Intoxicate Read online

  Intoxicate

  Copyright © 2015 by Tessa Teevan

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Editor: Mickey Reed

  Cover Designer: Robin Harper of Wicked by Design

  Photographer: Brian Mabasa Litrato

  Cover Model: Michael Ceorgoveanu

  Formatter: Champagne Formats

  Table of Contents

  OTHER BOOKS

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  PLAYLIST

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SNEAK PEEK

  Other Books by Tessa Teevan

  Explosive

  Ignite

  Incinerate

  Inflame

  The Wellingtons

  Combust

  Conflagration

  Sweet Southern Sorrow

  WHAT THE fuck was I thinking?

  The thought crosses my mind as I stare up at the ceiling, mentally forming shapes in the textured lines, trying to keep my eyes—and my thoughts—off the beautiful woman sleeping in my bed. The remnants of our champagne frenzy have my head swimming, as I’m not used to drinking much these days, especially not the sugary-sweet stuff.

  It’s silent in the hotel suite except for the sound of her soft, little snores and my ever-racing heart. I place my hand on my chest, my fingers tapping anxiously, wanting her to wake up so I can gauge how she’s feeling yet unsure I want to talk about it. It’s confliction at its finest. But that’s par for the course when it comes to her.

  I have no idea what woke up me up, and even though I should be exhausted, I can’t fall back asleep. The woman lying next to me has my mind running a hundred miles a minute, and no matter how hard I try to turn my brain off, sleep escapes me. Glancing at my phone, I groan when I see that it’s only been a few hours since we passed out from pure exhaustion—and exertion. I wonder if anyone noticed we never came back last night. Then my eyes catch sight of my new screen saver—my wedding photo—and all at once, everything becomes crystal clear.

  I know exactly what I was thinking. Every moment since she showed up in Tennessee has led us here, even though I tried like hell to fight it. And hell, did I fight it—until I just couldn’t anymore. Until I didn’t want to anymore.

  The thing is, I’ve been a single father for over a decade. My daughter, Lily, is the most important person in my life, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure she’s protected. Even if it means giving up my freedom and getting married in an off-the-Strip chapel with complete strangers as witnesses.

  Fortunately, there wasn’t an Elvis in sight. And Captain Kirk was unavailable, so we were able to keep it at least a little bit classy. Not that she hadn’t tried looking for the perfect impersonator to link us for life. Or, well, for as long as it takes. Where we went was fresh out of celebrity impersonators, and we ended up saying our vows in front of a man who looked more like a pastor than the owner of a Las Vegas one-stop wedding shop. It almost made the whole thing seem real. Hell, I wanted to make it real and I didn’t know why.

  The memory causes my heart to constrict. I no longer have any idea what real even means anymore.

  Despite what it might look like, this isn’t the typical “waking up in Vegas hungover and married with no recollection of the night before” kind of story. Okay, so the hangover may be there, but that’s from the aftermath, not the decision making. Getting married? I did that with an entirely clear and sober mind. There wasn’t a single drop of alcohol in my system when she slid her hand into mine and asked if I was “ready to do this?” I remember the entire thing, from start to finish. Every single detail.

  I remember walking into the chapel nearly in a daze, my mind at war with itself even as we signed the paperwork. Could I go through with this? Could I ask her to sacrifice so much for me? For Lily? But as soon as the officiant had me repeating, “I do,” I felt relief and excitement, not trepidation.

  I remember her beaming smile, the crystal sheen of shimmering tears in her eyes. I almost believed she wanted this as much as I was beginning to realize I did—even if it was for the entirely wrong reasons.

  Or was it?

  I remember the moment my lips touched hers as soon as we were declared man and wife. I tried forcing myself to not deepen the kiss but failed miserably. I remember how it rivaled the last time—which was also the first time—my lips were on hers before the phone call that changed my life. And now hers.

  I remember the way she laced her fingers through mine as we left the chapel and, after a few more stolen kisses, her request that we go back to my room, order champagne, and celebrate properly. The devilish gleam in her eyes told me exactly how properly spent she wanted her wedding night to be.

  I definitely remember the celebrating. How could I forget the rush it was being with her for the first time, after having wanted her for so long? I’ll always remember how it felt to slide into her warmth as her passionate cries echoed in the room while I whispered in her ear everything I’ve wanted to do to her since the moment I laid eyes on her, the overwhelming sense of ownership and possession that washed over me as I made her come. She was finally mine.

  Yet she wasn’t. Not really.

  And dammit, that bothers me more than it should.

  Now that I’ve woken up with a pounding headache and satisfying memories of our first time together, I just hope she remembers it as affectionately as I do.

  As if she’s reading my mind, a warm hand slides onto my chest and her nails softly rake my skin. Shivers run down my spine at the memory of her doing just that to my back a few hours ago. As I turn to look at her, her perky smile greets me, affection written all over her beautiful face. Her expression is laced with sleepiness yet mixed with desire, and I know she remembers everything, too.

  Thank Christ.

  For a split second, my heart tightens at the implication of what we’ve done, but then the idea of her waking up next to me every morning from here on out without having to leave her in the middle of the night has familiar feelings rising to the surface. Feel
ings I’ve been trying to fight for the last few months. But now, as I lie here staring at our wedding bands, I’m aware that my efforts of resisting were futile—even if I was the stupid one to come up with the so-called pact.

  Absolutely no falling in love.

  Easier said than done. It’s only been a matter of days and I’m already a goner. The battle between my heart and my mind is officially over, my heart having won out. And the fact that she was willing to do this for me? It means more to me than she’ll ever know.

  Because this girl, who’s been off-limits for so damn long, married me last night.

  Kalli Montgomery, my best friend’s little sister, is now my wife.

  And I know exactly what I was thinking.

  KALLI CONTINUES to caress my chest, and then her hand suddenly stops. She shifts to the side of the bed and turns on the lamp before rolling back towards me. I watch with mild amusement as she holds her hand up in front of her and eyes the ring on her left finger. Her eyes widen, racing to meet mine.

  “Umm, did you roofie me last night?”

  I narrow my eyes and glare at her. “Kalliope . . .” I growl as I deepen my nearly nonexistent accent, using her full name to let her know I’m not amused. Spanish phrases are her weakness, and even though I barely speak the language to anyone else, I’m not above using it to turn her on. Or scold her. Or, well, to do both at the same time. That’s usually her favorite combination.

  She lets out a slow, sexy laugh as she leans up to give me a kiss on the cheek, her lips lingering on my skin. “Calm down, Cruz. I’m just kidding. Although I probably did have a little too much champagne last night. But hey, a little overindulgence is good for the soul every once in a while. And if you can’t let loose in Vegas, where can you?” She pauses, taking note of my silence as her playful eyes meet mine. “I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, Xavier. Remember what we said?” she asks, taking my left hand and entwining it with hers so our rings are aligned.

  The wedding band should feel heavy, like a weight holding me down, the infamous ball and chain that comes with marital commitment, but instead, for the first time in nearly ten years, I feel light. Like that weight’s been lifted and I can finally breathe again.

  A sudden urge to growl the word “wife” as I pin her down on the bed and slide into her again until she gives herself to me wholly is consuming, and I struggle to push it back. To not make this any more than it is. Hell, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and my emotions are already running wild.

  She lets out a throaty laugh, breaking my train of thought. She’s watching me with amusement, and I finally remember that she asked me a question.

  “No regrets,” I say, hoping she still feels the same.

  She squeezes my hand and smiles warmly, her relief apparent. “Exactly. No regrets, Xavier. We made this decision together, and it’s for the best. We both know that. And come on. I’m a catch. You could definitely do worse,” she teases. “And as for you? I’m not sure I could do much better.”

  As I run my fingers through my hair, I try to come to terms with the fact that I’m now a married man. Not only that, but I’m married to Kale’s sister and I have no idea how I’m going to tell him. Breaking the news to my best friend will be even harder than telling my daughter. I have a feeling Lily’s going to be all too pleased with this new development, considering how close they’ve become. That alone should worry me, but I won’t let it because I know she’s going to be good for us regardless of the circumstances. Hell, she already is. She’s proven that much and more in the last six months.

  From the moment I met Kalli Montgomery, I have been drawn to her. Her light, her free spirit, her strong will, and her ability to laugh no matter the situation. For the first time since Angela left me a single dad with a newborn baby, I felt a stirring for a woman. An attraction. A pull. I can’t quite describe it, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I couldn’t ignore the sound of her laugh, the way her eyes shone every time she looked at me. How my stomach tightened when her hand would graze my skin. How in tune she seemed to be for my infant daughter’s needs, and how in tune I was with my attraction to her. God, I wanted her.

  Then Kale dropped the bomb that she was only sixteen and I may have freaked the hell out that I was attracted to someone her age. That I wanted her as badly as I did. A twenty-one-year-old single dad in the Army and a teenager didn’t mix, and as much as I hated to admit it, I had to face the facts. So I decided that the best thing to do would be to maintain my distance, knowing there was no way I was going to mess around with Kale’s underage sister. Begrudgingly, I brushed off my growing infatuation and threw myself into raising the most important woman in my life—my daughter.

  That doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching her when she wasn’t looking. Instead of showing my attraction, I pretended I wasn’t affected by her. Treating her like my own kid sister was a feat in itself when all of my thoughts weren’t anything familial, but I knew it was for the best. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  It didn’t bother me that she seemed to have a different boyfriend every time I went home with Kale. It didn’t bother me one bit the way she flaunted them in front of me, not caring who witnessed her on-the-couch make-out sessions. It didn’t bother me so much that I was always willing to play up the protective-big-brother role any time Kale wanted to give one of the guys a little warning. What did bother me, however, were the letters she’d send me when I was deployed. The flirty tone, the scent of cucumber melon from her signature body spray on the paper, and the way it felt to receive something from her. My heart raced every time I saw her name on the return label no matter how hard I tried to deny it. The way I missed her when I had no right to. The way I’d wished that, instead of just letters from my mom and daughter, I had a girl—Kalli—waiting for me to come home from war.

  Over time, though, the letters slowed, which killed me. The fact that her schoolgirl crush seemed to fade the older she got when my feelings were only intensifying was a crushing blow. Fortunately, our paths only crossed a couple of times a year, but her letters always kept me hanging on by a thread. And those few days a year when she took Lily under her wing so they could do “girl things” while she smiled up at me through long lashes always made me secretly wish for more. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud. That ship had sailed way too long ago.

  It wasn’t until earlier this year, when her twin, Kaylie, called me on it, that I actually considered that there could be something between us. For a split second, I entertained the idea that she still harbored that crush, but then I quickly shrugged it off. Even so, I’ve never forgotten her speculation that Kalli had feelings for me. Sure, she’d flirted over the years, but that’s her nature. I’ve watched her go through boyfriends the way Lily goes through pairs of shoes—as quick as possible—so I never really gave credence to Kaylie’s words about Kalli’s still having a thing for me.

  Then, a few months ago, she moved to Clarksville to be closer to Kale and his family after her nephew was born. She’s already like a surrogate aunt to Lily. The longer she’s been around, the more Lily has fallen in love with her—and the harder it’s been for me to not do the same.

  For nearly ten years, I’ve wanted Kalli, and for the past six months, she’s been within arm’s reach. Last night, I was presented with the perfect opportunity to have her, so how could I have said no? But how could I have said yes when I knew it wasn’t going to last? To say I was conflicted would be an understatement.

  And after last night, I know that one taste of Kalli will never be enough, and the longer we remain married, the more I’ll crave her.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  Like I said—no regrets.

  At least for now.

  A throat clears, and I look over to see her watching me speculatively. I take our joined hands and bring them to my lips, which I use to press a soft kiss on her skin.

  “You have no idea how much this means to me,” I tell her, and
her eyes soften, leaving me to wonder if maybe she does know.

  “Xavier, I’m with you on this. All the way,” she says, her cheeks flushing pink as the sheet slides down, revealing her naked breasts. The soft swell draws my attention. It’s sweet and supple, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. And hell, I’ve imagined.

  Instead of covering herself, she merely shrugs and shifts until she’s on top of me, pressing her chest against mine, her nipples hardening as they graze my bare skin. She wasn’t shy when we got back to the room last night, and she’s certainly not shy now. I’m thankful that we were able to bypass that awkward “did we really do this?” stage, and it makes me want her even more.

  Her lips come down to meet mine, where she gives me short kisses to emphasize each word. “All. The. Way.”

  A grin forms on my lips as my hand slides down her back to cup her pert ass and pull her closer until she can feel my growing erection. Out of nowhere, my desire increases tenfold. I’ve waited so long to be with this woman, and now, all I want do is make love to my wife.

  My wife.

  Suddenly, I need to be inside. I need her fill her, take her, show her I don’t have any regrets and I don’t think I ever will.

  Just as I’m about to reach over to pull a condom from the nightstand for round two—or is it three?—the door to my room opens and I hear Kaylie’s voice, which causes me to freeze instantly.

  “I told you,” she singsongs, sounding smug and completely amused.

  Fuck me.

  I twist and move to pull the sheet up, covering Kalli and myself. We both look towards the door, and I groan as I see Kaylie, Kale, and Lucy standing there with Knox, another one of our Army buddies, peeking out from behind them.

  “What the hell? Get out, assholes!” Kalli yells.

  Her sister’s grin just grows as she opens the door wider, revealing our current states of undress to the rest of the group. At the thought, I pull the sheet up even higher to ensure that no one gets a peek.

  “I knew something was up with you two when you disappeared last night. I have to say, it’s about fracking time,” she says, teasing her twin and giving me a knowing look. She turns to her brother and raises an eyebrow. “Did you know anything about this?”