Love Won (Winning at Love book 1) Read online

  Feeling a surge of excitement pulsing through my body at these thoughts, I slowly bring them up to my face and rub my cheek against the material, flushing at the way they feel against my now-ignited skin. Closing my eyes, I imagine myself on my knees before him, his hard length pulsing against my cheek through the fabric, teasing and testing us both as he waits for me to make my move. I feel my nipples tighten against his T-shirt, and I’m a goner. Balling the material up with both hands, I position the underwear under my nose and take a long deep sniff, committing the scent of the detergent he uses to memory.

  Realizing what I’ve just done, I open my eyes. “Jesus Christ. I just sniffed his underwear. I’m a panty sniffer! I’m a Facebook-Creeping-Boxer-Sniffing-Psycho,” I scold myself, quickly flinging Coy’s briefs towards my hamper in shame. I watch them land with a soft flumppf on the floor beside it. Groaning in frustration, I slip under my covers and reach over to turn off my bedside lamp. It’s time to shut this shit down before I do something crazy…like put them on.

  May 3, 2007

  Dear May,

  Hello, my eternal keeper of secrets. Have I got a juicy bit of information for you today. I saw Coy in his underwear! They were white, and his cute little bum was practically in my face when I went to put a load of laundry in this afternoon. Apparently, he didn’t realize anyone was home. He’d just come back from soccer practice and had just had a shower. Too bad I couldn’t walk in on that, eh? Anyway, he was crouching down, sorting his clothes when I came storming in, and wow!!! Coy’s butt; it’s a tight butt!!! Kami tried so hard to get me to steal a pair of his undies, trying to convince me they would be my key to popularity. I just laughed and told her this was real life, not the movie “Sixteen Candles”, and there was no way that I was going to charge people to see his underpants in the high school bathroom, even if I did have a pair. Which, of course, I didn’t and never would…but still. If I did, I would totally keep them just for me.

  TTFN,

  East

  *

  “Holy shit,” I pant, bolting up in bed, my breathing erratic, warmth blooming in my belly and unfurling between my legs in reaction to the dream I’ve just had. One starring Coy, of course. He was hovering over me in my bed, his lust-filled eyes melding with mine as he pushed his massive cock inside me for the first time, our bodies fusing together as he slid inside me over and over again.

  “Jesus,” I shiver, trying to regulate my heightened senses as the last of the tingles dances along my skin, and the vivid images from the dream start to fade now that I’m awake.

  Letting out a steadying breath, I turn over to glance at the alarm clock. I’m relieved to see that it’s just past midnight, but maybe not so relieved to know it was all only a dream.

  “God, I’m pathetic. I’m a walking contradiction of come here and go away,” I snap, fluffing my pillows before resting my head down again.

  Lying in the silence of my dark room with the soft glow of the moonlight sneaking in through the slats of my blinds, my mind races with thoughts of how Coy would feel as he took me. As the images infiltrate my mind, I feel a familiar flush creeping over my skin again, my body feeling mildly hotter. I run my hands down between my legs, feeling how soft the skin is there. A few strokes of the hand are all it would take to send me off into oblivion. I feel myself start to throb again, as I rest my hand where I need the most attention, my breathing fluctuating as I think years back to the night of the most memorable Labour Day party of them all. I was almost nineteen, and it was the night I’d never forget. It was the night of The Out-of-Body Chips Encounter.

  Drumming my fingers nimbly over my nipples, I close my eyes and give in to the memory of the night where the lines of what Coy and I had between us had gotten blurred. A night we’d never spoken of since, maybe because we’d both been drinking, or the fact that we knew it had been too close a call? Or maybe because he’d simply forgotten and I was too much of a total chickenshit to broach the subject, wanting to save face in case he flipped out and told me that what happened in my bedroom and then later in the basement had all been just a drunken mistake? I hadn’t ever been able to find the courage to bring it up, so we never had.

  Whatever the case, it was the night I’d given my soul to the boy with the lopsided grin, who had turned into the man who ended up ruining me for all others.

  23

  Goodbye, Mosquito Bites, It’s Been a Slice

  Summer 2009

  “You ready for tonight?” Kami asks. She tosses her mesh cover-up over her skimpy, black bikini-clad body and takes a sip of one of the stolen beers we’ve managed to smuggle upstairs. It’s the annual Labour Day party, and everyone is expected to be here, including Coy.

  “Yeah, I’m a little nervous, though,” I admit, having turned so she can tie up the top to my latest bikini: a sexy hot pink suit that fits me perfectly, accentuating my now-pronounced curves and chest. My mom was definitely right; like her, I’d been a late bloomer.

  Hence the reason for my nerves. It would seem I’m not the only one who’s taken note of the changes to Eastlyn Hatfield. I’ve been getting more and more attention from the opposite sex lately, even from McCoy. Just yesterday, while we were all eating ice cream down at Dairy Queen after the guys had won their soccer game, I could’ve sworn I’d heard him groan a little each time I’d taken a lick of my soft-serve, but I can’t be sure. That’s the thing—I’m never sure where that boy is concerned.

  “Jesus, are you sure this is the whole suit?” Kami jokes, as I pull the barely-there cups up and over my (finally!) full breasts.

  “Shut up, it’s not that bad! Your suit is just as tiny.” I take a swig from the bottle she’s just passed me.

  “Yeah, but my boobs aren’t as big. And you’re right, but you’re the one with the brother who’s gonna lose his shit over his friends ogling you,” she says, giving me a once-over.

  “Ha. Keaton will be so busy losing his shit over my scantily clad bestie torturing him that he won’t have time to give me and his buddies a second thought.”

  “Whatever. You know it’s not like that,” she says, and rolls her eyes.

  “Sure it isn’t,” I smile back, knowing she’s full of shit.

  “Is tonight the night?” she asks, dismissing me and ending the argument. “Are you finally going to tell McCoy how you feel? ’Cause I think you’re definitely gonna have his attention tonight,” she says, looking me up and down again with a blatant smirk on her face.

  “My eyes are up here, Kami,” I joke. “Let’s see how the night goes, all right? There are going to be a ton of people here, including my parents, and yours. I doubt I’ll get any alone time with him at all.”

  “Time will tell. You ready to head down?”

  “Yeah, just need to fix my hair,” I say, grabbing my brush, still standing in front of the full-length mirror.

  “All right. See you down there, then.”

  “I’ll be there in five or so,” I say, as she nods and exits my room, leaving the door slightly ajar. My poor brother has no idea what’s coming, I think, laughing to myself as I adjust my straps and check out my ass in the mirror.

  Reaching for the sunscreen, I open the lid and begin to apply the lotion onto my legs, arms, chest and face. I’m taking one last look at myself in the mirror, adjusting my messy bun and cups one last time, when my bedroom door flies open. Lifting my eyes, expecting to see Kami, my eyes crash into Coy’s. His eyes immediately hone in on where my hand is stalled, mid-tug, on the fabric covering my breast. Following his gaze, we watch together as my nipples begin to peak from his blatant regard. Goosebumps break out across my arms. The weight of his stare is unwavering and lust-filled, and I love it. Looking back at him, I run my eyes along his form, over his taut and rigid muscles, and it has me licking my lips. I can see that I’m not the only one affected here; I watch with rapt attention as Coy adjusts the front of his shorts. A soft moan escapes my lips as the bikini material suddenly feels too restrictive, and need pools between
my legs. I want to speak, I need to say something, but instead I drop my arms to my sides and allow him to drink me in. And holy hell, does he ever. After lingering on my pert nipples, Coy’s eyes begin a leisurely trailing down the rest of my body, and it’s the most thrilling invisible touch I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling.

  “I’m the worst best friend in the history of best friends right now, Eastlyn,” McCoy says, darting his eyes back up to mine. “Keaton would kill me, but I can’t look away from you,” he grits, and I can only nod, as the feeling is absolutely mutual.

  “What are you doing up here?” I croak, finding my voice, even if it does sound shaky.

  “I wanted to see what was taking you so long. Kami has Keaton losing his shit in that scrap of spandex she keeps trying to tell him is her bathing suit,” he says, shaking his head, again running those seriously blue eyes along my body. “I told him I’d come make sure you were all right. He wanted me to make sure that your bathing suit didn’t match Kam’s. I told him he was a dick, and that you could wear whatever you want, but now, seeing you…” He trails off, regarding me with a perplexed yet sexy look on his face. “So, I volunteered to check on you, see if you were coming down.” Coy adds sheepishly, his eyes darkening, his eyes not wavering from me. And I huff, knowing my brother can be such a dick.

  “He’s too much. I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need fashion advice, or anyone to check up on me. I’ll be out when I’m ready.” I hold his gaze, my defences up, yet Coy ignores it, and keeps talking as if I’m not standing here pissed off.

  “He thanked me, anyway, for coming up; Keaton said he couldn’t deal with the rest of the guys looking at both of you like that. Funny thing, though, now that I see you…” his eyes intense, his face stoic, “…I might agree. Not sure I can handle it,” he says, taking a step closer towards me.

  “Jesus, not you, too. Fine. I’ll try to keep my cover-up on when I’m not in the pool,” I say, my cheeks heating in anger, “not that it’s really any of your concern.”

  Suddenly, I feel exposed, yet damn proud of myself under his watchful eye. Gone are any regrets or ideas that my plan of always buying a new bathing suit for every pool party in hopes of getting his attention was stupid, because it’s worked. He seems a little pissed. And I feel some vindication, finally reaping the benefits of my ridiculous plan.

  “I sure as shit don’t think Keaton should be thanking me right now—at all.” He pauses, his eyes looking wild. “You’re stunning, East. And I’m such an asshole, thinking what I’m thinking.” He rubs the back of his neck, a look of uncertainty and guilt crossing his face, his eyes meeting mine again. “The things I want to do to you,” he adds, shaking his head as if he can’t believe he’s just admitted it aloud. His voice is deep, the words escaping on a low growl, and I feel it everywhere; the impact of his admission affects me everywhere.

  “Coy,” I whisper, barely audibly, swaying a bit, grabbing the top of my dresser for support. My legs are ready to give way from shock at the realization that McCoy Graves is standing in my room—and is just as conflicted about me as I am about him.

  “I gotta go. I need another beer, I—I’ll see you down there,” he says, sounding a bit frantic. His eyes trace down from my own, landing on my chest one last time, before he turns back towards my door, shaking his head as he retreats from my room before stopping. “And do cover up, Eastlyn. I don’t think either of us is ready for what might happen if you don’t.”

  I’m speechless, watching him walk away and listening to the stairs creak under his feet, too stunned for a witty rebuttal or a snarky comment. Let’s just say I might have accidentally forgotten exactly where I’d put my cover-up as I made my way to the backyard to join the party in my bikini a few minutes later.

  24

  The Out-of-Body Chip Encounter

  Groaning in frustration as I think back to that afternoon, my mind’s trying in vain to slip, wanting so badly to revisit what happened the night of that same Labour Day party. Not only am I frustrated, but I’m feeling even more wanton and needy as I try to prevent those memories from taking over.

  It’s useless.

  Giving in, I nervously hop out of bed, my next steps clear, knowing I’ll take what I’m about to do to the grave. Tiptoeing over to my hamper, I reach down and swipe Coy’s briefs from off the floor. The need to be close to him right now is overriding any sense of the responsible, sound-minded, and independent woman I am. I strip off my own panties, and slip the smooth fabric of his boxers up over my thighs, feeling my desire start to pool, thinking about how the material where his cock has been is now resting against my mound. I’m clearly on an express train straight out of Coy City, barely bypassing Facebook-Creeping-Boxers-Sniffing Psychotown and arriving in a cloud of steam at Masturbating-in-Stolen-Briefsville station, and at this point, I couldn’t give a shit. My body is wound tight, the release I crave imminent, almost at a state of emergency. Especially since I have to work with that man tomorrow, I’m going to need to come tonight. The memory of Coy’s words all those years ago—and what passed between us later that same night—is wreaking havoc, fuelling my impending orgasm.

  Once back in bed, I open my bedside table drawer and begin feeling my way around until the familiar smooth silicon is within my grasp. Hello, old friend!

  Closing my eyes, I prepare to revisit The Out-of-Body Chips Encounter, allowing my We-Vibe Rave to be the understudy in tonight’s flashback performance. Shifting my body further down under the covers, images, recollections, and all-too-familiar sensations from that night start to form like tiny pixels, bringing images of Coy and me to life. My body remembers like it was yesterday, and wetness puddles between my legs, soaking into his boxers. My breathing accelerates and I give in. I need the release too much not to…

  After having drunk a few too many of my brother’s beers (ones Kam and I had been stealing throughout the afternoon and well into the evening) I was feeling pretty freaking happy. The party was in full swing. My parents and their friends were a little tipsy, too, as they started to say goodbye to most of the older guests. The party would continue for the younger crowd, I had no doubt. Thankfully, my mom and dad would be none the wiser that I might have indulged in a few more than the standard two drinks I was permitted to have. I knew if Keaton caught me, he’d be pissed, even though he and Coy had done the same thing when they were underage (talk about double standards).

  But, lucky for me, Keaton hadn’t noticed. The only thing my brother had seemed to be aware of today was Kami. I giggled as I made my way up the back deck to the sliding glass doors, remembering Keat’s furrowed brow and the dirty looks and death glares he’d been giving his friends all afternoon whenever he caught any of them looking her way. He was practically chasing her around the yard, all but begging her to put her cover-up back on.

  Giggling again, I stumble into the house, making my way through the kitchen to the door which led to the basement stairs, where my mission was clear…I was hoping to find some more potato chips. I had the biggest craving. Making my way down the hall to the fruit cellar where my mom stocked an indecent amount of food and other supplies, I was in the middle of praying to the gods of Lay’s that my mom had one more bag of plain chips tucked away when I heard it. Its effect was immediate, stopping me in my tracks. It was a loud, deep, and undeniably sexy-ass groan, and it was coming from the rec room.

  Coy’s pseudo-bedroom.

  My heart began to pound inside my chest, my legs going a bit unsteady and my nerves taking on a mix of fear and excitement. Knowing McCoy was down here, a sliver of uneasiness rushed through me as I realized he might not be down here alone. Which had me contemplating (in the words of The Clash): should I stay, or should I go? Bolting back upstairs and pretending I hadn’t heard anything would have been the safer option, but after Coy’s and my encounter in my room earlier, I needed to know. I needed to see and hear what McCoy Graves was up to. My decision to stay was made in perfect time. Another low moan ricocheted off the
hallway walls, landing right between my legs.

  “Fuck it…” I inched closer to the room’s threshold, my goal. To see but not to be seen…

  Shifting closer, I heard him moan again, followed by a deep command that, again, hit me right in my battleship.

  “That’s right, babe. I want you to touch yourself for me.”

  Oh God. I stood frozen. He had a girl with him.

  “Yeah, I wish you could have stayed, too. Would have liked to watch you come in person.” When he said that, I felt myself relax a bit. I’d been wrong. He was alone. Holy shit, he’s phone sexing!

  Willing myself to ignore him, I tried to convince myself to walk away, to carry on with my chip mission, but I couldn’t. A bigger part of me needed to hear how this was going to play out…and a desperate part of me wanted to pretend I was the one he was talking to. Positioning myself just inside the entrance to the rec room so I was leaning my back up against the wall, I stood stock-still and allowed my body to give in to Coy’s commands, even if they weren’t meant for me.

  “If you were here, my mouth would be on your sweet pussy. You’d be riding my fingers, while I sucked on that tight little clit,” he rasped, and I swear I barely stifled my own moan as my stomach dipped. I pretended his words were indeed meant for me as I slipped my hand down the front of my bikini bottoms and awaited further instructions…

  An “mmm” escapes my lips as I arch my back off my bed, the material of Coy’s briefs damp from where I’ve been teasing myself over and over as the memories of that night come flooding back. Using the palm of my hand, I continue to rub and grind down on my pussy. I’m getting wetter and wetter. No longer able to tease myself, I turn to my old friend, switch it on, and feel a wave of excitement rush through me as the familiar low hum fills my room: my We-Vibe Rave coming to life in my hand. Spreading my legs, I pull the black cotton away from my waist, giving me just enough room to slip my friend down inside the front. Once in position, I gently place the vibrator’s smooth head along my pussy lips, and start to move it directly over my clit. “Shit, yes. Hello, friend, how I’ve missed you…” I murmur. The ministrations feel so, so good. I’m slick, and beyond ready. Turning it up another notch, I let out a haughty breath and move my hand over the vibrator causing it to move up and down at an agonizingly slow pace, teasing myself as the silicone tip glides and dips ever so slowly in between my sensitive flesh.