Yours: A Forever After Novella Read online

  Yours…

  A Forever After Novella ~ By Natasha Thomas

  Copyright © 2016 by Natasha Thomas

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  eBook Published and any subsequent printing done and developed in Australia

  First Released, September 23rd, 2016

  Natasha Thomas

  Sydney, Australia

  Email:

  http://[email protected]

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/NatashaThomasAuthor

  Website:

  http://natashathomasautho.wix.com/natashathomas

  Goodreads:

  https://www.goodreads.com/NatashaThomas

  Amazon author page:

  http://www.amazon.com/author/natashathomasauthor

  eBook copyright ©2016

  Natasha Thomas

  All rights reserved

  By purchasing this eBook, it allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading, on your computer, tablet, or another device capable of viewing eBooks. After purchasing, you do not have the rights to; resell, print, distribute, or transfer this book, in part, or whole to any other person via any method currently known, or yet to be conceived, or developed in the future. It may also, not be uploaded, in part or whole, to any file sharing programs, websites, or social media outlets. Being resold, given, or transferred to any other person is in direct violation of the Australian, and U.S. Copyright Laws.

  Warning

  This book is a work of fiction and is written to be taken as such.

  Characters, names, road names, motorcycle clubs, places, businesses, towns, events, and incidents are a product of the author’s own thoughts, and imagination. As such, any resemblance to persons living, or dead, actual events, or incidents, the past, present, or future, is purely coincidental and is not in any way intended to offend, upset, or disturb person/s reading its content.

  This book is intended for mature audiences aged 18 and over. It contains content that may be viewed as disturbing for some readers, graphic sexual scenes and references, coarse language, and violence.

  Acknowledgements

  Wow, I really thought I wasn’t going to finish this one in time. These characters took me on so many crazy detours it was hard to decipher where they wanted me to go. But hey, Lyric, Harleigh and I got there in the end, and that’s all that matters.

  You’re probably getting sick of me saying this by now, but too bad. My husband deserves a big thank you for each and every book I publish for being so patient and keeping the bed warm for me. I might not spend a lot of time in it, but it's good to know my human furnace is looking out for me. Love you honey xxx

  My team of amazing BETA readers; Jamie – who is also my pimp post Angel – Angie, Linda, Cheryl, and my newest addition, Kelly, you ladies rock! I always love hearing your feedback and finding ways to improve my storylines. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my books enough to read for me. I will never be able to adequately express what it means to me that you take time out of your busy lives to help me live my dream.

  A big shout out goes to Belinda Battles, creative illustrator extraordinaire, who is the mastermind behind Forever After’s covers. I know it was a rush, but thank you for creating something amazing so quickly.

  And of course, to the long-suffering, Micha; relax. I’m kindly giving you a two-week reprieve from having to deal with my crazy ass before I send you the next round of emails. Take a Valium, drink a mojito, and go get laid. You’re far too uptight for a man of your age. Regardless of the fact that we drive each other insane, and I’m sure you’re harboring homicidal thoughts about me, you know I love you to pieces.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of the blogs, reviewers and Facebook pages that help to promote and market my books. You guys are awesome and deserve more credit than you are given on any day ending in Y.

  To my truly awesome readers. I say it all the time, but I couldn’t keep doing this without you. Thank you for all your kind words and encouragement; I love reading your messages and emails. You guys keep me going when I’m tired and un-caffeinated, thinking about how best to destroy my laptop so I don’t have to look at it for a second longer. So on behalf of me and my computer, thank you from the bottom of my heart. xxx

  Dedication

  For Liberty…

  You are someone to be cherished, and I’m honored to call you my friend.

  Table of Contents

  Warning

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Harleigh ~

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~ Harleigh ~

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~ Harleigh ~

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ~ Harleigh ~

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~ Harleigh ~

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~ Lyric ~

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~ Harleigh ~

  EPILOGUE

  ~ Lyric ~

  Bonus Content

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~ Farrah ~

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Jake ~

  Forever After series

  Dark Knights Series

  Other books in the Vengeance MC series

  Books in the Devil’s Spawn MC series

  Books in the Patricks’ Brothers Series

  About the author

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~ Lyric ~

  Lots of stories start the same way; with a brief glimpse into how it all began or a detailed recount of the hero or heroine’s life up until this particular point. Straight up, that shit is boring as fuck.

  No one wants to read about how boy met girl, crushed on her from afar, had wet dreams that lasted years before he manned up and told her how he feels about her. You also don’t want to read about the days where nothing happened. When time felt like it stood still as the hero of the story waited for the girl to wake up and see what was staring her in the face all along.

  That’s why I’m going to do this differently. I’m not going to ease you into it nice and slow like a cock finding its way home for the first time. Instead, I plan to start off how I mean to continue; raw, gritty, a little bit nasty, and with brutal honesty.

  Twenty-six years ago, I had my first brush with an angel. She was tiny, fragile, and just the sight of her had every protective instinct a two-year-old kid could possibly have flaring to life. Everything about my angel screamed perfection. But little did I know at the time, that perfection would only mature into something so flawless, so precious my world would be knocked off its axis never to be righted again.

  Harleigh Blaine Scott was born at seven oh two in the morning on the fourteenth of February twenty-six years ago. All five and a half pounds and seventeen inches of her was destined to be my game changer the moment she drew her first breath.

  Her mom and dad, Fury and Avery didn’t know it then, and I doubt they’d agree if you asked them now, but Harleigh was always meant to be mine. They may be the ones who raised her, put a roof over her head, clothes on her back, and food in her belly, but I was the one who would take care of her for the rest of her life.

  I knew that when I was two. I was sure of it
when I was twelve. The day I turned sixteen and looked Harleigh in the eyes, I promised it. But it wasn’t until I lost her that I realized how little any of that meant.

  You can pledge your loyalty and devotion to someone. You can promise to honor and cherish them every day for the rest of your life. You can forsake all others, vowing only to love them and only them until you close your eyes for the last time. But what you can’t do is force someone to do the same in return.

  The love I feel for Harleigh is limitless. There are no words to describe the intensity of my feelings every time I look into her jade green eyes. I could tell you my heart beats only to see her smile, that my pulse races at the sound of her laugh, and my cock thickens when I smell the barest hint of her scent, and it would all be true. But it wouldn’t be the whole truth. Not even close.

  There’s a whole lot more to my obsession with the only girl I could ever or have ever loved, and it begins and ends with this…

  Eight years ago, my inherently misguided thought processes weren’t all that different than they are today. In my mind, possession is nine-tenths of the law; ergo, if I put a ring on it, then Harleigh would be mine, and I would be hers forever. So that’s what I did.

  Harleigh Blaine Scott became, Harleigh Blaine Williams in a quickie ceremony presided over by a local judge that could be bought with a few hundred bucks. There were no witnesses, no one to stand up beside us, and our families were never told. It was between Harleigh and me, the only two people who mattered and I was good with that.

  But that was then, and this is now. Nothing and everything had changed since the day I married Harleigh.

  She is still my wife, I still love the hell out of her, and there is still nothing I wouldn’t do to see her happy every day for the rest of her life. Except this. Except for the one thing she’s been asking of me for the last three and a half years; a divorce.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Harleigh ~

  “As much as I’d like to say I told you so, I’ll reserve the right to do my nanny-nanny foo-foo dance later,” Faye smirks.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” I return absently, rooting around my closet for my leopard print Prada heels.

  “Ah, quick question,” she hedges. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be meeting with the contractors who are designing the new stage set in half an hour and your still head down ass up, buried in shoes.”

  Yeah, well, what can I say? When faced with the daunting prospect of facing down one's husband after being separated for four years (my choice, but still), a girl needs designer armor goddammit.

  “Hmmph,” I huff, continuing to rifle through an endless mountain of stilettos, wedges, cute sandals, and the odd pair of tennis shoes. Hmm, I wonder how the hell they got in there. It sure as crap wasn’t my doing. After all, I think I’m allergic to the gym, much to my current pain in the asses dismay.

  Ever since Faye gave birth to Tripp three years and however many months ago, she’s been firmly on the eat well, live well, exercise until your ass shrinks bandwagon. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for looking hot whatever outfit I choose to strut my stuff in, but you won’t catch me dead in yoga pants and a tank top unless I have a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in my hand and Netflix on the TV.

  Not to mention, if Faye truly practiced what she preached, maybe she should consider closing her legs for five whole consecutive minutes so as not to end up knocked up at the mere sight of her husband's sperm.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Faye. Baby where are you?” The annoying friend inseminator yells.

  “Upstairs honey,” my equally obnoxious boss and best friend slash sudo-sister calls back.

  Jesus, what I wouldn’t give for ten seconds of peace, I sigh to myself. All of which is null and void when a small set of arms wrap around my neck, practically choking me out.

  “Guess what, Lee-lee?” My adorable, yet vexing godson cries.

  “Sup, little dude,” I reply, falling onto my side gently, taking him with me.

  Wrapping my arms around his middle, I blow raspberries on Tripp’s neck and inhale the sweet smell of the baby shampoo Faye still likes to use on him and his sister, Maddie.

  “I saaaaaid, guess what?” He says, drawing out the words.

  “Okay, I’ll play. What?” I smile, ruffling his hair.

  Clapping his hands excitedly, Tripp wriggles out of my arms.

  “Uncle Lyric is here. He came all the way from his house to see me, and he bringed his bike.”

  Fuck my life. Fuck my life right in the ass with a picket fence pailing.

  I may have been the one to make the decision for us to separate all those years ago, but it wasn’t one my husband agreed or even pretended to agree with. No, Lyric the big, bad biker vehemently disagrees with anything that would put any distance between us until I gave him no choice but to accept it. And that came in the form of an ultimatum; one he abided by for the last five years, but I had a feeling wouldn’t be any longer.

  “Did you hear me, Lee-lee?” My godson asks exasperatedly, tugging on some of the hair that has escaped the messy knot on the top of my head. “I said, Uncle Lyric is here, and he bringed people with him.”

  Uh-huh, I just bet he did, I internally fume.

  “Okay, little man. Time to let Lee-lee up so she can keep digging for gold,” Dante chuckles, leaning down to scoop his son up.

  Throwing Tripp over his shoulder, Dante turns his eyes to me and warns,

  “The alarms on. The doors are locked. There’s no escape this time, babe. So get that shit out of your head. It’s time you face this crap and put an end to whatever bullshit you two are playing at so you can both move on. I don’t give a fuck whether that’s together or apart, just get it done.”

  My inner bitch goes rabid at Dante’s command, but the rational side of me tells that whore to simmer down because killing him will only put a strain on my relationship with his much less annoying wife.

  “Aye, aye captain,” I salute him, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  “Watch it, Barbie, your inner bitch is showing,” he smirks, cocking his head to the side awaiting my snarky reply because he knows it’s coming.

  “I take offense to that,” I hiss. “Barbie is a clueless airhead who continues to fuck a flamingly homosexual Ken; all while maintaining her impossible to achieve figure through a dangerous combination of plastic surgery and bulimia. I, however, like my food and believe it’s wasteful to recycle it. I am not clueless, nor do I seek out the company of men who prefer cock to cooch, so take it back.”

  Dante throws his head back and barks out a laugh before rolling his eyes at me and walking out of the room.

  “He’s right you know,” Faye mutters, handing me the sneaky Prada stowaway that had been hiding in the deep, dark abyss that by any other name is called a closet.

  “Mmhmm, I’m sure he thinks he is,” I return, slipping the magnificently architectured beauty onto my foot.

  “No, Hails, seriously,” she pushes. “I know Dante can be a lot to handle sometimes, and he isn’t always tactful about how he says things, but in this case, everything he said is true. You and Lyric need to sit down and work out your differences and decide how to move forward. Both of you are so stubborn and stuck in the past for so long, that the cracks are starting to show. And while you might not care, me, your brothers, your sister, your parents and his family do. This is hard for everyone, Harleigh. We haven’t been able to spend one single holiday together since all this started, and I for one have had enough.”

  “Faye,” I whisper, hating that my clusterfuck of a relationship is hurting her like this.

  “No, Hails, just no,” she shakes her head. “Please, if not for you, do it for me. Sort whatever it is out. You know I’ll support your decisions no matter what, and I have, but you’re about to leave on tour with Darkness Rising for three months…”

  Faye’s words trail off when the deep, resonant boom of my husband's voice
echoes from the doorway.

  “Oh, no she’s fucking not. Over my dead body is my girl stepping foot on a bus full of horny as fuck men for months on end.”

  And so it begins…

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~ Lyric ~

  Listening from the doorway wasn’t enough, so I stuck my head in and was immediately assaulted by the sight of my wife’s luscious ass in the air while she struggled to find whatever the hell it was she was searching for. As far as I’m concerned, whatever it is can stay lost because that is the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever seen. Until Faye just had to go and ruin it that is.

  Harleigh slides a heel on her slim foot, straighten her black pencil skirt and glares at her best friend, all while I fight with my overeager cock to keep his shit in check and not go off like a heat-seeking missile at the sight of his target.

  It’s been years since I’ve had her naked beneath me, moaning my name and writhing helplessly while I fuck her raw, but the little bastard has a long memory that right now is doing me no favors.