Me (New Adult Erotic Romance) (Perfect Chaos #1)

Me

Part one in

The Perfect Chaos Series

By Marie York

COPYRIGHT

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

Published by

Marie York

Copyright May 2015

Cover Photo by
PawelSierak

Cover Design by Cover Up Designs

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Chapter 1

Two years ago

There was only one thing I wanted for my sixteenth birthday. It was nothing my parents’ money could buy me either. No. What I wanted didn’t come in a box or from a store. I was no longer a child, and tonight, for my birthday I would get Beckham Fox.

Beckham would undoubtedly be here, just as he had been every night since he and my brother became friends four years ago. In less than a month, they would both be off to college, and I needed to make my move now.

I looked in the mirror, admiring the sexy pink bra and panties I bought for this very occasion. My breasts, while not as big as I wanted them to be, looked hot pushed up against the lacy material. Bronzer accented the small swells, and gave me a pretty glow. I ran my fingers through my blonde hair, twisting the bottoms to give it a slight curl.

I stood a little taller—confidence looked good on me—before sliding into my favorite summer dress. The same one I noticed Beckham do a double take at only a few weeks ago.

Having Beckham as my boyfriend would be the ultimate dream come true. But, I was realistic. He was two and a half years older than me, on his way to college, and I was still a junior in high school. There was no way he’d want a relationship. So, I was going to give him what I knew he wanted.

Sex.

And, it wasn’t just what he wanted either. I wanted it too. My virginity was the only thing in my way. Mom had the talk with me not too long ago, telling me virginity was special. Something I needed to treasure and be careful with because I could only give it away once. Which is why I chose Beckham.

A smile settled across my face, as I thought about the moment he figured out I wanted to give him the ultimate gift on
my
birthday. He would be flattered, and stare into my soul with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his, and then he’d lay me on the bed and make love to me.

“Kennedy, dinner’s almost ready,” Mom yelled from downstairs.

I dabbed my lips with a little more gloss, air kissed my reflection and ran downstairs. I followed the delicious scent of barbeque outside to the patio.

Mom set the table while Dad finished getting the steaks onto a plate. The yard was already decorated for my party tomorrow, with pink and silver balloons along the pool gate. I couldn’t wait to tell my girlfriends about my greatest gift of all.

I scanned the yard, searching for Beckham.

“Mom, where’s Nixon and Beckham?” I asked, making sure to use my brother’s name first to make it less suspicious.

“Ran to the store to get your orange soda. Can you go inside, and get me the napkins?”

“Sure,” I said, turning around, and heading back to the house. I’d reapply my lip gloss too to make sure it was fresh when I finally saw Beckham.

Just the thought of him had me skipping through the living room. I spun around the bend into the kitchen, and slammed smack dab into his hard chest. It felt amazing, and, God, did he smell good. Aftershave and cologne that was refreshing, yet masculine. I ran my hand up his abs, and rested it against the curve of his pec.

“Beckham,” I whispered, glancing up, and locking eyes with the most gorgeous man alive. His dirty blond hair fell across his forehead, and it took all that I had not to reach up and swipe it back in place.

His fingers wrapped around my hand, and I warmed at the contact. I swallowed down the desire to lift myself on tiptoes and touch my lips to his.

He smiled, and I was happy he was holding my hand because my knees weakened at the sight.

“You need to be more careful, Kenny,” he said, calling me by the nickname he gave me, which I was seriously growing to dislike. It put me in the category as one of his boys, and I didn’t want to be grouped with them. I wanted him to see me as Kennedy, a girl he couldn’t resist. And tonight he would.

***

After dinner, I went back to my room, and waited for the perfect moment to make my move. The water turned off, so I knew Mom was done with the dishes. Pretty soon, she and Dad would be cuddled up on the couch watching their typical Friday night movie before they both passed out halfway through.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I peeked out my door, to see Nix and Beckham passing by on the way to Nix’s room just as I knew they would. I closed my door, and went over to my mirror, checking my hair and makeup.

I spritzed a little perfume on my neck, before sitting on my bed and I waited. Minutes turned to hours, and I was just about to give up, when I heard the unmistakable creak of Nix’s bedroom door. I jumped, then took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I flung my door open just as Beckham passed my room. “Beckham, thank god. There’s a spider on my wall. It’s huge. Can you kill it? Please?” I pouted my lip out, and pointed to my room.

He laughed. “Sure. Show me where this monster of a spider is.”

I stood back, and let him walk into the room first. “It’s right there in the corner,” I lied, and eased the door shut, so he couldn’t hear the click of the lock.

I turned around, pressing my back against the door, as I watched him scanning my walls.

“Where? I don’t see it.”

It was now or never. I pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The material pooled around my feet, and I took another deep breath.

“I guess it got away.”

Beckham turned at the breathy tone in my voice, and when his eyes settled on my almost naked body, they widened with shock.

His lips moved, but no words came out. He stepped back, bumping into my dresser, and knocking over a picture frame of my family and me. Noises started to come out of his mouth, but every syllable on his tongue failed to form a word.

I stepped toward him, and he pushed further into my dresser until his back was a stiff arch. “There’s only one thing I want for my birthday,” I purred, moving closer and creeping my fingers up his rock hard chest. “You.”

His hands wrapped around my fingers, but instead of the gentle touch from earlier, it was rough and rigid. “Kennedy, no. This can’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a million reasons why. But I’ll start with number one. Your brother is right there.” He pointed to the wall. “If he caught us, he would murder me.”

“He doesn’t have to know.” I leaned in, taking charge, and pressed my lips to his. They were just as soft as I imagined. I could detect the faintest taste of beer, and finally knew what he and Nixon did every night.

Beckham didn’t react. He stood there, refusing to kiss me back, so I swiped my tongue across his seam, matching his refusal with my own stubborn determination.

Beckham’s grip on my fingers loosened, and his hands grabbed my cheeks, as he plunged his tongue against mine. I had kissed boys before, but nothing compared to this sensual assault of my mouth.

A soft moan rumbled up my throat, and I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands, and pulling him closer. He dropped his grip on my face, wrapping his large hand around my tiny, bare waist, and yanking me tight against him.

It was everything I had dreamed about and more. Beckham Fox was actually kissing me back. I relished in his touch, the way our tongues moved effortlessly against each other, and how perfectly I fit pressed against his body. His arousal was evident by the hard bulge pressing into my belly.

I reached down to his belt buckle, anxious to undo it, and to get a closer look and feel of his engorged manhood when he jerked his lips from mine. “No!” he barked as he rested his forehead against mine, gasping for breath.

“Why not,” I insisted, reaching past his belt, and down to the huge bulge in his pants.

He swallowed hard, and I knew he would give in to the desire, and the unyielding attraction I knew was between us.

“Make love to me,” I whispered against his ear.

His grasp on my waist tightened, but instead of pulling me close, he pushed me away.

“No,” he said, but this time there was no question in his tone. He was stone cold serious.

He was kidding. He had to be. This felt so right; it was almost perfect. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. We can’t do this. I should never have even let it get this far.”

I looked down at my lacy pink bra and panties, and tried to keep the tears at bay. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

Softness flashed in his gorgeous hazel eyes, and hope flickered inside of me. I stood there, waiting for him to tell me how beautiful I was, but the softness vanished, and his cold resolve retuned.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re a child. Now get dressed, and never do that again,” he warned, and my heart shattered into a thousand tiny shards.

My hands instantly covered my body, and I spun around to grab my dress. I yanked it over my head, and tugged it back into place. “Get out,” I managed through the hot thick lump of embarrassment clogging my throat.

“Kenny,” he sighed.

Hearing that nickname only fueled the angry fire building inside of me. “I said get out,” I growled through my teeth, afraid if I parted my lips, I would scream. “Now!”

Beckham threw his hands in the air, and backed away from me. I grabbed the comforter off my bed and wrapped it around myself, wanting to disappear.

“I’m sorry,” he said before leaving. As soon as the door clicked shut, the disappointment and utter humiliation consumed me, and I fell to the floor sobbing.

Chapter 2

Present Day

I waved goodbye to Erica, my roommate, and headed off to campus. It was my first day attending college classes, and I was pumped. Ever since Nix left for college, home was boring and lonely. Dad was working more hours, and Mom was involved in so many charities. I felt like I lived alone in that big house.

Now, I was actually on my own, and ready to start with a fresh slate. I could do anything and be anyone I wanted because, here, nobody knew me. I hitched my bag onto my shoulder, and walked along the path that would bring me to the coffee cart. If I was going to be a new me, I needed my caffeine fix first.

I inhaled the fresh cut grass, and smiled up at the tall trees, excited to see how my new home would look come fall: bright, beautiful, and exploding with color I imagined. I couldn’t wait.

There was a line at the coffee cart, but, luckily, I still had a good twenty minutes before I had to be seated in class. I people watched while I waited. A guy nearly collided with a girl while he texted, and barely lifted an eye from his phone when she stumbled back to avoid him. A couple made out under a tree to my left, and a pang of jealousy flared in my gut.

That had been what I always wanted. Someone to spend time with in between classes, who would kiss me with wild abandon, like we were the only two people on the planet, without a thought or care about who was watching. And most of all, right now, someone who would stand in this damn line with me, making me want the wait to be longer, so I could spend more time with them.

Unfortunately, my luck in the guy department had been pretty shitty, and I was sick of looking. Besides, it was my first year of college. I didn’t need a relationship. All I wanted was a guy who could provide a good time when I craved it. Nothing more, and I had a feeling that wouldn’t be hard to find.

The girl in front of me took her coffee, and I stepped up to the cart.

“Good morning,” I greeted the guy who was wearing a yellow polo and a green apron, and the name tag pinned to the top said Jimmy. “Can I get a large coffee…”

“One sugar and skim,” Beckham’s voice floated across my ears as he finished my order.

My heart leapt out of my chest, and I swear something was pressing against my windpipe because I couldn’t breathe.

It had been six months since I had seen him last, but it was for only a brief moment, before I locked myself in my room and hid. We crossed paths a fair amount of times over the past couple of years, but the humiliation never left, and I avoided any attempt he made to speak to me like the plague. The last time I actually spoke to him was the night he rejected me.