Destry
Page 1
XOXO
DISCLAIMER
Destry is not as funny as my other books. While there are some hot steamy scenes, it's more a contemporary romance than humorous erotica. In my eyes at least. I will let y'all be the judge of that regardless. Just please keep an open mind when going in... you may giggle a time or two, but it's definitely not the same category.
I've written this book at a time in my life when I was looking for something short, sweet and light. So that's what Destry is. I do hope you enjoy him.
XOXOXO
Pulling my car up into the drive of my perfect yard, with my perfectly straight flowerbeds and perfectly manicured grass, I parked my car and made my way inside my equally perfect house. Slipping my heels off at the door, I scooped them up as I made my way up the stairs. I needed a long soak in a bubble bath, with maybe a scented candle or two, and perhaps a glass of wine, or three. I could then relax and contemplate my apparently, perfect life.
I’d gotten off work early, and rather than stopping to do the grocery shopping like I should have, I’d come home to freshen up. Maybe I’d be lucky and get in some alone time before I had to play my part.
Just two more months and I’d officially be Mrs. Wesley Longstone. Wife to an extremely successful advertising agent. Our relationship was a complex one. We’d been together for around two years. And over the last two years, I was doing what was expected of me, rather than what was making me happy.
I had to learn to love Wesley. He wasn’t at all the type I would have chosen for myself. How it worked in our family was the daughters were supposed to marry somebody with equal breeding, equal intellect and equal money.
Love had nothing to do with it.
Highstone women married for social standing.
Tragic, huh?
It was just the way it was. Taking it all in my stride, we had reached a point where we were happy and content. I would continue to play my part and would learn to love him.
Dragging my tired feet down the plush beige carpet, I pushed open my bedroom door. My eyes took a second to adjust to the low light and quickly registered the scene playing out in front of me.
In slow motion, my heels dropped from my hand to the floor with a loud clap; I stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away. There, on my one-thousand count white Egyptian sheets, was my fiancé going to town on a busty brunette.
She was bent over, holding onto my mahogany headboard while he rammed into her from behind making growling and grunting sounds. He was also pulling her pigtailed hair.
Admittedly, my first thought was, “What the hell is he wearing?” Instead, I gasped, “Nikki!”
They visibly jerked at the sound of my voice. Wesley spun around so quickly, he almost tumbled off the bed. My stomach recoiled, bile rising in my throat. Swallowing hard, I choked it down and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not a peep.
Wesley stood up from the bed, sweating and panting, wearing a cowboy hat and a pair of leather chaps.
Nothing else. I didn’t know if I should laugh, yell or cry at that point; the entire situation was ridiculous.
He started toward me with his hands out in a placating gesture. Talking so quickly, his sentences jumbled together, becoming one rush of exhaled words. He continued to inch toward me. “Now, precious, it’s not what you think. I swear it. I just… well, it was just… she… she means nothing to me. It was an accident.”
I looked from Wesley, in his ridiculous little costume, to Nikki, my sister, and back again. I couldn’t seem to get my body to cooperate with my mind, which had other things to think about.
An accident?
A fucking accident?
“Are you kidding me?” I took a breath to calm myself but hissed out, “Are you freakin’ kidding me! You’re—you—” I choked back the urge to vomit and punch him in the face. My throat constricted and the bridge of my nose tingled, but there was no way I would give them the satisfaction of seeing me anything other than angry.
I looked to my sister. We’d never been close, but this was low down and dirty period. “I should have known he was as slimy as a barrel of snakes, but you? I never thought you would, Nikki. Really? Why?” She quickly threw her clothes back on, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Please, don’t let me stop y’all. You clearly deserve each other. Have at it,” I said, waving my hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Turning, I walked mechanically back downstairs, snagging my purse and keys from the hall table and out the door to my car.
“Amelia! Wait! Please! Let me explain. Amelia!” Wesley yelled out behind me.
I made it to the door of my car before a hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around and came face-to-face with Nikki, looking not nearly as remorseful as she should be. I hissed through clenched teeth, “Get your goddamn hand off me, before I break it.”
I shifted so her hand slipped off and fell to her side. She just had to open her now pouting mouth. “Look this sort of thing happens, all right? It happens all the time. You don’t need to throw a fit, Amelia. Just move on. It’s easy.”
Is she shittin’ me?
I looked her up and down, noticing her flushed face, crumpled dress, her smeared whore-red lipstick and hair tied in loose and messy pigtails. She looked just that. A complete mess. My sister had never had the greatest of morals, but this was a new level of depravity even for her trashy ass.
Without another word, I reared my hand back and planted my fist, fast and hard, on the very tip of her precious nose. The satisfying crunch I heard and clear break under my knuckles made me a little too happy.
DISCLAIMER
Destry is not as funny as my other books. While there are some hot steamy scenes, it's more a contemporary romance than humorous erotica. In my eyes at least. I will let y'all be the judge of that regardless. Just please keep an open mind when going in... you may giggle a time or two, but it's definitely not the same category.
I've written this book at a time in my life when I was looking for something short, sweet and light. So that's what Destry is. I do hope you enjoy him.
XOXOXO
Pulling my car up into the drive of my perfect yard, with my perfectly straight flowerbeds and perfectly manicured grass, I parked my car and made my way inside my equally perfect house. Slipping my heels off at the door, I scooped them up as I made my way up the stairs. I needed a long soak in a bubble bath, with maybe a scented candle or two, and perhaps a glass of wine, or three. I could then relax and contemplate my apparently, perfect life.
I’d gotten off work early, and rather than stopping to do the grocery shopping like I should have, I’d come home to freshen up. Maybe I’d be lucky and get in some alone time before I had to play my part.
Just two more months and I’d officially be Mrs. Wesley Longstone. Wife to an extremely successful advertising agent. Our relationship was a complex one. We’d been together for around two years. And over the last two years, I was doing what was expected of me, rather than what was making me happy.
I had to learn to love Wesley. He wasn’t at all the type I would have chosen for myself. How it worked in our family was the daughters were supposed to marry somebody with equal breeding, equal intellect and equal money.
Love had nothing to do with it.
Highstone women married for social standing.
Tragic, huh?
It was just the way it was. Taking it all in my stride, we had reached a point where we were happy and content. I would continue to play my part and would learn to love him.
Dragging my tired feet down the plush beige carpet, I pushed open my bedroom door. My eyes took a second to adjust to the low light and quickly registered the scene playing out in front of me.
In slow motion, my heels dropped from my hand to the floor with a loud clap; I stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away. There, on my one-thousand count white Egyptian sheets, was my fiancé going to town on a busty brunette.
She was bent over, holding onto my mahogany headboard while he rammed into her from behind making growling and grunting sounds. He was also pulling her pigtailed hair.
Admittedly, my first thought was, “What the hell is he wearing?” Instead, I gasped, “Nikki!”
They visibly jerked at the sound of my voice. Wesley spun around so quickly, he almost tumbled off the bed. My stomach recoiled, bile rising in my throat. Swallowing hard, I choked it down and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not a peep.
Wesley stood up from the bed, sweating and panting, wearing a cowboy hat and a pair of leather chaps.
Nothing else. I didn’t know if I should laugh, yell or cry at that point; the entire situation was ridiculous.
He started toward me with his hands out in a placating gesture. Talking so quickly, his sentences jumbled together, becoming one rush of exhaled words. He continued to inch toward me. “Now, precious, it’s not what you think. I swear it. I just… well, it was just… she… she means nothing to me. It was an accident.”
I looked from Wesley, in his ridiculous little costume, to Nikki, my sister, and back again. I couldn’t seem to get my body to cooperate with my mind, which had other things to think about.
An accident?
A fucking accident?
“Are you kidding me?” I took a breath to calm myself but hissed out, “Are you freakin’ kidding me! You’re—you—” I choked back the urge to vomit and punch him in the face. My throat constricted and the bridge of my nose tingled, but there was no way I would give them the satisfaction of seeing me anything other than angry.
I looked to my sister. We’d never been close, but this was low down and dirty period. “I should have known he was as slimy as a barrel of snakes, but you? I never thought you would, Nikki. Really? Why?” She quickly threw her clothes back on, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Please, don’t let me stop y’all. You clearly deserve each other. Have at it,” I said, waving my hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Turning, I walked mechanically back downstairs, snagging my purse and keys from the hall table and out the door to my car.
“Amelia! Wait! Please! Let me explain. Amelia!” Wesley yelled out behind me.
I made it to the door of my car before a hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around and came face-to-face with Nikki, looking not nearly as remorseful as she should be. I hissed through clenched teeth, “Get your goddamn hand off me, before I break it.”
I shifted so her hand slipped off and fell to her side. She just had to open her now pouting mouth. “Look this sort of thing happens, all right? It happens all the time. You don’t need to throw a fit, Amelia. Just move on. It’s easy.”
Is she shittin’ me?
I looked her up and down, noticing her flushed face, crumpled dress, her smeared whore-red lipstick and hair tied in loose and messy pigtails. She looked just that. A complete mess. My sister had never had the greatest of morals, but this was a new level of depravity even for her trashy ass.
Without another word, I reared my hand back and planted my fist, fast and hard, on the very tip of her precious nose. The satisfying crunch I heard and clear break under my knuckles made me a little too happy.
