Excerpts from My league of Love Series.
Falling for him is easy. Dealing with his high-profile life—a life deemed public property by his fans and the press, plus an ex-wife out for blood—now, that’s the hard part.
Twenty-year-old Caitlin Walters was living a normal life. She attended university, socialised a little and had a good relationship with her mother and stepfather. But when her parents are tragically killed in a car accident, Caitlin’s life is forced to change. The once carefree girl becomes sole guardian of her stepbrother. Giving up her university course to support and raise eleven-year-old Riley, Caitlin struggles to deal with her new responsibilities.
Her job, singing at a local Italian restaurant, brings Caitlin some peace. On stage, she leaves her life and its troubles behind. Feeling comfortable and sensuous, she is like a siren calling out to lost souls. It’s on one of these nights that Caitlin begins a romance with Australian Rugby League captain, Brodie James. Brodie, not content with his so-called perfect life and struggling with commitment issues following a disastrous marriage, falls hard for Caitlin.
The relationship does not run smoothly for the self-sacrificing Caitlin, as she learns how to deal with Brodie’s nasty, jealous ex-wife, a muck-raking reporter and intrusive but well-meaning rugby fans. Along the way she makes new friends, and awakens the untapped sensual desires of the woman inside.
She felt so soft against his rough, battered fingers, and he enjoyed the sensual feel of her skin. A picture of her—naked, hair splayed upon his pillow as he tasted her from the top of her pretty head to the tips of her toes—flashed into his mind, and his cock jerked again.
Brodie rubbed his hand over his head, raking his fingers through his close–cropped hair and massaging the back of his thick neck as he tried to get his thoughts under control, so he could actually speak words that made sense. All the time, he watched her gorgeous face for any sign of her wanting to flee.
Brodie finally spoke. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. You have the voice of an angel and the body of a temptress.”
He stopped, licked his lips. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as her tongue poked out from between her sensual lips for just the briefest moment. Brodie knew he had to make it fast or he was going to come in his pants. That was something that had never happened before, and the thought did not appeal to him. What was it about this woman that affected him so deeply?
“Would you care to join me for dinner tomorrow night? You pick, I’ll pick… I don’t care as long as you say yes,” he finished breathlessly.
Brodie watched and waited for any sign of hope from her motionless face. Terror filled him like nothing he’d felt before. What if she said no? What if he was just being an old fool? He didn’t feel quite as confident of the outcome as he had a moment ago. Before he could think of another approach, she threw herself at him again. It was just as well he still had quick reflexes, or he might have dropped her as she flung her arms around his neck the way she had at the pool. She was placing sweet little kisses up and down his jawline—my God, the woman is hot. She was killing him.
He grabbed her thighs so he could get a better grip on her. He was not going to drop his angel, that was for sure. She weighed next to nothing, but her tight dress and the fact she couldn’t wrap her legs around him was making it difficult for him to keep hold of her. He moved the dress up and hitched her hard against him as he repositioned his hands on her legs. It was then he realised he felt skin—she wasn’t wearing any stockings.
“Oh, angel,” Brodie groaned.
He was just holding on. Any minute now he would lose control, throw her to the ground and ravage her like a caveman. He had never felt so needy. He ground his lips down upon hers until she opened for him and he sank his tongue fully into her mouth and made a thorough exploration. She was so warm and sweet, like toffee, and he could have kissed her this way for hours. She pressed her tongue against his, at first timidly, then becoming bolder.
He had to have this woman. Brodie stroked his thumbs up her inner thighs. His hands were completely under the hem of her dress, and he could feel the edge of her underwear. Holding her cute behind with one hand, he moved her so she could sit on the bonnet of his car and immediately his cock throbbed at the loss of contact.
Brodie cupped her mound with his free hand. It was emitting such heat, and her panties felt moist. She stilled. It was as if a bright light flashed before his eyes, and the fog in Brodie’s head cleared. He dragged his lips away from hers and gently lifted her from her perch and slid her down his aching body, brushing past his engorged and incredibly painful erection. He knew she felt it, but what could he do? It was all for her, because of her.
Mandy’s He-man – League of Love Book 2
Having managed to break free from an abusive relationship with a cruel and dominating ex-boyfriend, Australian artist Mandy Magenta—a.k.a. Amanda Smith—should be terrified when she first meets the enormous bulk that is Jonathon ‘JT’ Thomson. He is fierce. Not only is JT the biggest, most muscular man Mandy has ever set eyes on, but he makes a living playing the brutal sport of Rugby League.
So why, then, does Mandy’s body go into lust overdrive at the mere sight of him? She doesn’t feel a hint of alarm as the colours that exist in her mind—created and inspired by her own emotions and her artistic talents—explode with vibrant and passionate intensity. Could JT be the man to remind her that she is still a sensual, amorous woman, a woman deserving of love and tenderness—and can he protect her from the threats her ex has promised to deliver on?
As they lay in each other’s arms, JT whispered to Mandy, “Happy birthday, Mags. Hope you’ve had a day to remember.”
“Oh, He-Man, the best ever. But it’s still my birthday and I want another present. It amazes me how something so hard can feel so soft to touch…” Mandy gave a sultry purr as she wrapped her palm around JT’s erection. “My favourite part is this raised bit, just here,” Mandy teased as her finger rimmed the mushroom-shaped head of JT’s penis, stopping at the slight join of flesh at the top. JT could only moan and growl in response as she wrapped her soft hand around his steel-hard cock.
Mandy lowered her head and blew gently on the enormous length that stood erect before her, then ran the tip of her tongue slowly over the same path that her finger had taken before it, loving the way JT jerked in response. She took him into her mouth slowly, pressing her lips together tightly to create just enough friction as she sucked his warm cock all the way into her mouth, until the head bumped the back of her throat.
Mandy tried to relax her throat even more, so she could take all of him, moving her mouth up and down. She grazed her teeth gently along the rigid shaft as she pumped her hand in a complementary rhythm.
She was enjoying herself, totally absorbed in her endeavours. She could feel the moisture building between her thighs and squeezed them together to try to ease the ache. Now she was so in tune with JT’s body, Mandy knew he was getting close. When he tried to pull her mouth away from his almost exploding cock, she shook her head and sucked harder.
“Woman, I’m coming in your mouth if you don’t let go. I can’t hold on any longer,” JT groaned.
Forty-two- year- old single mother Laura Harris devoted more than half her life to raising her son. She remembered the concept of having sex but it had been aeons since she’s actually been a participant – especially with a real flesh-and-blood partner. But it’s time to reclaim her life. Her son is a man now. And the rising star of the Jets rugby league team. Their future is brighter than ever and, for the first time, financially secure. But Laura is starting to think agreeing to have dinner with Trevor Hughes could be biting off more than she can chew. Not that she can’t see herself taking a nice big chunk from the absolutely gorgeous thirty-four-year-old sports commentator’s rump, he’s one prime piece of masculinity! She just isn’t sure how or when the whole sex thing will become an issue. She can’t even get past the what-to-wear step. Let alone the when-to-take-it-off stage…
Trevor Hughes usually avoids the woman with substance – he has enough of his own demons to deal without trying to care for anyone else. But there’s something about the upbeat, sexy, one-woman-dynamo Laura Harris. The woman is pure sunshine and happiness. And that’s surprising when you look at what life has handed her. Nothing seemed to dampen Laura’s spirits and she quickly becomes someone Trevor needs in his life…Until misunderstandings come between them. Can Trevor put things right?
“Decisions, decisions,” he moaned.
“Mmm… Did you say something?” Laura hummed in his ear.
“Just deciding what I want to do to you first—whether to get naked with you, or just eat your pussy first. I can’t make up my mind. It all seems so good.”
“Get naked, Trevor. Let me feel the warmth of your skin against mine.”
“Are you cold, honey? I didn’t even think…”
“No, not cold—burning, melting for you. Definitely not cold, but I still want to feel your skin against mine. Flesh to flesh, no barrier between us.”
Trevor decided that Laura was right—no barriers between them sounded good—but he had to move her so he could achieve that goal. As he gently lifted her smaller frame from his lap, ready to place her next to him on the couch Laura began to struggle. Worried that he was hurting her, Trevor let her go, let her move herself, only to discover that she had a plan of her own. Laura slid between his thighs kneeling on the carpet. The grin she gave him sent lightning bolts of pleasure through his system. Trevor remembered that look—that wicked, wonderful look. And so did his cock.
“Here, let me help you undress. I promise I’ll be extra careful!” Laura giggled as she teased Trevor, purposely brushing her hand over the hardness in the front of his pants, then cupping him gently. “Hmmm, you feel kinda worked up again. Isn’t that how you described it last time? When you cautioned me on the zipper thing.”
“Oh, hon, I’m past worked up—I’m about to explode.” Trevor gritted out.
“Maybe I can do something to help, then,” Laura purred.
She leant forward so as to reach the opening of his pants. With one hand, she carefully lowered the zipper completely—it had already been at half mast from when he had unbuttoned earlier to give himself more room, but now he was completely open. Laura grasped the waistband of Trevor’s pants.
As he did, she pulled them down past his hips, repeating the motion with his boxers. Once freed, Trevor’s shaft stood tall, rigid. As if it were beckoning her, she could not refuse its call. She ran her tongue around the circumference of his erect penis, the mushroom-like head, the joining of his skin. She laved and licked, explored every bulbous vein, every satiny bit of skin that covered his impressive form. Laura loved the taste of him, the slightly salty, musky maleness. She lapped at the pre-cum that formed at the eye before swallowing his erection down into her throat, loving the moans and grunts Trevor was making.
When he took hold of the sides of her head and drew her away, she didn’t fight him. It was time he buried that hard cock—that part of him that differentiated his maleness from her femininity—inside her dripping wet and throbbing pussy, where it belonged. “I need you, Laura, need to bury myself in you, want to come inside you.”
“I need that too, Trevor.”
Laura lay back on the carpet and spread her legs for him in an invitation for him to take her. She watched as he extracted a condom from the wallet he took from his now discarded pants’ pocket. He rolled the latex on and her mouth watered. Her folds wept with cream as the moment drew close—the moment she’d thought she would never feel again, that fullness she had craved for weeks and had been unable to attain at her own hands.
What’s a girl to do when her fantasy is within reach? Grab it with both hands, of course—then try to live with the consequences.
He was her childhood crush, her fantasy man. Pippa spent her teenage years surrounded by players from the Sydney Jets rugby league team, the fit and muscular bodies that made up the team her father used to coach an ever-present part of her formative years. But he is the only one of that group of high-profile men who has ever caught her interest. From the moment Pippa first set eyes on the handsome future star, he owned her heart. Mitchell ‘the Rookie’ Harris sauntered into her life and nothing has been the same since.
Excerpt – 18+
Pippa loved being in the spa, wrapped in Rook’s arms. Being able to stroke his legs and feel all that masculine power beneath her fingertips made her pussy clench in neediness again. When Rook began nibbling on her ear and neck, she couldn’t contain the moan that spilled from her. She lifted her mouth to his and licked at his bottom lip, begging for entry. Rook quickly granted her leave to explore his mouth, doing the same to hers in return.
Rook’s kisses were intoxicating. Pippa had been kissed but never so thoroughly that she lost her grip on reality. She let her mind drift and just enjoyed the feel of his tongue as it plundered and consumed her mouth. She was in heaven. She didn’t know how long they had been kissing for—it could have been minutes, hours or days—but she felt the loss when Rook pulled away.
“Kneel up and lean over the edge of the spa, princess. I need you again. Oh, babe, I need to feel my cock buried deep inside you. Are you wet for me, as ready for me as I am for you? I can’t get enough of you.”
Rook’s words were rough, almost a demand, but the look in his eyes was so desperate that Pippa felt cream coat her inner folds. She could not deny him. She wanted him, had always wanted him.
He entered her in one movement. His length filled her so completely as he thrust into her again and again. His body surrounded her, his hands on either side of her, gripping the side of the spa to give him support as he took her, ramming himself into her over and over. She clenched, pushing back on him, feeling his balls slap against her. It was lustful. Powerful. Primitive. It did not take long before another tidal wave of pleasure began to build, an uncontrollable peak her body careened helplessly towards. She did not want it to stop.
Crying out—“More!” and “Harder!”—Pippa was finding it difficult to hold her body up under the onslaught of his passion. She clung to the side of the spa as her breasts bounced over the edge, the sensitive undersides of her bosom dropping onto the coldness of the bath’s tiles, the shock of that chilly sensation in complete contrast to the rest of her body’s fierce heat, causing her nipples to tighten even more. Sensations surrounded her, owning her.
Finally, as Pippa forced her body down and Rook thrust his up, her orgasm exploded. It felt as if the Sydney Harbour’s New Year’s fireworks display had been released inside her head. Pippa shuddered and screamed Rook’s name as she trembled. Tremors of pure pleasure arced and raced throughout every nerve ending of her sated being, immersing her in a sensation so sweet, so delicious that she wanted to prolong the sensation—maybe forever.
Rook tugged her back down onto him, immersed them back into the warmth of the water. The bubble of the jets, as they came to life once again, massaged her limp body. Heaven could only wish to be this wonderful.
It’s such a cliché — country boy moves to the big city to follow his dreams, leaving his girl and everything he loves behind – but that’s exactly what Gareth Andrews has done. Playing rugby league is Gareth’s dream and he’s signed with one of the best teams in the competition – The Sydney Jets. Of course that has meant a move to the big city and leaving Emily Mackenzie and everything he loves behind. Not that Gareth hasn’t begged her to join him in the city he has, on bended knee — but Emily needs to stay in Gunnedah and help her father on the family farm until her brother’s stint in the armed forces is over. But Gareth knew it’s more than that. Emily is hiding away, embarrassed by the scars that mar her body in a constant reminder of the bushfire that nearly took her life.
Can love give Emily the courage to face strangers again when her father is badly injured and Gareth shows up at the hospital to support her? Or will she let her fear and shame get the better of her and break her one true love’s heart for a second time?
Now, having achieved his goal of getting Emily away from the hospital for a few hours, Gareth had the tormented pleasure of imagining Emily in his shower. Naked in his shower. He could visualise the water sluicing down her nude body, and he had the rock-hard boner to attest to his vivid imagination.
Fuck, man, get it under wraps. The last thing Emily wants or needs, is you trying to get in her pants, Gareth scolded his lust-filled mind. Not that she’s wearing any at the moment, his ever helpful mind added, making him groan even more as that train of thought rampantly took hold.
He was trapped, unable to move, standing outside his own bathroom door. He could hear the sound of the water running, but could not for the life of him take a step away, although he was terrified that at any moment, Emily would open the door and see him standing there stupidly, sporting a boner hard enough to hammer nails into wood.
“Yeah, that would be awesome. She’d appreciate it, I’m sure,” he murmured, his feet still refusing to move. Then he heard it—soft sobs coming from behind the closed door. Emily was crying, and Gareth could not stop himself, was unable to ignore the sounds of the woman he loved in despair. He opened the door and, disregarding the fact he was fully clothed—cowboy boots and all—he stepped into the shower stall. The sight of her crumpled to the floor with her hands over her eyes as she wept was heartbreaking, and he gathered her into his arms.
“Oh, baby… Shhh… Don’t cry. Mac will be fine. He is going to be fine. The worst is over.”
Gareth held her to his chest, stroked the length of her wet hair, felt her chest, her breasts rise against him as her sobs wracked her body. Emily’s tears had more power to bring him to his knees than any opposition player’s tackle. The fact that she was naked in his arms was but a distant observation. He hated seeing her in pain, in distress. Would do anything to stop her tears. He didn’t care that he was now completely soaked, his clothes heavy with water. Consoling his Emily was Gareth’s only concern.
Then he felt her lips on the skin of his neck, their warmth as she kissed him there, and her arms as she reached around behind his head, drawing him down so his mouth was tantalising close to hers. Like a lightning bolt hitting him, awakening his body, Emily’s naked form came back to the forefront of his mind. Like a heavy hit lined up and delivered perfectly from an opposing forward, his need for her slammed into him, robbing him of any previous gallant intentions. He needed Emily, needed to feel her skin. Needed to feel himself buried deep, balls-deep, inside her.
“Love me, Gareth. I need to feel something other than the guilt that’s eating me alive. I should have done more, should have reacted quicker, found Dad sooner… Distract me. Make it go away. Make me think of only you, even if it’s just for a while… ”
“Emily, you did all you could. You probably saved your father’s life, got him help, did all the right things. Stop it. Stop trying to take the blame for everything that happens, every time life deals a blow that’s unfair. Mac’s accident is just one of those things. Working the land comes with its dangers. You know that.”
Gareth was not a saint, and he was not going to give up the opportunity of showing Emily how much he still loved her. If she wanted him to make love to her, distract her, he was going to do that…and more, until she had no doubt of his love.
He took her mouth with his as he steadied her head in his hands, drawing her body hard against his own. He turned her face gently to gain a better angle, a better connection. Their faces mashed up against each other, he devoured her, his tongue demanding as he laved every part of her mouth hungrily, eagerly. The sounds of her sighs—muffled by his mouth, but still audible—sent him into a sexual frenzy. He needed more. Needed to feel her orgasm, needed to be the one that brought his Emily fulfilment. Only him. Always him.
“More, I need more. I need you naked, to run my hands over your chest, Gareth, need to have that experience again,” she begged when she dragged her lips from his.
When Sarah, digital and social media coordinator—or ‘digi-chick’, as she’s been called—is asked to babysit the special guest at the Jets Rugby League Club’s annual Anzac Day clash, she’s hesitant. What will the returning war hero, wounded from battle, think when he lays eyes on her dyed, flaming red hair and her face full of metal piercings? More than likely, the rule-following, uniform-wearing conformist will take one look at her and double-time it away from her feral-looking behind.
But the sexual attraction that sizzles between Sarah and Dylan is evident from their first touch, and despite both having built walls around their hearts, as protection from childhood loss and pain, they are keen to take advantage of the sheet-scorching, orgasm-exploding sexual tension that is simmering between them.
Of course, falling in love was never part of the plan.
Every time Dylan made love to her, it was better than the time before. This time was no exception. Sarah could sense the change in him, the way he loved her, the passion and intent in every hard thrust of his rigid shaft. She believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dylan Mackenzie loved her, as he had said. She rode her orgasm with such happiness and completeness that she now floated in a haze of contentment, one she’d never experienced before. Could this be it? Had they just turned a corner in their relationship? Could she have found a person to believe in, one who would stay with her forever?
When Dylan rolled his body off her, stretched his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, Sarah thought he was just disposing of the used condom. She didn’t even open her eyes, expecting him to rejoin her so she could snuggle in next to his body and drift off to sleep.
Hearing the rustle of clothing, not feeling the dip of the bed as she had been expecting, made her open her eyes. Dylan had dragged on his jeans and was in the midst of pulling a jumper over his head.
“What ya doing, sexy?” she whispered drowsily. “I want to go to sleep in your arms. Come back to bed.”
Sarah waited a few moments, wondering what was taking Dylan so long, then finally, as if a light bulb had come on in her head, she became aware of the situation. It was in his eyes. Dylan was leaving.
Just waiting to say the words to her.
Sarah had failed. There was no magic corner—she hadn’t managed to break through and discover Dylan’s fear, what fuelled his anxiety. She’d had enough trouble getting him to talk about anything more meaningful than what he wanted to watch on TV or felt like for dinner, let alone the reason or events that had led him to the belief that he didn’t deserve to be happy. Meeting his mates, going to the base… None of it had meant anything.
She didn’t move, couldn’t move. She was frozen, waiting and yet despising that she had to hear the words he was so close to saying. She didn’t want to hear them, wished he wouldn’t do this to them.
To no avail.
“Sarah, I have to go. I can’t do this anymore—pretend that everything will work out. I’m a soldier. I can’t have the pressure of knowing I’m leaving someone at home next time I’m deployed. I’ve seen how much it tears others apart. I don’t want that for you. I’ve got to report back soon anyway—I’m being stationed in Darwin, awaiting further orders. That’s what today’s meeting was all about. I’m sorry. I wish it could be different…I could be different.”
Sarah felt the exact moment her heart broke. The jagged pain was so intense, the rip so profound that she placed her hands on her chest just to make sure it hadn’t torn open. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming that she could not take a breath. Perhaps she did not want to.
He was gone before she could manage to force air back into her lungs. Before she could throw herself at his feet and beg for him to give them another chance. Beg him to try to change. Tell him that she loved him, didn’t think she would survive without him. But she had no chance to do any of those things—to plead and grovel with no thought for her pride—because Dylan had gone.
The sound of her front door closing was a death knell in her ears.
His words echoed in her head, bounced around inflicting wound after wound. The ‘I can’ts’ and the ‘I won’ts’. It was all about him. His pain, his fear, his decision, yet she was left with her heart splintered, her soul destroyed. She should have known better. But I love him.
Her wail was so distraught—the sobs that wracked her body so filled with grief that she thought she would never regain control of her emotions. The despair she felt sucked all the light from the room, and Sarah was afraid it would never return.
Releasing January 2014
Cassie’s Choice – League of Love Book 7
One night has haunted Cassie for over two years. After agreeing to something she didn’t feel sure about, all for the sake of a man—or more correctly, her fear of losing him, she is still consumed with thoughts of her past.
Although a few years younger than her Riley Walters was all man, in and out of the bedroom. So much so that Cassie believed he would tire of her sexual inexperience quickly. For him she was just a bit of fun—he never said anything to her to make her doubt that assumption. The reason she put herself in such an uncomfortable situation in the first place – to keep him happy. Of course it didn’t help. Riley disappeared from her life and never had anything to do with her again. Now he’s back, part of her social circle, leaving Cassie to find a way to deal with the attraction she still feels for him even after two years of trying to convince herself otherwise.
Riley was horrified at how much rage he felt that night. Memories of a trauma from childhood quickly surfaced – He was terrified that he was becoming a monster, just like the man from his memory. Cassandra Davies filled his mind, his every thought, his obsession. Now he’s been offered a position at the Jets Rugby League Club, and an opportunity to work alongside the people he called family, which is something he’d always dreamed of—but how will he survive being around Cassie if he can’t drag her into his arms and back to his bed and never let her leave.
It was now or never. He had to make a choice. This was a chance to make things right with Cassie so that he could face his friends again. But Riley was worried that he would not be strong enough to let her leave. Once she entered his apartment would he have the fortitude to keep his hands from her? Keep from kissing those tempting lips? Running his fingers through her blonde curls or feeling the weight of her breasts in the palms of his hands again?
“No… Don’t go, Cass.” The words came, a plea, as he reached out to stop her. The moment his hand touched her arm, Riley knew he was in trouble. That small connection to her opened up a dam of emotions. The familiar tingle raced up his arm. Just barely a touch and his body was on fire. Needy. Wanting. The power of her over him was indescribable. He wanted to fall to his knees, beg her forgiveness. He would have given anything at that moment for her to touch him. But he could not be weak. He had to pull himself together. If Cassie wanted to talk then talk they would.
“You wanted to talk, let’s talk. Do you want to come in? I can make you a cuppa, I have tea. Actually, I’ve got some of your favourite—it’s still chamomile, right?”
“If you’re sure it’s no trouble, and yes it is.” The smile nearly did him in. When Cassie smiled, her face lit up a room, her eyes sparkled and a dimple appeared in her left cheek. It was adorable and sexy as all get out. He had teased her over it many times but it always turned him inside out. Tonight was no different. God he was in trouble.
Riley stepped back and as Cassie entered past him he caught a whiff of her perfume—no, not perfume, Cassie didn’t wear any, it was all her. Enticing and fresh. Reminding him of what he had lost, what he missed.
“I’ll just pop the kettle on then,” he muttered as he tried to not obsess over the fact that the woman he wanted so badly was now standing in his living room.
“Is this where you grew up? The place you shared with Caitlin?”
Riley stopped in his tracks and watched as Cassie roamed the small space that he called home. She touched the back of his sofa with her hand, and he imagined her stroking his shaft the same way. He refocused and returned to his original plan of making tea as he answered her.
“Only for a few years. We moved in with Brodie after that. It doesn’t look the same as it did back then. This furniture is new and the paintings and photos are courtesy of Caitlin. I didn’t really have much input.” For the life of him Riley didn’t know why he was spilling so much information. There was no reason for Cassie to be interested in who had decorated the place. Riley’s mouth just seemed to take on a life of its own. Pretty much just like the rest of him. His brain was saying slow down, but his mouth and dick had different ideas.
Turning his attention to filling the kettle with water and finding the tea bags, Riley tried to pull himself together.
“I like it, it’s cosy. Caitlin did a good job because the place suits you, Riley.” She spoke from directly behind him. She had entered the tiny space of the kitchen. Riley would only have to turn around and she would be within reach. The temptation of knowing that was torture. Riley, ignoring the belief that a watched pot never boils, stared at the kettle waiting for the steam to rise—tried to ignore the voice that was killing him.
He certainly could not take the chance of looking at her yet. He tried for some small talk, amazed at the length of time it took for the so-called rapid-boil kettle to heat up. “So how have you been?” It was the most ridiculous question he could have ever asked. As soon as the words had left his lips he wanted to haul them back in.
“Now that’s an interesting question… Confused, angry, sad and lonely just about sums it up. What about you, Riley? How have you been?”