Blissful volume 2 (New Adult Romance) Read online

  Blissful Vol. 2

  Copyright 2013 Clarissa Wild

  Mending our hearts isn’t as easy as it seems

  Meeting Jack has been an eye opener for a curvy girl like me. Only now do I realize that there are good men in the world who deserve more love. He’s a sexy hardworking man, and his ranch and daughter are all he has left. Passion is missing in his life.

  I want to give him what he needs, but he won’t let me. Then again, I’m not sure what I want either. My career as a singer songwriter has been on hold ever since I met him, and now I miss it more than anything. I know I’ll have to make a choice someday.

  However, I also know that Jack’s hiding his past from me, and the truth will come out sooner or later…

  When I met Amy I never imagined wanting her as much as I do now. I’m starting to fall for her, and I don’t know if I can hold back any longer. I’m afraid, though. What if her loving brings back those painful memories from the past? I’ve been drowning the sorrow in alcohol for as long as I can remember. If the wounds in my heart tear open again, I’m not sure I can resist the urge to stop living.

  Only Amy can rescue me now, and I hope it’s not too late … for the both of us.

  This is volume 2 of Blissful and contains about 23500 words.

  This story contains explicit sex and foul language. Suitable for ages 17+.

  Want to get an email when my next book is released?

  Sign up here to receive a free story: http://eepurl.com/FdY71

  Links to Clarissa Wild’s books

  NEW!

  Blissful Vol. 1

  ~ ~ ~

  The Billionaire’s Bet (Boxed Set)

  Which includes:

  (FREE!) The Billionaire’s Bet #1: A Seductive Deal

  The Billionaire’s Bet #2: A Hot Call

  The Billionaire’s Bet #3: A Risky Raise

  The Billionaire’s Bet #4: A Final Game

  ~ ~ ~

  Enflamed (Boxed Set)

  Which includes:

  (FREE!) Raveled By You (Enflamed, #1)

  Hooked By You (Enflamed, #2)

  Cling To You (Enflamed, #3)

  Cherished By You (Enflamed, #4)

  ~ ~ ~

  Doing It (Boxed Set)

  Which includes:

  Doing It Wild (Doing It, #1)

  Doing It Risqué (Doing It, #2)

  Doing It Free (Doing It, #3)

  ~ ~ ~

  Short Stories:

  First Dance With You

  Visit Clarissa Wild on Amazon for current titles.

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook 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 another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 1

  Amy

  My head is pressed against his chest, and I can feel his heart beating. The sound puts me at ease. Holding him is consoling, and it subdues my anger. It’s warm, even in the pouring rain. We’re soaking wet, but I don’t want to let go. Enjoying this moment in time just for a little longer is all I ever wished for.

  We say nothing. There are no words that can make this moment any better. Nothing we can say will heal the pain in our hearts. Only love can.

  Jack lifts my chin and presses his lips softly onto mine. He feels different. This isn’t like the kisses he gave me before in the kitchen when he was drinking. This feels like an apology. As if he’s going soft on me, afraid of hurting me. I’m melting and yielding to his love.

  When his lips leave mine, he smiles shortly, and then grabs the suitcase from my car. One of his arms curls around my waist as we both walk back to the house. He hauls my suit case in with no problem as if it doesn’t weigh as much as he thought. Last time he called it elephant-sized luggage. I’m still chuckling, remembering his jokes. It’s as if this lingering afterthought makes me fall in love even more.

  We look at each other just standing there in the hallway. He opens his mouth, preparing to speak, but stops halfway through. I open mine, but then I don’t know what to say either.

  “I … I don’t want you to leave,” he says.

  “Yeah, you already told me a couple of times,” I say, chuckling.

  “Just wanted to reiterate that.” A flush appears on his cheeks.

  “I know.” We smile and stand there looking really awkward. The floor is wet from our shoes, and I watch the drops of water fall down from his hair.

  “Listen … I …” he says, and scratches his head.

  I shush him. “You don’t need to say anything. I understand. You want me, but you don’t want me.”

  He laughs. “Something like that.”

  “It’s cool. I get it,” I say, sighing. “Boys are so complicated sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry, I just need some more time.” He steps forward and laces his fingers softly through mine. “It’s not easy to do this. Especially not overnight.”

  “It’s okay. We can take it slow.”

  I take a step forward, too. I’m right below his nose, staring up into his eyes as if I’m making a promise to him. I don’t want to say it, the words are too demanding, but I tell him with my eyes. I will wait for him, but I won’t wait eternally. He’ll have to decide what to do some time.

  He gives me a short peck on my forehead, and then he steps back again. “You’re soaked. How about you take a nice hot shower? I’m sure you could use one.”

  Chortling, I say, “You’re soaking wet, too.”

  “I can wait. I’ll take your car back to the garage in the mean time.”

  I squint, knowing he’s just making up stuff to do, so he won’t have to twiddle his thumbs. He could take a shower with me … but I guess that’d be inappropriate considering short the time we’ve known each other. Besides, he wants to wait.

  I have to do my best not to roll my eyes, because of what I think. My lusty brain took a hold of me for a second, giving me all these dirty images of what I wanted to do to him in the shower. My heart, however, knows quite well it’s too soon. I just left my ex. I can’t jump into the depths like this. I need my foothold back on earth before I do.

  “Guess I’ll go upstairs, then,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  We both don’t really know what to say, I guess. After the uncomfortable realization that we wanted to tear each other’s clothes off, our conversations have turned rather fickle. It’s quite funny, actually.

  I walk up the stairs, and he watches me as I go into the bathroom. I close the door behind me and lean against the wood, letting out a huge breath. I can’t believe I’m still here. I can’t believe what happened tonight. I never believed Jack would like me, and then he was groping me all of the sudden. It’s like a dream come true. Well, except the part of him telling me to leave after, that is.

  I pull my wet shirt over my head and strip down to my underwear. My panties are sticking to my skin, and I’m cold as ice. Damn, he was right. I’m craving for a hot shower.

  Jerking away the curtain, I discover a tub shower combo. I hold onto the wall for support as I step inside. I turn on the water and gasp as the hot water falls onto my skin. Steppin
g under completely, I enjoy the damp heat around me and the water that gushes around me like a warm blanket.

  The silence makes me think of everything that happened the last couple of days. So many things cross my mind. Ronnie Keston and the way he kissed Nicole Perelli, my best friend. How I disappeared from my own life to take a break. That I found Jack or rather Jack found me. That we kissed. And boy, those kisses were hot.

  I close my eyes and let out a bothered moan. Why do I have to think about these things? Thinking only makes it more difficult to understand, but it does give room for processing. I just don’t know what to do about this situation. Jack and I are obviously attracted to each other, but I’m wondering whether it’s love or pure lust.

  I’m sad and depressed from my failed marriage attempt. Jack’s scarred by his past, although I still have no clue what happened to him. Alcohol has become his way to deal with it, though. I wonder if my way of dealing with things is any better. Avoiding pain is never good.

  I turn around and lean my head against the wall. I wonder if I’m even in love with Jack. He’s kind, good-hearted, witty and handsome, but still … it’s so quick. It’s too soon to decide. Memories of Ronnie and the pain I’m trying to swallow away endure while I’m trying to forge a new life for myself. Maybe Jack belongs in this new life, and maybe he doesn’t. I don’t know yet. It might be that I’m just using his love to get over Ronnie. That he’s just a rebound and that this is nothing more than a short fling.

  Well, whatever it is, I need more time to figure it out. I can’t just leave it like this. I need to find out what I want. If I want to stay here and build a life with him, or if I want to get over my heartbreak and get on with my life. And then there’s the fact that I still haven’t thought about what to do with my career. It’s been on hold ever since I ran away, but I have to find out what to do at some point. Singing is an important part of my life, and I can’t just let it go that easily.

  Opening my mouth, I can’t help but let the notes flow out. It’s been such a long time since I last sang a song, and this feels like it needs to get out.

  I wish I knew

  Knew the words I wanted say to you

  If I knew what my heart desired

  I’d never let you go

  Whatever you are

  Wherever you are

  I will find you

  I will find you

  Just a little time is all I need

  To find you

  I sing soft, so only I can hear it. My voice is raspy in the end. Every word is a shot directly into the heart. I’m pouring my soul out, letting it flow with the water and disappear into the drain. The words mean everything and nothing at the same time, but they draw out emotions I’m afraid to feel.

  I can’t do this alone.

  I can’t go through these emotions alone.

  Turning off the shower, I step out and grab a towel from a stack to the left. When I’ve dried myself, I notice that the only clothes I have lying around here are soaking wet. My eyes widen, realizing what this means. I’ll have to run across the hall to get to my room and put some clothes on.

  No way in hell I’m going to do that.

  Shit, shit, shit, what should I do? What if little Madeline wakes up all of the sudden and discovers me bolting naked through the hall? Well, that would be a sight. And damn, I’m not ready for Jack seeing my fat ass yet.

  I look around and notice that there’s another door to left of the shower. It might lead to a room where I can find something to cover myself up. I decide to take a leap of faith and open the door just far enough so that I can peek through the gap.

  It’s a bedroom with a wooden wall, a big cozy bed in the middle, and a mirror to the side. There’s a closet in the wall, and next to it are a couple of thick muddy boots lying on the floor. It smells like aftershave in here.

  My god. This is his room.

  I scan the bedroom to see if it’s clear, and then I sneak inside. I bolt toward the closet and rummage inside. What I find surprises me, though. On the floor is a box with pink skirts and black tank tops that are just my size. Why does Jack have women’s clothes? Delving through the box, I find a framed picture. It reminds me of the night I found Jack with a picture in his hands, lying on the couch. It’s the same woman on it, only a different photograph.

  It’s not my business. I shouldn’t be looking at this. It’s probably something he wants to keep secret, and if he does want to tell me, I guess I should wait for that.

  Shrugging, I put on one of the tops that I actually fit into. I hear something creak behind me, and I turn around. Startled, I shriek. Jack’s here.

  Lucky one of the towels is still covering my lower part, otherwise he would’ve seen something I’m not proud of.

  “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know you went in here,” he says. He immediately puts his hand in front of his eyes. “What are you doing in here?” he asks, slightly confused.

  “I uh … I didn’t bring any clean clothes, and I didn’t want to run across the hall butt naked, so I thought I’d grab some of yours.” I stammer. “I mean not yours, but the ones I found here.”

  “Yeah, I could see that,” he says, and he comes toward me. “And more.” The grin on his face makes heat pool in my belly.

  With flushed cheeks I back away from the closet, feeling embarrassed. He finds his way to the closet and grabs a pair of lounge pants hanging from the rack. “Here, take this.” With his eyes still closed he holds it out to me and waits for me to take it, and then he closes the closet door behind him. He keeps standing there, though, as if he’s protecting it from unwanted visitors like me.

  I gulp and take the pants from his hands. Damn, I wonder why he doesn’t want me to see what’s inside the closet.

  “Thanks,” I say, and I quickly put on the lounge pants.

  “Don’t mention it. Keep it if you like.”

  I smile, but I know he can’t see it. He’s still standing there, arms crossed, guarding the closet door. I wonder what’s making him so defensive, but I guess it’s not my place to argue about it right now, so I turn around and walk out the door.

  ***

  I’m lying in bed, but I can’t sleep. My brain is still too active. I’m pondering about what to do now that I know this could be a new life for me. Should I take this chance? Should I just take a leap of faith and go for it? On the other hand, there’s no guarantee Jack actually wants me on the long run. Maybe he’s just confused about what he wants, as I am.

  Singing is something I miss, too. I want my voice to reach people. I want to be somebody. Go places. Meet people. Make them want to hear my music and love it. I doubt this is the place to do it. I can’t imagine anyone getting a musical career in this desolated place.

  I sigh and turn around on my other side. What should I do? I can’t just stumble into it. I really have to go for it, but I doubt my own decisions constantly. There’s so much going on right now. And then there’s the fact that I’m still not over Ronnie, even though I hate myself for it. I promised to God I would forget about him, but all I can think of is him kissing other girls. He’s probably having the time of his life now, finally being free of me.

  Frowning, I get up and sit on the edge of the bed. My thoughts are jumbled, and there’s no way I’m going to catch a good night sleep right now.

  I stand up, open the door, and step into the hallway. Somewhere up ahead I can hear the music playing on the radio. It’s soft, but still noticeable. I walk farther into the living room and find Jack slumped on the couch, drinking a glass of his bourbon.

  Why is he always drinking? Does he think it eases his troubles?

  I take a deep breath and walk up to him. There’s a fire burning in the chimney across the couch.

  Jack gazes up at me, and a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Hey. Can’t sleep either?”

  “No, not really,” I say, and I sit down on the couch next to him.

  He puts down his glass of bourbon on the table next to him. “Well,
at least you’re not alone.”

  I snort. “Like that’s of any use. If two people can’t sleep, that only means we’ll both be exhausted tomorrow. Not to mention cranky.”

  He chuckles. “Sounds like I don’t need to wait until tomorrow to see you cranky.”

  I roll my eyes, but the smirk appearing on his face makes me smile. Gazing ahead, the fire crackling catches my eye. The images that appear inside make me squint. Even in a chimney I can see Ronnie having sex with other girls. I feel like such an idiot for believing in him all this time. It’s making me sick.

  Tears well up in my eyes. Not because of what I’ve lost, but because I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed of not realizing sooner that he was a dick and that I needed to get out of that relationship.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jack asks me.

  I don’t want to turn my head to look at him. I don’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes.

  He leans forward to catch my gaze, but I turn my head sideways to avoid meeting his eyes. The more he tries to get my attention, the stupider I feel. I’m crying over stupid things here, and I don’t want Jack to know. Tears flow, and I can’t stop them anymore. My cheeks are already getting wet.

  “Hey,” he says, and he stands up. “Don’t be sad.”

  Immediately, I wipe away the moist on my face so that he won’t see it, but I think it’s already too late. He’s standing right in front of me and holds out his hand. I just stare at him, not knowing what he wants. It feels a bit uncomfortable after what happened this evening.

  He holds out another hand, sticking out both hands toward me. When I don’t take them, he reaches for my hands and takes them anyway.

  Flushing, I draw back into the couch, but he keeps his steady gaze on me. “Don’t be afraid. Hey, just because I’ve touched you a bit … inappropriately … after dinner, doesn’t mean that I’m going to do anything weird now.”

  Butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m floating. There it is. His recognition of what he did. That he groped me, and that I liked it.