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- L. M. Carr
Giving Up for You
Giving Up for You Read online
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright© 2015 by L.M.Carr. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Interior Design by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs
Dedication
To my children, dream big. Do what you love, love what you do.
Acknowledgments
To Karrie Puskas, the woman I met on Facebook who quickly became my friend and “assistant.” Thank you for working tirelessly to get my books out there. I can’t thank you enough for your passion and hard work.
To Danielle Bisaillon, my friend for so many years, thank you for swooping in to save the day with your eagle eye!
To the blogs who promoted my books and encouraged readers to “one-click.” You have my thanks!
To the many authors who’ve become friends, thank you for answering my questions along the way. Thank you for welcoming me into this wonderful world of writing.
Where there is love there is life.
-Mahatma Gandhi
FOOD. AIR. SHELTER. Those are three things needed for a human being to survive, not thrive . . . just survive. What can you do when the air needed to breathe is sucked out of you and is no more? How can you live? Maybe you can’t. Perhaps you find an alternative. Death is an alternative. I might as well be dead; I have nothing to live for. Except I do because some things are worth saving. Some things are worth fighting for. Some things are worth the sacrifice.
“NO, PLEASE. PLEASE, don’t do this,” a desperate whimper turns into a full blown wail as I jerk awake into an upright position causing the remote control to fall to the floor with a crash, sending the batteries rolling in all directions. I blink rapidly to rouse myself. The room is dark. I am alone in Adam’s bed with sweat beading across my forehead and hot tears creeping down my face. I force myself to control the panic raging throughout my shaking body, sending my heart into erratic beats. I wipe my brow with the cuff of my sleeve and then swipe it across my nose before pulling my knees into my chest, rocking myself reassuringly with bated breath, thankful that it was a just a dream. It was just a dream.
“Mia!” The bedroom door flies open and Adam stands there with a look of sheer panic across his handsome face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” The sobs that were nearly controlled start all over and as hard as I try, I can’t stop. In an instant, his strong arms wrap around me, cocooning me, making me feel safe and secure. Making me feel loved. God, I love this man with every fiber of my being.
“Shhh . . . it’s okay. You’re okay, babe.” I’m pulled onto his lap and he showers my damp forehead with kisses and calming words. “What happened?”
Small hiccups shake my body as I inhale and exhale, calming down. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck and take a deep breath, memorizing his scent while my fingers find themselves around the nape of his neck, grasping at his dark wavy hair and hold on for dear life. He is my lifeline. I can’t ever lose him or his children.
“Adam,” I breathe raggedly, “please don’t ever leave me.”
I have his full attention when he pulls back and looks down at me. “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.” His full lips meet mine. “I love you.”
“My God. It was awful.” I start to tell him about my dream which quickly morphed into a nightmare in which Chris DeGennaro took center stage. “We . . . we were getting married.” I look at him sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed remembering Maddie’s question at breakfast about whether or not we were going to get married. I never did hear what his response was. “My father walked me down a little wooded path, deep through a thick forest and I was so happy. Completely overjoyed. There were so many people. Everybody we knew was there. The kids, Shelby, Mike, Pete, my mom, Josh, Araceli, Nate and Katherine. Their faces were beaming with smiles as I walked past them. Then there were all these other faceless people that I didn’t know. All I can remember is their faces were pulled into frowns like a tragedy mask. It was weird.” I shake my head and let out a little disbelieving chuckle when I tell him that even Gina was there. How she managed to find her way into my dream is beyond me. “I kept thinking that I didn’t care who was there. I just couldn’t wait to get to you. I saw you standing, looking so handsome in a black tuxedo, smiling and waiting patiently for me. It seemed to take forever to get to you.” I scrub my hands over my face and run my fingers through my wayward hair. “When I finally reached you, my father, looking so stunning in his tux, lifted my veil and kissed my cheek, telling me that I will always be his little girl. His eyes were red and brimming with absolute love and pride. I told him how much I loved him and that I missed him so much. He said he knew and that they missed me, too. Him and Lily.”
“Go on,” Adam encouraged. “What happened then? Sounds like a pretty good dream to me so far.” My eyes cast upward to meet his and I find a huge grin across his face.
“I watched my father take my hand and place it in yours, but when I looked up, it wasn’t you—it was Chris DeGennaro. His face was contorted and filled with pure anger as he looked at me. I swear to God, when his face transformed into a conniving smile, he looked like the devil himself.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “He said that he was there to take you away from me. That I didn’t deserve to be happy because I killed my baby and her father.” My words choke out. “I screamed and begged for you to stay, but you wouldn’t. I stood there and watched helplessly as you led Maddie and Luke away from me.”
Adam holds me close and squeezes me to his chest, the warmth and love radiating through his shirt. “Baby, you have me. You have the kids. You’ll always have us.”
“I know, but it just felt so real.”
I hear the distant sound of Maddie and Luke coming upstairs, calling their father’s name, no doubt wondering where he is. I don’t want either one of them to see me crying so I quickly kiss his neck before jumping up and rushing into the bathroom to wash my face. I look horrible. I feel horrible. My cheeks are blotchy and red, my eyes glassy and swollen. Facing the kids without them asking a million questions will be quite an accomplishment.
Adam knocks lightly on the door. “Mia, do you want me to come in?” I’m sure if I were to open the door, I’d find his forehead against it with worry etched across his face.
Looking from the mirror to the door and back to the mirror, I don’t want him to see me like this in the fluorescent light of the vanity. I
’m a mess and he’s seen me cry enough over the last few weeks. “I’m fine. I just need a minute. Go on down with the kids. I’ll be there in a few. I promise.”
I’m met with silence. Then I hear his quiet words, “Okay. Come down when you’re ready.”
God, I know I’m overreacting, but that nightmare felt so real. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a different nightmare. In the reoccurring, all too familiar nightmare, the one that has plagued me for years, the manufacturing plant explodes, erupting into a huge, flaming orange mushroom sending smoke, fire and plume up into the air against the dark night sky seconds after my father vanishes beyond the threshold of the heavy steel door. That image will always haunt me.
I remind myself that Adam is here. The kids are here and we are safe. I guess I didn’t realize how much stress I’ve been under with Gina showing up all around the neighborhood. Trying to convince my nerves to calm down now that I know the truth about Nora and the nature of her relationship with Adam is easier said than done. I think I’ll always be a little insecure about the women of Adam’s past. It wasn’t all that long ago, but I know he’s a different man now. Having witnessed the interaction between Chris and Adam has me on edge. I’ve never seen Adam become so volatile at a moment’s notice. Angry? Yes. Annoyed? Yes. Violent? No. Definitely not.
The warm washcloth scrubs across my face, wiping off the smeared mascara, and I will myself to get it together. One last splash of water, I tug my hair up into a sloppy bun and I’m ready to go.
When I step back into his bedroom, part of me wants to curl up and pull his pillow into me. The other part of me wants to take the stairs two at a time and rush into his arms. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I readjust my socks and notice my phone sitting on the bedside table and see I have a missed call from my mom. I listen to the voicemail. She sounds off again. Shaking my head, I wonder what she’s up to now. My poor mom. I glance at the alarm clock and realize it’s nearly five o’clock; I’ve slept almost all afternoon. I don’t remember coming to bed; the last thing I remember was cuddling with Maddie on the couch after we decorated the tree. The image of the two additional Christmas stockings hanging by the fireplace brings a smile to my face. Adam really is trying to make us a family with that small gesture. I love him even more for that.
JUST AS I step onto the landing of the first floor, I take in the sight before me. The great room is gorgeous, the tall tree standing prominently in the corner, decorated beautifully with silver and gold handmade ornaments hanging from several branches. Brady is snoring peacefully on the plush rug in front of the dwindling fire. My senses are on overload as the smell of stuffed chicken and rosemary wafts throughout the house, but it’s the sound of hushed giggles and whispering coming from the far end of the house where Adam’s office is located that draws my attention. Curiosity begs me to find the source.
After giving Brady a quick kiss and a gentle rub on the top of his head, I go in search of Adam and the kids, walking quietly along the long hallway. More laughter invades my ears as do muffled squeals of delight. “Shhh . . . you have to be quiet. She’s awake.” I freeze midstride. I wonder what’s going on. “Hang on, let me see where she is.” Adam’s voice sends me retreating quickly and quietly. I don’t want to ruin the moment or what I think is supposed to be a surprise; he doesn’t usually allow the kids to play in his office. The low sound of my phone ringing sends me scrambling down the hallway toward the kitchen. Crap! Quickly, I slide my finger across the screen but don’t speak until I’m far away enough from the office. “It’s all clear. You guys finish up in here.” I hear Adam call out. He shuts the door and locks it.
“Hi, Mom.” I whisper into the phone as I pull out a stool from the island after warming up a dish of chicken, potatoes and green beans. My raspy voice worries her, but I reassure her that I’m fine. Conversations with my mom are always pretty much one-sided. She talks. I listen. She tells me about her plans to visit Josh for Christmas and wishes that I would go, too, so she could meet Adam and the kids, but we were just there for Thanksgiving and our plan is to stay here and celebrate the holidays together as a family.
No sooner does my mother ask a question that I can actually elaborate on, she tells me that she has to go meet her friends. I disconnect the call and set the phone down, realizing that I’ve devoured the entire plate of food. I stand, debating whether or not to get a second helping. As I walk to the microwave, I think about how delicious dinner is, talking to myself about wanting to someday cook like this. I sit at the island and wonder in amazement at what a good father Adam is to his kids. He could opt to make boxed macaroni and cheese for them, but he usually cooks a well balanced meal, making them try a different vegetable each week. Maybe I’m a little biased, but I think he’s pretty perfect.
Adam silently leans against my back. I feel his lips at the nape of my neck as he runs his nose along the loose strands of hair. My earlobe is sucked in gently between his lips, nibbling with his teeth and tongue. He knows what this does to me. My pulse starts to quicken, the pleasure flowing south causing my core to throb and tingle. “Hello, my beautiful girl. Talking to yourself again?” I detect humor in his voice.
Adam spins my stool around to face him. My arms find their place around his back, my flushed cheek against his chest. I smile, “Hi and yes.”
“It’s not fair. You’re hot and you cook!” I roll my eyes dramatically and a loud yawn escapes me. “I can’t believe I’m still tired. How long was I asleep?”
“A few hours. I tried to wake you, but you were knocked out.” The playful look in his eye tells me that he didn’t just rub my shoulder to get me out of my stupor.
“I was?” I hadn’t slept well the night before. Worrisome thoughts of Adam and Nora seeped stupidly into my unconscious state.
“I thought if I brought you up to bed you’d wake up, but no, you weren’t budging.”
I smile, asking for forgiveness. “Sorry.”
My face is cradled in his hands, his dark eyes searching my face while his thumbs move smoothly across my lips. “You should be sorry because I’m a little upset with you.” What? He’s upset with me? What in the world did I do? “Two reasons really.” He continues to chide me.
“Me? What did I do?” I ask suspiciously.
“Well, for starters. You wasted precious time in your sleep having a nightmare, thinking about Chris DeGennaro,” one of his eyebrows wrinkles with question before smoothing out, “when you could’ve been dreaming of all the ways I love to pleasure you.” He smirks. “And then you almost ruined the kids’ surprise for you, Miss Nosy.” He kisses my nose lightly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you can control your dreams. You’ll have to teach me how to do that,” I mumble sarcastically, finding his soft lips. “Where are the kids anyway?” I strain my neck to look behind him. “I didn’t really ruin their surprise, did I?” I’d feel awful if I did.
“Lucky for you, you didn’t. Besides, I knew you were coming. I could feel you getting closer. I can always feel when you’re close.” The smile on my face widens as my cheeks turn a shade of pink, feeling slightly embarrassed and a lot excited. Those are the same words he says to me when we’re in bed and I’m on the verge of an incredible orgasm.
Adam’s mouth crushes against mine, his tongue slipping in to greet mine and his fingers fist my hair. I feel the tight muscles of his back as my hands drop to his waist, pulling him in closer, needing that constant contact.
“I need you.” His words are a strained whisper, barely audible.
“Please don’t tease me.” I groan, sliding my hands farther down to squeeze his ass.
“Let’s go. Right now.” Before I have the chance to ask what he’s thinking, I’m being hauled up the stairs into his bedroom, tossed onto his bed and straddled.
“Adam, we can’t. The kids are awake and they’re right downstairs.” I struggle in vain to push him off me. My body wants to tell my brain to shut the hell up. It’s not like we haven’t had sex
while the kids were around, but they’re usually tucked snuggly in their beds sound asleep.
“Stop talking. They’re fine. I put a movie on for them in the playroom so we have at least . . . 30 minutes.” He is so bad; he knew exactly what he was doing when he found me in the kitchen. I scowl playfully at him. “What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I told you I need you.”
I pull my shirt over my head, exposing my pink bra before he tugs it down to release my breast. Circling his tongue around, he licks and sucks hard, pulling my nipple taut. He knows my body so well; he’s making me desperate for him. His head lowers to my stomach, placing kisses all along, always paying attention to the faint squiggly lines as he continues lower. I push my feet against the bed to raise myself so he can pull down my black yoga pants, allowing for better access. He grasps the elastic band at my waist and runs his hands over my hips and takes my matching panties down along for the ride.
He’s like a magician—his hard body is completely naked and his stiff length is ready in the blink of an eye. I smile knowing he’s just as desperate to be in me.
I watch in delicious anticipation as he lowers his mouth between the apex of my legs; my hand grasps at my spread thigh while the other hand cradles his head. He works his magic with his tongue, licking and circling, nibbling and sucking. Sliding deep in me are two slick fingers. He curls them and searches for my spot.
Unbridled pants and pleads escape me as I beg for release, crying out his name with sheer desperation. “Oh, God . . . Adam . . .” My body fizzes with electricity as I ride out my orgasm against his mouth and his fingers.
He crawls back up, finding my mouth as he kisses me, letting me taste what he’s done to me. “Please, give it to me.” I beg. I can’t stand that I’m at his mercy, but I don’t care. I would do anything for this man.
Adam connects our bodies intimately with a controlled and deliberately slow slide into my core. Every inch of him fits securely in me. It’s as if the sex gods designed us perfectly for each other. He pulls back just as slowly, savoring the feel of it. Then the assault of pleasure ensues; he plunges in deeper and harder, circling his hips. Beads of sweat form on his chest, a sign of his physical exertion of unrelenting thrusts.