the self-inflicted exhaustion of sitting at the computer all night.

  To Emily. Yes I know she is a fictional character, I haven’t lost my mind! Some parts of an author’s own dreams, self-image, and visions of oneself and others always make it into a novel. We draw from the world around us. Emily represented my own version of an empowered woman. She was strong, resilient, courageous, flaky, unsure, scared, forgiving, determined. She amassed all the emotions of the human spirit. Loving mother, individual person and loving partner, she wore all hats. To me, her character provided a benchmark for my own aspirations towards a higher self, an evolved femininity. So thanks, Emily Carson, for being overall fucking awesome!

  To my beta readers, thank you for your unbiased and honest critique of my ‘first final’ draft. The emotionally vested me couldn’t see glaringly obviously plot holes. But you did. Thank you all for not holding back. A very special thank you to Marimae and Kurstie, my beta readers, friends and providers of the most honest to goodness brutal truths. For your time and support, thank you a shitload!

  Kyla Stein of Missed Period Editing for Indies, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the Gods were shining down on me the day I found you. Thank you for your words of encouragement, words of ‘what the’ and words that made my words sound so much better! I don’t think I’ll ever cease to be amazed at what you do to my manuscripts.

  And last, but most definitely not least, the readers of Scared of Beautiful and Infinite Fear, those who reviewed and have supported me thus far. Also the future readers of Scared of Forever, I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on a newbie!

  “For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo”

  William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” (1594)

  Prologue

  When the universe was handing out charisma and charm, Blake Carson was very first in line. He had, however, skipped the line completely when the universe was handing out humility.

  Blake Carson is a man who knows what he wants, and knows precisely how to get it. Sitting at the restaurant’s bar, Blake stirs a cocktail stick idly in his whiskey. It’s starting to become apparent to him that his date is not going to show. She’s mad again, as fucking usual. Mad about the fact that their relationship has to be conducted behind closed doors. Fuck all of them, she says. Why does everyone else’s opinion matter so much to you? She asks. But she doesn’t understand the pressure Blake is under. How much it costs him, both financially and personally, to keep her happy. Aria succeeded in both satisfying and draining him simultaneously. She was definitely an amazing woman. But Blake wondered, for a moment, what life would be like if he was dating an uncomplicated girl. A sweet girl, one who had no idea who he was, no reason to be with him other than, well, to be with him.

  Like that one. His eyes wander to the stunning, leggy waitress serving an elderly couple at a table across the room.

  Her long, golden blond hair is pulled into a neat ponytail, and falls in soft waves down her back. Blake admires, from his vantage point, the errant strands of hair that have come loose, framing her flawless face. Her whole demeanor seems to exude innocence and purity from within. Just the kind of girl that his mother, Eliza Carson, would welcome into her house. Moldable, pliable; the perfect wife for Blake’s future plans.

  She walks toward the bar, and Blake raises a hand to gesture her over. “Can I help you?” the girl asks. She’s soft spoken. For a moment, he’s transfixed by her innocence. The way her almond shaped brown eyes widen ever so slightly as they meet his. There’s no judgment there, no questions. She doesn’t cast her eyes over his clothing, examining the cost of his suit or the carat of his cuff links before deciding whether or not to smile. She just does.

  “Can I order a water, please?” Blake asks, the question dripping with his God given charm. He can see in her eyes that the girl finds him attractive. He can tell by the way she stands, her hand on her hip, leaning in ever so slightly. The way she casually pulls her ponytail over her shoulder to rest on her right breast. A young, perky breast at that.

  “You can,” she quips, looking as though she may reply sarcastically at first. But then she realizes her place. Sarcasm in an upper class restaurant like this one, as a member of the wait staff, would probably yield the same results as her handing in a resignation if she addressed the wrong person that way. Lucky for her, she’s in exactly the right place, with exactly the right person.

  “The bartender usually tends to drinks,” she says more politely before beginning her departure. “But I can get it for you.”

  Blake watches her tight ass, hips swaying ever so slightly as she walks away.

  She comes back a minute later with the water and places it carefully on a coaster in front of him.

  “You haven’t been doing this very long, have you?” Blake asks.

  “Is it that obvious?” The girl looks deflated. “It’s my second shift here.”

  “It is,” Blake replies. “It’s apparent by the way your hand trembled when you picked up the glass. By the way you walk at a much quicker pace when your tray is empty, but you slow right down the minute there’s something on it. Even if it’s just a credit card and bill. So— scared.”

  “It’s kind of creepy to know that you’ve been sitting here alone, analyzing me for that long,” she retorts, a feeble attempt at hiding her flattery.

  “If I’m being honest, I haven’t really been able to take my eyes off you.” Blake knows the line is cheesy as shit. “So, can you help me stop being a stranger staring at you, and tell me your name?”

  “My name is Emily,” she replies.

  “Emily?” Blake asks. “No surname, just one moniker?”

  “Emily. For the moment.”

  “Well, Emily. Hypothetically speaking, if I came in tomorrow, would you be here?” Blake asks.

  “Unless I get fired tonight as a result of my obvious inexperience,” she says. The light from the extravagant chandelier reflects in the warmth of her innocent brown eyes. They sparkle brightly.

  “Perfect,” Blake says, before paying his tab with a hundred dollar bill. “Bye, Emily.” He stands and walks out of the restaurant.

  If there’s one thing Blake Carson knows how to do, it’s make an impression.

  The following day, Blake comes int
o the restaurant again, sits in the same spot, orders the same drink, and asks Emily the same question about the next day.

  He does this for the following four days. By day five, the young, pretty waitress is getting pissed. She walks right past him when he sits down, and doesn’t respond when he raises his hand for service. So he waits for the next three hours, leaning against his shiny BMW, where it is parked in front of the restaurant.

  He knows she’ll go out via the side alleyway that flanks the building. But he’s already worked out that she has to walk out of the alley to get onto the street. It’s a one way. A way that will guide her directly into his waiting arms.

  When Emily walks out of the alleyway, she sees him standing there and begins to walk in the opposite direction.

  “Aren’t you going to ask why I haven’t asked you for your number yet?” Blake calls.

  “I don’t care,” Emily says over her shoulder, still strutting purposefully ahead. Good thing he wants in her pants so badly; otherwise, no woman alive would have Blake Carson willingly chasing her along a street.

  “You do, or else you wouldn’t have answered,” Blake says smugly, and waits for her to stop walking.

  One step, two steps, stop.

  An hour later, Blake is driving towards his apartment, Emily’s number in his phone. And a coffee date with her planned for the next day. It was always going to happen this way. Blake Carson always gets what he wants.

  One Month Later…

  It appeared, to Blake, that Serendipity and Cupid had been conspiring with the Gods of sexual favor. Not only was Emily sweet, unassuming, and innocent, not to mention completely infatuated with him, but delicate young Emily was also a virgin. Blake had considered it strange that she had stiffened like a board the first time he kissed her, later obsessively overanalyzing the way his lips had moved against hers. Had she hated it, he wondered? Surely not. Blake knew he had a reputation for being fantastic with his mouth.

  It was only at their next meeting that she had admitted that she had never ‘been intimate’ with anyone. Fucking, to him, was less than intimate. But he didn’t dare tell her that, nor utter it aloud. Since then, his desire for her had increased tenfold. Driving to pick her up for their fifth date, Blake thought about fucking her. It was all he could think about recently. It was the daydream that came to mind every time he had satisfied himself in the shower that week.

  He had, in his mind, conjured up a million different scenarios for their first time together, each one more intense than the last. The only constant was the imagined feeling of how tight she would be. Untouched, untainted, unseen by another living being. That pussy was all his. He would be the first, and he will be the last. Just the thought of it hardened his dick in his pants.

  Blake had sincerely intended to keep one woman in his life. Emily. But he had discovered that managing two had been a lot easier than he initially thought. He still needed to fuck someone while waiting for Emily to give herself to him. And Blake Carson now had the best of both worlds.

  Emily appeared at the car shortly after he pulled up. She must have been waiting. Tonight, he had planned for an expensive dinner to be catered at his apartment. She would think it was extremely sweet of him, and feel very special and spoiled. He would have her in close proximity to his bedroom. It was a win/win situation.

  “Hi,” Emily says with a soft smile.

  “Hey yourself,” Blake replies smoothly, greeting her with a charming smile as he leans over to kiss her gently on the cheek. The feeling was thrilling. He felt like a teenager again, at an age when even second base was fucking awesome. But tonight, he would go beyond second base. He would have her legs wrapped around him before sunup. He’d deflower her in the worst possible way, or in her likely opinion, the best possible way.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “I have a surprise,” Blake replies with a wink.

  “Sounds interesting,” she says with a seductive smile.

  Tonight will be the night.

  Minutes later, Blake pulls the car into his parking space. He stares openly at Emily as the elevator takes them to his floor. She blushes furiously under his intense gaze, her eyes lowered to examine the apparently very interesting carpet below her feet. Tonight she has worn a shorter and tighter than usual black dress. It clings to the curves of her hourglass frame. How can no one have ever fucked a girl so beautiful?

  “Wow,” Emily exclaims openly as Blake ushers her into his apartment. “You live here?”

  “It’s my family’s,” Blake says simply. He and his mother had already discussed the fundamentals of oversharing when it came to their family’s wealth. She was very insistent on his avoidance of gold diggers. When Blake had described Emily as a sweet, orphaned country girl, his mother had been skeptical. She had insisted on meeting Emily and vetting her herself. But Blake had made excuses. He’d be damned if he was going to allow his mother to chase away his perfectly perfect pussy.

  They settled in to dinner. “Did you make this?” Emily asks, after tasting the first mouthful of the roasted duck salad.

  “I did,” Blake nods. Sometimes his ability to lie so fluidly scared even him.

  “Are you just all around perfect?” she asks.

  “No one’s perfect,” Blake replies. “But you come very close.”

  Her cheeks flush crimson, and Blake is satisfied.

  Surprisingly, it is Emily who makes the first move. In a bold display, she leans in towards him while they sit on the couch and crashes her lips into his. Her hands immediately find his hard on. He had thought that he would have had to work harder for this.

  Emily moves across Blake’s body, straddling him. Her dress rides up towards her hips, giving him a glimpse of the Promised Land, which he was sure would be raining wet by the time he got to it. He wanted to be gentle. He knew how much the first time hurt for women. He’d taken his fair share of virginities. But the need was so intense. Her body looked so enticing, so ready as she displayed it before him.

  Blake doesn’t hesitate. He rips both of their clothes off and dives in, flipping her onto her back on the sofa. He kisses her fiercely down her neck, finally taking each soft nipple into his mouth. His dick is throbbing, begging for release. Begging for her. Blake looks up and sees a small glistening in Emily’s eye. A tear. So he ignores his dick’s insistence and slows down briefly, stopping to kiss her softly. When he finally slides into her again, she lets out a pained whimper, biting fiercely on her bottom lip. This will be the first and last time Emily ever shows Blake that she’s in pain when he fucks her. He owns her completely now.

  After the pain passes, Emily finds herself succumbing to the motion of Blake’s hips, and becomes drawn into the feeling of his body pressed against hers. Horror stories of losing one’s virginity are plentiful. This doesn’t seem horrific to Emily. In fact, this is exactly what she wanted. To give herself freely to a man that she loved. And she was fairly certain that she was capable of being in love with Blake Carson, if she wasn’t already. He was so charming and seemed so sincere.

  Emily feels a little more than satisfied with herself to hear Blake moaning in pleasure as he moves in and out of her. She tries her hardest to brave the painful burn. After a few gentle thrusts, he pushes himself in deeper, harder. Emily bites on her lip. A beautiful pain. Tears cascade down her cheeks. With nothing to compare this experience to, Emily can only assume that the horror stories were true. The pain was excruciating.

  Blake spends the entire night with his arms wrapped tightly around Emily. She drifts in and out of sleep, trying to ignore the constant pain in her groin, but also luxuriating in the feeling of true womanhood.

  “Hi,” Blake says with a sweet smile as Emily wakes to a bright and sunny morning. The glare from the full wall of windows assaults her vision, and she squints her eyes in response. In his hand, he holds a tray with coffee and blueberry bagels.

  “Morning,” Emily says, pulling the sheets to cover her naked body as she sits upright.<
br />
  “Don’t hide from me,” Blake says, pulling the sheets away, eyes taking in every part of her nakedness. His aura is positively alight with lust.

  “Blake,” Emily says with trepidation, not wanting to offend or disappoint him. “I—”

  “It’s okay,” Blake says gently, kissing her on the temple. “We don’t have to do that again now. Just as long as you promise we will do that again. Soon.”

  “Definitely,” Emily smiles.

  Over the next few months, Blake would take great pleasure in schooling his future bride on all things coital. He would laugh when he guided her head gently onto his cock for her very first blowjob and she gagged violently. She was horrified; Blake was thrilled. As time progressed, Emily mastered her technique. Slowly, she became more confident. But she was, for all her efforts, a poor substitute to Blake’s mistress. So Blake Carson kept them both. With Emily’s virginity added to his list of lifetime achievements, he really did feel on top of the world. But more importantly, with Emily, Blake didn’t feel like such a fraud. Not quite so artificial. Blake Carson always got what he wanted. And he wanted everything.

  Chapter 1:

  Blake

  I steal a glance at Emily as we pull up to the lights. I’m one lucky fucking guy. Her long, almost-blonde hair falls like a glorious curtain to the side as she leans forward to grab her handbag. My eyes steal a glimpse of the soft flesh of her breast as her sweater opens invitingly.

  “What do you think?” she asks.

  “Hmmm, oh, about what?” I respond distractedly.

  She offers me a cocky grin. “What exactly was running through your mind that you didn’t hear a word I said?” she teases.

  “Guess,” I say, low.

  “Do I really need to?” she grins. “But you may want to consider pulling off,” she advises, pointing at the now green traffic signal. Oh the hidden meaning!