Before I Die Read online

  “I won’t regret it,” I tell him, but the conviction in my voice is gone. Deep down, I know he’s right, and the fact he even cares enough to stop only makes me fall that much harder.

  Ethan grabs the blanket and pulls it over me. “Sleep,” he murmurs. “We have all the time in the world, baby.”

  As my eyes flutter closed and my body melts against his, my last thought before I fall asleep is, I hope you’re right.

  I wake up and open my eyes. When a headache immediately hits, I close them and count to ten. The pain doesn’t decrease, but mentally, I block a lot of it out. When I reopen my eyes, the first thing I notice is Ethan’s warm body is no longer draped around mine. I roll over and the bed is empty. As I stand to go look for him, I realize I fell asleep naked. Grabbing the blanket off the bed, I wrap it around my shoulders to cover my body and then begin my search for him. I check the bathroom and living room and kitchen, but he’s nowhere. While I’m in the kitchen, I grab a couple pills from my purse and swallow them down with a glass of water. As I’m about to head back to the room to look for a phone to call him, I notice the sliding glass door is cracked open.

  I pad across the room and when I get closer, I can make out Ethan’s silhouette in the dark. Opening the door wider, I step out onto the balcony. He’s lying on a comfy-looking day bed with a cigar pinched between his fingers. He glances up at me and spreads his legs, wordlessly indicating to join him.

  Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I pad across the balcony and drop in between his thighs, cuddling close to him. There’s a slight chill in the air, and I shiver, pulling the blanket even tighter. Ethan notices and runs his hands up and down my arms to warm me up. Within minutes I’m warmer and comfortable.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  I glance behind me and see him lift his head slightly, blowing out a plume of smoke. I’ve never smoked cigarettes, and when I’ve been around people who did, I didn’t understand the desire. But as I watch Ethan lazily bring his cigar to his lips and inhale, I can’t help think how sexy he looks. And now that I see him smoking, I recognize the smell. A few times I’ve smelled the scent on him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Now I know.

  “You weren’t in bed,” I say, answering his question.

  “My sleep habits are fucked,” he says, taking another pull of his cigar. “Probably from years of running clubs and casinos. I’m used to going to bed at four in the morning and waking up at ten.” He takes another drag of his cigar and turns his head away to blow the smoke out so it doesn’t hit me.

  “I didn’t know you smoke,” I say. “I’ve smelled it on you, but didn’t know what it was. It smells different than cigarettes.” It smells sweet yet manly. That sounds stupid, like how does a cigar smell manly? But it does.

  “I’ve made it a point not to smoke around you,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

  “Can I try it?” I ask, shifting in my seat, so I’m facing him better.

  Ethan chuckles. “So fucking curious.”

  I think he’s going to tell me no, but he surprises me when he brings the cigar to my mouth. I wrap my lips around it and inhale. The bitter taste hits the back of my throat and I choke out a cough.

  “That definitely smells better than it tastes.”

  “It’s an acquired taste.” He shrugs, taking another drag and then snuffing it out. “Come.” He pats my thigh. “Let’s go to bed. I was thinking tomorrow we can check out the city before we head back.”

  “That would be great.” I turn around and give him a kiss, and he lifts me and carries me back to bed. It’s still early, only ten o’clock, but my body and mind are exhausted and I have no problem falling back to sleep.

  Ethan

  I wake up to something—no, someone—touching me. For a brief second, I think I’m dreaming. It’s been several weeks since I’ve gotten laid. Am I imagining it? But then a soft hand wraps around my hard shaft and I pop my eyes open, knowing there’s no way a dream or my imagination would feel that real.

  “Angel,” I croak out, my voice raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

  I glance down and find Nevaeh getting up close and personal with my dick. She’s lying on her side and is checking out my dick through the hole in my briefs. I took off my jeans last night when we came back to bed, and at some point it either popped through, or she pulled it through. Either way, it’s on display and she’s assessing it.

  “Exploring,” she says, her voice too fucking sweet and innocent.

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I can see that.” She closes her hand around my shaft and strokes it slightly. “I can feel that,” I groan.

  “You won’t let me get close to you when you’re awake.” She shrugs nonchalantly, and fuck if this woman’s innocence isn’t a turn on. “I woke up to go pee and it was poking me in the back. You were sleeping, so I decided to explore.” She squeezes my dick lightly and then flinches. “Sorry.”

  “That doesn’t hurt. You could be a lot rougher than that and it wouldn’t hurt.”

  She nods. “Does it just get hard on its own?”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “More often when you’re around,” I tell her honestly.

  “But you were sleeping.”

  “With your naked ass pressed up against me.”

  “When’s the last time you had sex?” she asks, releasing my dick. Poor thing is so confused. All it wants is for her to continue to touch it.

  “Ethan?” she prompts.

  Oh yeah, she asked me a question… One I’m not about to answer.

  “Not going there with you.”

  “Which means it wasn’t too long ago,” she accuses, her brows furrowing.

  “I can’t help what I did before you.”

  “No… I know,” she says softly. “It’s not that. Gerald broke up with me because I wanted to wait.” The mention of her ex is all my dick needs to deflate. “I know we’re only just getting to know each other, but if you won’t have sex with me because I’m waiting for marriage, aren’t we doomed to fail? Surely, you have needs…”

  The insecurity in her tone makes me want to find that asshole and beat the shit out of him. Sitting up, I grab Nevaeh’s hips and pull her up so she’s straddling my lap.

  “Gerald was a dumbass. I don’t care what a guy says… men can go without sex, and no man should ever tell you different, or make you feel like waiting for you is a deal breaker. If a guy truly cares about you, he will respect your wish to wait.”

  “Easy to say when you haven’t had to go months or years without it,” she argues.

  “Fuck that.” I frame her face with my hands. “I can’t speak for anyone but me, but if it means having you in my arms, I could go without sex for as long as you need me to. Sex with someone you love isn’t about the act. It’s about the feeling.” I swallow thickly, realizing I used the L word. A word I haven’t used since Kelsi.

  Thankfully Nevaeh doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, she wriggles out of my hold and scoots down my body until she’s back between my legs. “But we can still do other stuff… I mean, you’ve gone down on me…” She takes my flaccid dick in her hand and strokes it up and down.

  “Nevaeh,” I groan, torn as to what to do or say. She’s right, I have. And fuck if I don’t want those pretty fucking lips wrapped around my dick. But crossing that line is dangerous. Can I live without sex? Yeah. I wasn’t lying to her when I said I could wait. But I can see through her, and this is her way of toeing the line. And if she keeps pushing the way she is, I’m afraid I’ll give into her because I can’t seem to tell this woman no.

  “Ethan, please,” she begs. “I just want to see what it’s like.” She flutters her lashes, then dips her head down to kiss the head of my dick, and I’m a fucking goner.

  “Fuck,” I breathe, shutting my eyes as she wraps her warm mouth around my dick, and praying I don’t shoot my load like a pubescent teenage boy.

  Not wanting to miss a second of what she’s doi
ng, I pop my eyes back open and watch as she, with all her innocence, explores my dick. When she comes up on her knees to get closer, the blanket slides off her, exposing her slim back, perfect hips, and luscious tits. As she runs her tongue along the veins of my shaft, her pebbled nipples rub against my thigh. I want to reach out and tweak her nipple, but I don’t, knowing this is her time to explore.

  When a bead of pre-cum seeps out, she darts her tongue out to lick it, and I about come on the spot.

  “It doesn’t taste bad,” she notes. “In my books, some say it tastes bad and others say it tastes good.”

  Jesus fuck…

  With her hand stroking my dick, her other one fondles my ballsac. “Does that feel good?” she asks. “Some guys in my books say it does.”

  “Yeah, Angel,” I choke out, willing myself not to come. “It feels good.”

  My response causes her lips to curl into a soft smile.

  “I want to make you orgasm like you’ve made me.” Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t think I’m ready to swallow yet…” When I raise a brow, she adds, “In my books the woman oftentimes chokes and gags.” Her adorable nose scrunches up. “I don’t want that to happen. So can you warn me before you come?”

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say—and I swear if my dick could talk, it would tell me to shut the fuck up.

  “I know, but I want to.” And without another word, Nevaeh wraps her lips around my dick and takes me almost all the way in. What she can’t fit in her mouth, her hand strokes. She sucks and licks me like I’m her favorite popsicle, and while I wish I could watch her do this for the rest of my life, all too soon I’m ready to explode.

  “Angel…” I run my fingers through her thick, curly hair. “I’m going to come.”

  She doesn’t stop for several seconds, and I worry I won’t be able to hold back. But then in the last second, she pops off my dick, and with her tits so close, I shoot my load all over them. And the sight of my cum dripping down her flesh is better than coming in her mouth. She watches in wonder until she’s milked me dry and then she swipes her finger across a ribbon of cum and brings it to her mouth to taste. And if I hadn’t just come, I would be now.

  “That’s not so bad,” she muses, then looks down. “We’re a mess. Will you take a shower with me?”

  Even though I know it’s a bad fucking idea, I nod. “Absolutely.”

  After we’ve showered—and I’ve made her come with my fingers and tongue—we head out to spend the day in the city. I’ve been here a million times over the years, but experiencing it with Nevaeh is different. She’s so innocent and pure. She sees the good in everything and everyone. On every street corner is a homeless man or woman, and every one we see, she makes it a point to stop and give them money. One has a dog with him and she gives him double the amount of money so he can feed them both. We stop by the different museums and shops and she soaks it all in. When it gets dark, and I tell her we have to head home soon because the funeral is tomorrow, she frowns but nods.

  “We’ll come back,” I promise her. “New York isn’t going anywhere.”

  “I know.” Her lips purse together. “I just wish we could stay in this bubble forever. The funeral is going to be so sad, and I have to see my mom and dad.”

  “I’ll be right there with you the entire time.”

  When we pull into the driveway a couple hours later, Rosco pulls in after us.

  “Was he following us the entire time?” Nevaeh asks, stepping out of the vehicle.

  “Of course.” I take her hand in mine. “I’m not taking any chances until Logan and Felix are six feet under.”

  Nevaeh flinches but doesn’t argue.

  We walk into the house, and Rosco remains outside. As we’re heading to the stairs, my mom walks out of the kitchen. She’s wearing an apron—no, not an apron, her apron—and her hair is up in a tight ponytail. She’s several years older, but the way she looks reminds me so much of how she looked when I was growing up. She loved to cook, but she would always spill food on her clothes and then complain. So, one Christmas when I was younger, I went to the mall and bought her that apron. It’s engraved, “Best mom, best cook.”

  “You’re back,” Mom says with a hesitant smile. We’ve barely spoken since she’s been back.

  “I got a tattoo and my belly button pierced,” Nevaeh gushes, walking over to my mom and showing her.

  “Wow, that’s beautiful,” Mom says, checking out the tattoo. “I was just finishing up dinner. Are you two hungry?”

  Mom’s eyes meet mine, and even though Nevaeh and I already ate on the way home, I nod, not wanting to disappoint her. “Yeah, we could eat.”

  Mom’s lips curve into a smile she would give me when I was a kid, and my heart pounds against my ribcage. It’s been twelve fucking years, and I want to be so pissed at her for leaving, but when she looks at me like that, she makes it damn hard. The truth is, I get why she left. I don’t agree with it, but I get it.

  Nevaeh flashes me a knowing grin and adds, “I’m going to go put my clothes away and I’ll meet you guys in a few minutes.”

  Once she’s gone, my mom says, “I really like her.”

  “I do too.”

  “Your dad is in his office if you want to go say hello. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

  Without thinking, I take a step forward and kiss her cheek. “I’m really glad you’re home, Mom. I’ve missed you.”

  When I pull back, her eyes are filled with tears. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve fought for you… for my marriage.”

  “I’ve spent the last twelve years dwelling on the past. It’s time we start focusing on the future. None of us can change what happened. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  After kissing her cheek once more, I head into my dad’s office.

  “Son,” he says, looking up from his computer. “How was your trip?”

  “Good.” I sit in the chair across from him. “Nevaeh loved seeing the city, but we had to come back because her brother’s funeral is tomorrow.”

  Dad frowns. “Have you thought about what you want to do with that situation?”

  “Yeah, I have.” While Nevaeh slept last night, I thought a lot about my options. What will be best for her, for us… and I’ve come to a conclusion. “I want to take them down.”

  Dad nods. “You know I have your back. Always.”

  “This looks horrible,” Nevaeh says, standing in front of the mirror, staring at the third dress she’s tried on. Her wardrobe is limited because I only grabbed a few things, so she’s freaking out.

  “How about this?” my mom asks, stepping into the room and holding up a simple black dress.

  Nevaeh eyes it and breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you.” She pulls my mom into a hug before grabbing the dress and disappearing into the bathroom.

  “How are you doing?” Mom asks, once we’re alone.

  “I’m okay…”

  “Ethan, have you been to a funeral since—”

  “No,” I say, cutting her off. “But today isn’t about me.” It’s because of me…

  “I get that, but it still might be hard.”

  Before I can respond, Nevaeh comes out. The dress my mom lent her fits perfectly. It starts off formfitting up top, then flares out slightly, hitting the tops of her knees. It’s cut low enough, her cleavage peeks out, and the straps are thin enough, her tattoo is perfectly on display. She’s wearing a pair of black heels and her creamy legs look sexy as fuck.

  “You look beautiful,” my mom says. “I’m so sorry for your loss. If you need anything…”

  “Thank you.” Nevaeh forces a smile. “I think I just need to get through the day. I’m hoping it will give me some closure. Help me move forward.”

  I want to tell her it won’t—that the thing about losing a loved one is, you never fully get over it. In time you’ll learn to live with it, force it from your thoughts, but you’ll never completely move past it—but I don’t want to br
ing her down. So instead, I slide my arms around her waist and kiss her glossy lips, careful not to smear them.

  “Whatever you need today, just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Thank you, Ethan.” She pecks my lips. “I think I’m ready to go.”

  She gives my mom a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for the dress.”

  After grabbing her sweater, we head out. Because the funeral is a public affair, and I’m worried Logan or Felix might be dumb and try something, I have not only Rosco, but also Kenny, my doorman and muscle at the club, with us. If Nevaeh notices, she doesn’t comment—probably too lost in her own grief.

  We arrive at the church and she takes a deep breath. “I should warn you… My mom…”

  “Hey.” I turn her face to look at me. “Today is about burying your brother. Just focus on that. You don’t need to worry about me. Let me worry about you. Okay? I’m a big boy and can handle whatever is thrown my way.”

  She doesn’t look convinced, but she nods. I walk around the car and open the door for her. The wind picks up and she shivers, sliding the sweater she brought over her shoulders.

  The parking lot is filled, including dozens of cop cars. Hopefully that will work in our favor and Logan and Felix will think twice before trying anything here.

  When we get to the steps that lead to the front doors, Nevaeh halts in place. “This is where Logan took me.”

  I glance around, confused. “From the church?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “I stepped out and he threw a sack over my head and then threw me into the trunk.”

  “Fuck,” I murmur under my breath, pulling her into my side. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I tell her honestly. “I told him to find you and bring you to me.”

  When her eyes widen in shock and hurt, I add, “I had no intention of hurting you. I didn’t know he was working his own agenda.”

  “I know.”

  “I promise you no one is ever going to hurt you again,” I vow, as I pull her body against mine. “I’m—”