
g Add on Goodreads
First comes love, then comes marriage.
Then comes...disaster.In Livy's mind, prince charmings, happily ever afters and true love only exist in her world of books.
Jeremy believes otherwise, and he's determined to prove he can be all of that for Livy.All it takes is a little hope to embark on forever... until the unexpected turns their solid foundation into suffocating quicksand. And just like that, everything begins to crumble.
Spiraling out of control, Jeremy and Livy grow further apart with every day that passes.
But a glimpse of what once was reminds them that the fate of their future lies solely in their hands.
When life-altering love becomes earth-shattering heartache, only the past can mend it.
If it isn't too late.
Read an Excerpt
“It what?” he asks.
Inhale. Exhale.
“Before our first date I liked you because you were so easy to talk to and you never once tried to make moves on me. It was nice. But it was nice like he’s-a-great-pal kind of nice.”
“Um?” he begins.
“Let me finish, please. At the end of our first date you told me how you liked my laugh and appreciated my work ethic and it seriously threw me for a loop. And since then…”
“Since then?”Jeremy repeats.
God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I look into his eyes, unwavering. “Well it really kind of…turned me on.”
His eyebrows raise.
“I mean, I’ve never been really turned on by guys before. I thought I had but once you said those things I knew what I felt at that moment was the real thing. You were standing there telling me all those sweet things about how you were attracted to my personality, while being as non-physical as possible, and I was standing there thinking how I wanted to throttle you and rip your clothes off.”
Jeremy audibly swallows and clears his throat. Is he sweating? Wrap it up, Livy, so he can run away.
“And that’s all I’ve thought about since. You in my bed. Or the couch. Or the countertop. Don't get me wrong, I like your personality too. And your smile. And I like that you listen to me when I talk. But I love your cologne and the way your hair feels in my fingers and you are lucky that damn timer beeped before dinner because otherwise we’d be on that living room floor right now, naked and hungry.”
That should have done it. Too much information. He’s terrified. Exit stage left. Instead of doing an about face and bolting, Jeremy picks me up and sits me on the counter. He locks his gaze with mine briefly, then kisses me with the same magnitude as before. I throw my arms over his shoulders, fingers instantly in his hair. I wrap my legs around him and pull him as close as I possibly can. He smells so good. My hands explore and slide down to his biceps, reminding me how exquisite they are. I reach down and grab his ass. Holy Jesus, it’s such a nice ass. Jeremy groans, lifts me off the counter and begins walking towards the living room. He breaks our kiss momentarily and tilts his head. “This floor?”
I nod. No time for words. Back to kissing please. He gets the message and kisses me again. His lips move away from mine to my jaw line and neck as he lowers me to the floor. My whole body is tingling and my heart may just literally explode. What a mess that would be. The first guy that actually makes me feel this way and I might just die before we even do anything serious. He puts his hand under my shirt and brushes it over my stomach. “I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I saw you, but I was scared you’d kick my ass.”
I laugh.
“And when you flashed me in the back yard earlier, I thought I was going to lose it.”
“What’s a girl to do? You were questioning my femininity.” I bat my eyelashes. He kisses my neck again and moves to my collarbone. He moves his hand up, still under my shirt and runs his fingers over my bra. The sensation I have from his lips and his hands working simultaneously is overwhelming. I let out a tiny groan of my own.
“God, Livy. You are so fucking sexy.”
He said my name. He’s kissing my chest just above the neckline of my shirt. His hands are inching their way under my bra. My body is going to burst into flames. Noises are coming from my mouth that I’m not sure I’ve made before. My fingers are in his hair, writhing and begging him for more. I never want this to end.
Throwback copyright © Zeia Jameson 2015