Tore Up (Mississippi Smoke Series Book 1)

“Shh, sweet girl,” the sound of a husky, deep voice whispered.

The hard warmth surrounding me felt safe. I tried to burrow closer. The smell—I recognized it and inhaled deeply with a sigh of pleasure.

A soft brush of lips against my temple caused me to tremble.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” the voice assured me.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The tickling caress of a fingertip slowly moved down my cheek, my neck, then back to sweep against my bottom lip.

“Such lush lips for a sweet girl,” he said with a deep rumble in his chest. “I wonder if they taste like you smell. Fucking strawberries.”

I stretched, sliding my leg against much larger, muscular legs, wanting to slip inside them. Feel connected, locked together.

“Mmm.” His pleased hum ended with a low, soft chuckle.

Then, he lifted his leg so that I could get mine between both of his. I bent my knee and scooted my body closer so that his thighs encased mine.

Callous fingertips ran down my back.

“That’s enough, pretty girl.” His voice sounded thick. “Sleep for me.”

With a sigh from this contentment I’d not known existed, I sank into the security of finding where I was wanted and belonged. The smoke and spice swirled around me like a blanket. I could stay this way forever. In my own perfect heaven.

My eyes opened, and sunlight filled the room. I blinked, not certain where I was and slightly panicked that I’d lost something. Sitting up, I tried to figure out what was wrong. The scent I’d come to expect when I opened my eyes hit me, then did the memory of warm arms around me, being embraced, feeling gentle caresses, and hearing the lure of endearments spoken close to my ear.

Sweet girl. Pretty girl.

My face felt warm as my body ached from something it hadn’t actually had. I’d been dreaming. I’d read about pregnancy dreams, that they could be powerful and even erotic. I just hadn’t realized it would feel so real.

I reached up and touched the places the phantom finger from my dream had traced on my face and neck. That had been one hell of a dream. I looked down at my pillow. Would it come back if I went to sleep again? If so, I might just stay in this room and sleep all day.

The desire to do that was strong, but I knew I couldn’t.

The rest of yesterday, I had kept to myself. I went out to the pool to swim, thinking I was alone, but I heard a distant thudding sound that went on for a long time. Not sure what it was until Bane walked into the great room, all sweaty and shirtless with athletic shorts hanging on his waist, showing off his cut, magnificently defined chest. The lines connecting his lower abs to his obliques made places in my body start tingling that had no business reacting that way. At least not to him.

His gaze slowly scanned my body before he turned and went back the way he’d come. The thudding returned, and I realized I had been hearing the punching bag. That gym was why he’d looked like that. I wondered if the punching bag was how he had gotten the impressive V cut.

Bane hadn’t shown up again after that, and the house was quiet that evening. Than watched television with me while we ate, but I knew the others were at Gathe’s house, watching a football game, and I hadn’t wanted him to think he needed to stay with me.

My dream had to be because of my inability to stop thinking about Bane’s chest yesterday. The only positive thing that had come from it was, it’d distracted me way better than my book had.

Not wanting to think about what I had been told or what Fender Cash had said to me, I stood up and made myself busy, picking out something to wear. My situation was what it was, and nothing would change that.

I ate breakfast alone. The house was quiet, and I was starting to think everyone was gone. I made my way to the great room and found Bane sitting on the sofa, looking down at the phone in his hand. He glanced up when he heard my sandals hit the hardwood floor.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

My body instantly felt flushed at the sound of his voice. Oh no. Oh no. I could not do that. He might notice. It wasn’t like I could explain it was because of a dream I’d had.

“Yes,” I replied, afraid that I sounded breathless.

He stood up. “Mom wants to take you to the country club today,” he informed me. “What you’re wearing is fine.”

I’d put on a cream-colored linen sundress she’d bought me.

I ran my hands down the front, thinking it could probably use an iron. “Are you sure?” I asked him. “I do have another skirt and blouse she bought me that I could wear. It doesn’t have any wrinkles.”

His gaze raked over me, slower this time, and my hormonal body only turned up the warmth. Crap. I was going to be pink all over.

“You look good, Halo. That will blend in with the other people there.” His tone sounded bored.

I would blend. Just a reminder that this man would not be calling me sweet girl or pretty girl. My imagination, however, had other ideas.

“All right,” I replied.

He held out something toward me. “You should go get your purse so you have somewhere to put this.”

I stepped closer and looked down at his hand to see a shiny new iPhone. My eyes flew up to his face. “That’s not mine.”

But he knew that. He was aware I didn’t own a phone.

“Yes, it is. You need a phone. This one is yours. Take it.” The sharp demand in his tone caused my nipples to tighten.

What in the world was wrong with me? My body had decided to start acting on its own, no matter how I felt about it. I took the phone, trying not to touch him—because at this rate, who knew what body part would decide to light up?

“Um, thank you,” I replied slowly. “I don’t have anyone to call though. This looks expensive.”

“My mom wants to be able to communicate with you easily. Her number is in there. This way, you can keep her updated daily on how you’re feeling and she can plan an outing with you or whatever,” he replied.

I slid my finger over the screen, and it lit up. The wallpaper on it was the same photo in the frame by my bed. The ultrasound picture of my baby boy’s face. A smile spread across my lips, and I touched his sweet nose. A passcode screen appeared.

“Due date,” he told me.

I typed in 022225, and the phone opened. He’d not asked me about my due date, yet he knew it.

“This is going to take some figuring out. I don’t think I’ve used one this new. I know how the old models work, but this looks different.”

“I loaded the ultrasound video on it. I figured you’d rather have it with you on your phone than have to come watch it in here,” he told me. “Go get your purse.”

Giddiness bubbled in my chest. I had the ultrasound video on here.

“Thank you,” I replied, then went to hurry back to the stairs.

When I reached the third floor, I opened the phone back up and found my Contacts. Bane was the first one, followed by Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey, Cash Stables Office, Connie Stella, Grissele, and Than. Walking into my room, I was smiling, and a part of that was because Bane had put his number in my Contacts. It had to be the pregnancy messing with my head. That was all.

Picking up my purse, I wiped the smile from my mouth and headed back downstairs.