by Tracy Wolff
My words have an immediate effect on him. His eyes darken, his skin flushes, his thrusts grow harder and faster until he’s pounding into me hard enough to shake the headboard.
Over and over he thrusts into me. Over and over I rise to meet him. Pleasure is a white-hot flame inside of me, burning brighter and brighter with each second that passes. With each moment that he’s inside of me.
“I love you,” I tell him, pressing my mouth against his chest and sucking until I give him a bruise that rivals any he’s ever given me. “I love you so much.”
I don’t know if it’s the words or the love bite, but whatever it is, it pushes Ethan to the brink. Slipping a hand between us, he brushes his thumb over my clit, once, twice.
I’m so far gone that that’s all it takes. I grab on to Ethan, and hold him tight as I hurtle over the edge into an ecstasy so powerful that it almost burns me alive. Ethan comes then, too, emptying himself inside of me with a series of long, sexy pulses that feel better than anything ever has. Or ever will.
In those moments, as pleasure arcs between us, he takes everything I have, everything I am. Gives me all of himself in return. Eternity stretches between us and it’s enough, more than enough. It’s everything, and so is he.
—
An hour later, I step out of the bathroom—freshly showered—to find a large, burgundy envelope on my pillow. It’s the first one Ethan has given me since Brandon died and my heart beats faster at the sight of it.
I cross the room quickly, snatch it up. It’s not what’s inside of it that matters so much to me—it’s the knowledge that, despite everything, Ethan and I really are going to be okay. That means more than anything he could ever buy me.
The envelope isn’t sealed, so it only takes a moment for me to lift the flap with trembling hands. I pour the contents on the bed and then sift through them, slowly, my heart warming a little more at each new discovery.
I pick up the book first. It’s thin and tattered, obviously used, but that only makes it more precious to me. Because one look at the back cover and I know what it is—a first edition English/Spanish translation of the 100 Love Sonnets Pablo Neruda wrote to his wife. I run my hand over the cracked front cover, trace the letters of Neruda’s name with my fingertips. Then open up, from memory alone, to Sonnet XVII one of my favorite poems in the entire volume. “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, / in secrets, between the shadow and the soul.”
I run my fingers over the first stanza, mouthing the words that I have always loved, though have only truly come to understand since I met Ethan. Reluctantly, I put the poetry book aside and reach for the next item that came from the package. It’s a purple calla lily that’s been dried and pressed and I know, instinctively, that it’s one of my wedding flowers. Ethan must have taken it from the back of the limo when I wasn’t watching and saved it for this. For me.
Sentimental tears bloom in my eyes and I blink them away. But they just come back again. I’ve never cried this much in my life—stupid hormones making everything off-kilter. At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I put the fragile blossom back in the envelope so it won’t get damaged, then slide the envelope into the top drawer of my nightstand. I’m keeping that flower as long as I plan to keep Ethan, which is pretty much forever.
After I make sure the flower is safe, I pick up the third item that came from the envelope—a long, thin rope in black silk that puts all kinds of naughty ideas in my head. Ideas that I’m pretty sure Ethan had every intention of putting there.
The last item is a plane ticket and I pick it up gingerly. Knowing Ethan it’s to someplace exotic for that honeymoon we never got to take. And while the idea of spending lazy days doing nothing but lying on the beach and making love to my husband sounds absolutely wonderful, the truth is I can’t take any more time away from my internship. I don’t care who I’m married to, I don’t care that I won’t get fired. It’s my job and I take it very, very seriously. I don’t want to tell Ethan no, especially not when he’s just coming back to himself, but I won’t be able to go anywhere until at least next summer after I’ve graduated. And by then, we’ll have a baby.
There’s a small knot of dread in my stomach as I open up the ticket—I hope it’s not to Paris because I’d have a really difficult time turning Paris down even if it is the right thing to do—and end up staring in confusion at a four-day ticket to San Francisco at the end of the summer, right before the fall semester starts.
“I thought you might want to take a couple days to go see Stanford and UC San Francisco law schools,” Ethan says as he walks into the room. “They’re the best on the West Coast, and since you’re a senior, I figure it’s probably time for you to take a look at them.”
“I—I—” I’m stuttering, but this is actually the last thing I ever expected. “I figured I’d go to University of San Diego.” Three months ago, USD hadn’t been in my top ten choices, but three months ago I wasn’t married to the CEO of Frost Industries, either. And since Ethan’s company is headquartered in San Diego, USD seemed like the logical choice. It’s not Stanford, but it’s still a really good school, one I could do well at.
“If that’s what you want to do, that’s great,” he tells me, coming over to sit next to me on the bed. “But,” he continues as he takes my hand, “it’s not your only option. San Francisco is only an hour flight away—”
“You’d be okay with me moving up there for three years?”
He snorts. “No. But I’d be perfectly okay with us moving up there for three years, if that’s what you want.”
“But what about Frost Industries? You have to be here—”
“Again, it’s an hour plane ride. And, in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got my own plane. And my own helicopters. I can fly down here a few days a week and still be home for dinner.” He leans forward, presses a long, lingering kiss to my mouth. “If you want to go to USD, I’m totally on board for that. But if you want to go to Stanford, then I’m up for that, too. I’ve already gotten my degrees and, in case you haven’t noticed, my career is doing pretty well. So I’ve got no problem working around your school for a few years if it means you get what you want instead of having to settle. You deserve that.”
I can’t help it. I burst into tears, wild sobs that shake my whole body and send tears pouring from my eyes.
Ethan’s own eyes widen with alarm. “Whoa, hey. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I was trying to set your mind at ease. But if you don’t want to go to Stanford—”
“I love you,” I tell him, throwing myself against him so hard that I nearly knock us both to the floor. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful that you’re mine. I love you so much.”
He pulls me onto his lap, runs a soothing hand through my hair as he gently rocks me. “I love you, too. More than anything, ever.”
When I finally stop crying enough to make some kind of coherent sense, I lean my forehead against his and say, “I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve been trying to find the right time for weeks now, but things have been so messed up—”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare fucking apologize to me for what happened or how you feel about it. He was your brother—”
“He ra—”
“We’re not doing this anymore.” I slam a hand down over his mouth before he can say anything else. “The past is over and we’re not going to beat ourselves up over it one day longer. I’m not having it. Not anymore, not ever again. And certainly not right now, when I finally get to tell you this.”
“Tell me what?”
I take his hand, press it against my stomach. “We’re going to have a baby.”
His eyes—those beautiful indigo eyes of his—go wide. “You’re…” His voice trails off and he swallows, hard. “You’re pregnant?”
I nod.
“A baby,” he says again.
“Yes.”
“We�
�re going to have a baby.”
“Yes.”
He looks so shocked that I’m beginning to get a little nervous. He has to have thought about it, right? I mean, more than once, we’ve been somewhere and not used protection. This can’t really be that big of a surprise, can it?
“Ethan,” I start cautiously as he just continues to stare at me with wide eyes. “Are you okay with this? I mean—”
Suddenly, he’s kissing me. Over and over and over again. Slow, sweet kisses on my lips. Fast, sweeter kisses on my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead, my neck. “We’re having a baby,” he repeats between the kisses. “You’re having my baby.”
I laugh, because how can I not when I’m this happy? When life is this good? “I am. I’m having your baby.”
He jumps up then, spins me around. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll find a sitter who can watch the baby while you’re in school. Or I can work from home while you’re in class. Or bring the baby to the office. Or—”
For the second time today, I press a hand to his mouth. “I’m only two months along,” I tell him softly. “We have plenty of time to work everything out.”
“Two months,” he repeats. “So, it’ll be a March baby.”
“That’s what the doctor tells me. March fifth.”
He frowns then. “You’ve already been to the doctor?”
“Just to confirm. My first obstetrics appointment isn’t for two weeks.”
“I’m coming with you.” He says it like he’s prepared for an argument. But if the man I love wants to take an interest in our child, who am I to tell him differently?
“Of course you are.”
He kisses me again, and this time it’s slower and sexier than the ones that came before. “You don’t need to worry about anything, Chloe. I’m going to take care of you and this baby and—”
“And I’m going to take care of you,” I tell him firmly. “Because that’s how this whole marriage/partner thing works.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, sliding me slowly down his body until I’m once again back on my feet. “Is that how it works?”
“Well, that’s what my really sexy husband once told me.”
“Your really sexy husband sounds really smart.”
I pretend to consider. “Eh, not so much. But he’s pretty to look at, so I keep him around.”
He pinches my ass then, hard enough to get my attention and have me laughing, but not hard enough to hurt. Then he lowers his lips to mine and his kiss is filled with so much love, so much laughter, so much joy that my tears start all over again.
“It’s going to be okay,” he tells me when he pulls back, his thumbs rubbing away the tears on my cheeks. “I promise, Chloe. We’re going to be okay.”
“No, Ethan. We’re not going to be okay,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him to me as tightly as I can. “We’re going to be fabulous, wonderful, amazing—”
“Perfect,” he tells me as he presses his mouth to mine. “The three of us are going to be just perfect.”
And since I like the happiness in his voice at least as much as I like the feel of his lips against mine, I decide not to tell him that there’s no such thing as perfect. Which is fine. Because, somehow, despite everything we’ve gone through, Ethan and I are almost perfect. And that’s more than good enough for me.
For Sue and Gina
Acknowledgments
I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am that this book is finally making its way into the world. Every once in a while, a story comes along that is so big, and so important to a writer, that it scares her. For me, Exposed is that story. It was a difficult book to write, but in the end, it was also a very rewarding one. Ethan and Chloe have been a part of my life for more than two years and saying goodbye to them is definitely bittersweet. But I’ve come to love this book and hope that my fans will as well.
I have to begin this section by saying thank you to my fans, who have been so enthusiastic about Ethan and Chloe. I appreciate your excitement and support for them—and for me—more than I can ever say. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Sue Grimshaw, I am so grateful to work with you. You are an amazing editor and an even more amazing person and I am so, so thrilled to count you as a friend. I know what a pain I am and I am so, so, so appreciative of your support and the way you’ve stuck by me from the very beginning. Thanks so much for your unflagging enthusiasm for this book and this series. It means the world to me.
Gina Wachtel, thank you so, so much for everything you do for me! You are the best champion a girl—or a writer—could ever ask for and I adore you more than I can ever say. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Kimberly, Matt, Allison, Penelope, and everyone at Random House who has been so wonderful too, and so supportive of me—I appreciate each and every one of you. Your enthusiasm, ingenuity, and support mean the world to me and I am so grateful that I get to work with you.
Emily McKay, Shellee Roberts, Tera Lynn Childs, and Sherry Thomas—I can’t write a book that doesn’t credit you four in the acknowledgments. You are the best friends, writing partners, brainstormers, and ass-kickers a girl could ever ask for and I love you all so, so much! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Martin Torres—I’m so, so grateful that you came back into my life when you did. Your support, humor, and joie de vivre make life so much fun! I love you bunches!
Emily Sylvan Kim—I don’t even know what to say here. I didn’t realize just how lucky I was the day you agreed to be my agent and I thank the universe for you every single day. You’re the best agent, cheerleader, and friend a girl could ever ask for. Thank you so much for everything!
And finally, my boys, whom I love more than I can ever say. We’ve had a rough couple of years and I just want to say thank you for hanging in there and being the coolest, most wonderful sons in the whole world. You amaze me every day and I am so, so grateful that I get to be your mother.
BY TRACY WOLFF
Ethan Frost Novels
Ruined
Addicted
Exposed
Flawed (coming soon)
Other Books
Full Exposure
Tie Me Down
Play Me (serialization)
Extreme Risk Series
Shredded
Shattered
Slashed (coming soon)
PHOTO: © KEVIN GOURLEY
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author TRACY WOLFF lives in Texas and teaches writing at her local community college. She is married and the mother of three young sons.
www.tracywolffbooks.com/
Facebook.com/TracyWolffAuthor
@TracyWolff
The Editor’s Corner
May flowers are abloom and so are our fabulous Loveswept romances—beautiful covers and stories to fill your eReaders to the brim!
New this month is New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff’s next Ethan Frost installment, Exposed—the more time I can spend with Chloe and Ethan the more “happy-happy-happy” I am. Next up is a new storyteller we’ve added to our list, Gina Gordon, and her risqué love affair, Rush, where a bad boy shows a straitlaced law student how to slow down and savor the good things. And what happens when you start falling for your worst enemy? New York Times bestselling author Missy Johnson and debut author Ashley Suzanne tell you all about it in Breaking Noah. The final installment of The Devil’s Den dancers by Violetta Rand also comes out this month, so look for Sin. The third book in Cecy Robson’s Shattered Past series Once Pure, will be on sale as well, where true love lands a knockout punch.
Western contemporary fans will be thrilled to know USA Today bestselling author Tina Leonard’s Last of the Red-Hot Riders will be available, featuring the toughest rodeo rider in Hell, Texas.
And, PNR fans, never fear—Witches Be Burned, A Magic & Mayhem novel releases from USA Today bestselling author Stacey Kennedy, where a rookie guardian sworn to combat the undead risks life and l
ove in a world of violence, witchcraft, and seduction.
New Adult audiences will enjoy Amber Hart’s Captured by You, the sequel to Until You Find Me, in which Raven and Jospin must fight for each other in a world where love is never safe—and power is deadly.
Meet new friends this month with Loveswept books—stories that invite you on fabulous journeys with some pretty amazing characters. Who knows, you may find a new book boyfriend, too!
Until next month ~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
Flawed
An Ethan Frost Novel
by Tracy Wolff
Coming soon from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Tori
There are too many people here. Oh, I like a good party as much as the next girl—especially when it’s hosted by none other than the magnificent Ethan Frost—but not when the party is filled with this many people. And more important, these people.
Oh, some of them are cool enough—Ethan has invited his actual friends to this thing, after all. But the rest of the people here? The business acquaintances who are also the movers and shakers of the West Coast business and tech scene? Those people I can do without.
The huge house that I’ve visited dozens of times now to see Chloe—Ethan’s wife, and my best friend—is packed to the brim and I can see the panic in her eyes when she glances across the room at me. My best friend is no candy-ass, no shrinking violet who can’t take care of herself, but this crush is a bit much to ask of anyone who is brand new to the elite California social scene. Hell, it’s a bit much to ask of me and I was born into this world. More’s the pity.
Dropping my empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter, I snag another one and drain it in one long sip. It’s my fifth since I got here an hour ago and it settles the last of the nerves I’ve spent the past sixty minutes refusing to acknowledge. After all, parties like this are a dime a dozen to me. Or at least they used to be.