Very Bad Things (31 page)

Sebastian sat Mila back on her feet. “This I gotta hear,” he
said, walking over to me. “Okay, lay it out for me. You’re saying I’m a lion?”
he said sarcastically, but I could tell he really wanted to hear it.

Mila gave him a hip bump. “At least you’re majestic. I’m a
freaking rabbit. A scared bunny with a nose that twitches,” she huffed.

I chuckled and cocked my head to study Sebastian. “Like a
lion, you’re dramatic, obviously, and regally handsome . . . don’t get a big
head about that one. You’re tough and ferocious and protective when someone
hurts your loved ones. But in the end, underneath all that hissing, you’re
still just a big ole pussycat at heart.”

“Here, kitty, kitty,” Mila said, poking him in the ribs.

“Huh, not bad,” he said with a teasing smile. “You might
make a good mom after all.”

I yelled and took off after him . . .

AROUND ONE IN the morning, Leo was
still talking to his guests, yet periodically sending me hot looks. I’d send
them back, my body throbbing with need.

Soon though, I headed back upstairs to get in his bed.
Before I did, I opened the shuttered window in his room and gazed out at the
stars. The sight of them gave me hope, and I thought of a quote by Van Gogh:
“I
know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of stars makes me dream.”

I didn’t know what the future held for us, but my dream was
that we’d be together forever. I did know with certainty that life is full of
bad people, broken people, sad people, betrayed people, twisted people, and
people with secrets and scars the world never sees.

Yet, it is also full of people who love each other. People
who are happy.

We all have a choice
in life, to either quit or try
again, and you can be sure I was going to try, try, try. Even though I was far
from being what I wanted to be, my path
would
lead to happiness. Yes,
life would suck and be scary sometimes, but I would keep going and searching
for those happy moments, because in that direction lies grace and love.

I didn’t want to do bad things; I wanted to be true to
myself. And being true meant I was not the bee champion, beauty queen,
piano-playing genius my parents had shaped me into. No, I was just a simple,
young girl whose love for a boy would last until the end of time.

IT WAS TWO o’clock by the time I got
the last guest out, and I was exhausted, but all I could think about was her
upstairs where she belonged. Mine. She was mine. Forever.

I tiptoed in the bedroom and remembered another time when
I’d lain beside her in a bed. I’d tried so hard to distance myself from her
then, but she’d broken through my defenses. Even at eighteen, she’d been
smarter and wiser than me.

She was naked, lying on top of the covers on her stomach.
Her red hair was spread out over my pillow, and I stroked my fingers down her
luscious wings, tracing the tips over the script. She stirred a little, and I
straightened up and took my clothes off. I pulled a condom from the side table
and rolled it on my hard cock. I got in bed and straddled her legs and leaned
down to kiss down her shoulders and back, my hands kneading her ass. I kissed
behind her knees and down her calf. I kissed the arch of her feet. I kissed her
sweet toes.

“Nora,” I murmured in between kisses and little nips. She
whimpered out my name, and my cock got harder from the invitation I heard in
her voice.

She turned, and I reached for her piercing and flicked it
with my finger. I sucked each nipple in my mouth, my eyes narrowed in on her
green ones shining like emeralds as she gazed at me.

“Tell me you love me,” I demanded as I played with her pink
nipples, rolling them between my thumb and finger.

She smirked and arched her brow at me.

I tangled my hands in her hair and tugged gently. “Say my
name, and tell me you love me,” I said in a low voice.

She touched my chest, her fingers outlining my dragon
tattoo. I let go of her hair and cradled her face, my nose touching her nose.
“Say it, and I’ll fuck you,” I growled, hearing the desperate yearning in my
voice but not caring. She was all I wanted, and I wanted her to know it.

“You’ll do that anyway,” she retorted with a gleam in her
eyes. Oh yeah, my Buttercup liked to play games.

“You asked for it,” I said, chuckling as I kissed her softly
with little pecks and no tongue. She squirmed, grabbed my hair and tried to
deepen my kisses, but I pulled away, shaking my head at her. She glared at me.

“Kiss me,” she said. “Give me an epic one.”

“As soon as you do what I want,” I murmured, pulling back to
give her a hot look.

“I love you, Leo Jamison Tate, so kiss me, pretty please,”
she said, her eyes heavy with emotion, letting me see the big love she had for
me.

My heart sang, recognizing its mate.

I kissed her deep, and her hips arched off the bed,
searching for mine. “Like that?” I asked against her mouth, my hands clutching
her to me. I never wanted to let her go.

“Yes,” she whispered, the ache evident in her voice.

My cock brush her thigh, and I groaned at the contact. She
wrapped her legs around my waist, and I leaned down to her breasts, massaging
and sucking them, my need escalating. I kissed her stomach, around to her
hipbone, and down to her thighs, inhaling her scent. I groaned and put a finger
in her, the wetness cranking me higher. I stroked her relentlessly, focusing on
her sweet spot, on her pleasure.

“I’m the only one for you, just me. You’re my bad girl. No
one else’s,” I told her possessively as her body strained for mine.

She closed her eyes and turned her head into the pillow, but
I grasped her chin. “Don’t ever look away,” I said softly. “Lock your eyes on
mine, Nora. It means everything to me. Let me see you fall apart.”

I took her hands and intertwined our fingers. Finally, I
thrust deep into her, leaning my head back and crying out at the contact. She
moaned as I set a slow pace, thrusting steadily into her heat.

“More,” she cried, and I angled myself closer to her and
pumped faster, our skin slapping together, our hands clutching each other, like
we’d die without the other. Sweat dripped from me as I took her, my eyes never
losing hers. My cock pulsed with the need to come, but I held out, working her
higher and higher. She met me thrust for thrust, arching her hips and spreading
her legs wide as I worked. I hissed and tossed my head at the sight she made,
her face full of love and wonder.

“I’m on the edge,” she said, gasping as I slid in and out.

“Wanna come?”

She nodded, and I disentangled one of our hands and thumbed
her nub, circling her slowly, making her wild.

Her body tensed up, and it hit her hard.

“Fuck,” I muttered out, watching as she came apart right in
front me, going stiff and arching her back, her cries like sweet music to my
ears. My love for her slammed into me, sending me over as I came too, yelling
her name.

Nothing
compared to this.

I leaned down to kiss her lips tenderly and got choked up,
thinking of how lucky I was, how much I loved her.

I pressed my forehead to hers. “I can’t tell you how happy I
am that I’m going to wake up in the morning, and you’ll be here, in my arms.” I
swallowed. “I love you so much, Buttercup, it hurts.”

She cupped my face, her eyes eating me up. “I’m happy, too.”
She sighed. “Is it always like this? Like I just went to heaven?”

Smiling, I lay back and pulled her against me. “Never.
That’s what happens when soulmates make love.”

I watched her until she drifted off to sleep, amazed she
loved me after all the shit I’d put her through. I promised myself that no
matter what happened in the future, no matter the rough patches we might come
across, I’d never give up on us.

Fate had known all along we were soulmates. Now, I did, too.

COMING
WINTER 2014

Briarcrest
Academy, Book Two

For
more information about whom and what the next book is about,

please
visit my social media sites:

Facebook

Goodreads

ILSA MADDEN-MILLS WROTE her first
work at the age of twelve when she penned a little ditty about a handsome
prince who had no sense. Since then, she’s written plays, poems, and short
stories.
Very Bad Things
is her first full-length novel and part of a
new series called
Briarcrest Academy.

She graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in English
from an esteemed university in the South where she now resides. She spends her
days with two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. When she’s
not typing away at a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke,
jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.

THERE ARE SO many fantastic people
in the indie world that made this journey possible. Please know that my
gratitude in no way lessens as the list continues.

I’ve always written, whether it was for work or fun. When I
was young, I entered every short story and poetry contest I came across; when I
was in college, I wrote for the university paper; when I taught English, I
wrote a play along with a wonderful group of drama students. I got serious
about the craft five years ago when I submitted a 100k paranormal romance
manuscript to publishing houses and agents, only to have it rejected time and
time again. Beaten down by the difficulty of breaking into traditional
publishing, I nearly gave up, but thankfully, my husband wouldn’t let me. As my
biggest supporter and motivator, he deserves the most thanks for making
Very
Bad Things
possible. I love him beyond measure.

For my author friend Lisa N. Paul (Lisa Spivak-Paul)—she
kept me laughing at myself through our daily phone conversations and emails. I
can’t imagine how
Very Bad Things
would have turned out if she hadn’t
run her eagle eyes over it, blurb included! I adore her, and she is my
touchstone in the indie world. I can’t wait to see you, Lisa! I’ll be more than
just a picture on a stick!

For my author friend Jennifer La Rocca—as my writing partner
and sweet friend, she was always there to let me vent. Our sprints together
have kept me focused on writing. I can’t wait to see you in Atlanta!

For Lina Bertuzzi and Tabatha VanHorn—two awesome beta
readers who listened to me talk about my characters like they were real people.
I couldn’t have done this without Lina’s insights into Leo and Nora’s
character. And Tabatha, you were my sounding board when I needed advice and
guacamole. What else did I need? Kisses and love to you both!

For all the bloggers who were on my street team and took a
chance on me—I bow down to you and all the time and hard work you do to get the
word out about good books. Stephanie Locke of Rude Girl Blog; Sandy Roman
Borrero, Lesley Hoffman, Jennifer Noe of The Book Blog; Maria Barquero of
Maria’s Book Blog; Kim Harris of Crazies R US Book Blog; Diana Surgent of
Confessions of a Book Heaux; Liz Murach of Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews; Kimberly
Kimball of Two Crazy Girls With a Passion for Books; Ann Moore and Carrie
Richardson-Horton of My Fictional Boyfriend and Book Whore Page; Stephanie
DeLamater Phillips of Stephanie’s Book Reports (who also was my fantastic blog
tour organizer); Jennifer Wolfel and Toski Covey of Wolfel’s World of Books;
Krista Loya of Breathe in Books; Stacy Nickelson of It Started with Book Blog;
Jess Danowski of Inside the Pages of a Book; and many other great blogs who
participated in my release event and blog tour. I couldn’t have done it without
any of you!

For all the people who sacrificed time to make my cover one
of a kind—Toski Covey of Toski Covey Photography, a sweet girl I stumbled
across when I admired her work on another novel. She took my ideas and ran with
it, making my vision a reality. She blew my mind with her energy and
willingness to pay it forward to someone she had never met. She took a chance
on me, and I’ll never forget it; Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear who designed my
incredible graphics and always answered my one million and one emails; and
Mariah Jane, the gorgeous redhead who graces the cover of
Very Bad Things
.
You all rock!

For Kristin Anders of The Romantic Editor—my awesome editor
with whom I automatically clicked with. (I know you’re editing this as you read
it!) I adore you and can’t wait to work with you again. You loved Nora as much
as I did and that meant everything.

For Stephanie DeLamater Phillips of Stephanie’s Book
Reports—you and Crystal’s Many Reviews took my blog tour and buzz event and
made it fabulous. Thank you so much for being available to chat with me at the
drop of a hat. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you!

For Jessica Carter—the best pimpette ever. She organized my
street team and kept us on our toes for Teaser Monday. I love this bad-ass girl
with all my heart.

For Julie Titus of JT Formatting—one of the best formatters
out there! I love what you did for me and Nora. Thank you for being patient and
walking me through the steps. I’ll be using you again!

For my Briarcrest Academy Chicks—as my Street Team, you
picked me up when I got knocked down, and you made me laugh when I needed it
the most. And for the all the serious pimpettes out there, I can’t thank you
enough for the time and energy you put into getting the word out: Jessica
Carter, Lina Bertuzzi, Jessica Bowman, Jessica Ramirez, Joni Payne, Helena’s
Book Obsession, Carrie Richardson-Horton, Kimberly Kimball, Ann McBride,
Stephanie DeLamater Phillips, Sandy Roman Borrero, Author Lisa N. Paul (Lisa
Spivak-Paul), Jess Danowski, Stacy Nickelson, Author DL Roan, Author Kaylee
Ryan, Jenn Diaz, Author Jennifer La Rocca, Kristine Radgman, Wendy Bree Rex,
Author DL Roan, Author L. Chapman, Author Missy Johnson, Sue Stewart, and Lisa
Rutledge. Lisa, you may be last, but you are definitely
not
least!
Thanks for being my stalker and all the Leo pics! I can’t wait to see you at
the next book signing.

For all the awesome people who worked to get my name out
there–Kellie Montgomery, Bobbie Jo Malone Kirby, Nicole Blanchard, Cami
Hesnault, Kerri Mclaughlin, Lydia Quintana of HEA Book Shelf, and Tabitha Coots
of Tabby's Tantalizing Reviews.

If I’ve left anyone out, please forgive me. I promise to
make it up in Book 2!

I love you all, girlies!