Forgotten Yesterday

***Author Bio:

Renee loves to wear of hoodies, is fluent in Yoda speak, and likes to make videos with Lego figures. She is a long time insomniac, but doesn’t have the energy to start an underground Fight Club so she settles for writing stories about the characters who plague her mind. She grew up in the Midwest and currently resides in the Boston area, but sounds nothing like Ben Affleck or Matt Damon.

***Author Social Media links:
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http://reneeericson.wordpress.com

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Excerpts

 

Choice #1

 

Spinning around to pick up the last dish, my hand is caught in someone’s grasp.

“Excuse me?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I trace the arm of the person holding my wrist, meeting with a set of anxious, piercing, green-grey eyes.

“Ruby?”

My heart jumps into my throat—pulsing, beating and pounding into every forgotten crevice of my consciousness. Loudly pulling out stored away memories. His grip tightens…

 

~Past~

 

His hand slowly, languidly, and with precision, made its way up my arm to my naked shoulder. Lifting my chin, his lips seared my neck with their delectable heat, making my knees weaken.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his breath skating its way up my throat. His wicked tongue licked the sensitive space behind my ear and everything around me ceased to exist.

“Oh god,” I gasped.

His agile fingers floated up my side, caressing my bare breast, while the other hand tangled into my damp hair. I let the towel fall completely to the floor and pressed my body against his. Skin on skin. Baring it all.

He pushed me gently and I fell onto the bed when the back of my knees hit the edge. I scooted myself further up the mattress as he made his way on top of me. The feel of his naked form all over mine, made the space between my legs open…waiting…wanting.

 

~Present~

 

“Ruby,” he says again, hand softening around my wrist. “Wow. I had no idea you were back in Chicago.”

“Brent.” His name on my lips feels like a familiar lullaby. “Hi. Yeah. For a while now.”

Pulling out of his grasp, I go back to the tray and pick up the final plate. With a shaky hand, I set it in front of the last seating and then grab the empty tray and stand.

“Is there anything else I can get for you gentlemen?” I ask, looking at everyone but my past. What would I even say to him?

“No, I think we’re good,” the blond replies with a thick accent, oblivious to the tension.

“Well, enjoy your meals.”

Quickly maneuvering around the white linen tables and their occupants, I rush to the kitchen, place the tray in the pile with the others and make my way down the side hallway to the cooler. Spreading apart the plastic strips designed to keep in the cool air, I march to the back without any thought other than—calm the fuck down. My hands grip the metal shelving piled with fresh tomatoes and lettuce. Shutting my lids, closing myself off as much as possible, I inhale the cool air from the room.

“Ruby?” Astrid calls.

“Yea-ah?”

“Is everything okay?” she asks, entering the cooler. “I saw you come back. Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I just need a second. Can you check on my tables for me?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She waits, unmoving. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep.” I take in one last inhale. My hands release the bar, falling to my sides as I face her. “I’m good. Just got a little overheated is all.”

“All right. I’ll get your tables started for you,” she says, stepping backwards toward the door. “See you in a few.”

“Yep. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She leaves and I bring my fingertips to my forehead. Shutting my eyes and sealing off the rest of the world, the man at the table calls my attention behind my closed lids. His green-grey eyes—the very ones that speak volumes over any word ever spoken in the history of my life—stare back at me. I never expected to see them ever again, but there they were, connecting us without my permission.

 

Choice #2

 

“Brent,” I gasped, as his hand threaded through my hair at the base of my neck. “What are you doing?”

“I think it’s obvious.” His other hand unbuttoned my jacket. He reached into its interior and rested his grip on the curve of my hip as he continued to kiss me. “I’m coming in for my birthday present.”

“Didn’t…you…like,” I heaved between each kiss. “The Bears tickets?”

“Yes.” His mouthed moved to my neck. “But I’m not thinking about football right now.”

The elevator dinged when we reached our floor and the doors opened.

To liven the chase, I skittered out into the hallway and down to our room. He followed close behind me, grabbing my ass and playing with the hem of my dress the entire way.

“Do you think you could wait until we get inside?” I teased, slapping his hand away.

When we reached the room, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest as he leaned his back against the door in the hall. I could literally feel how excited he was when he pressed against me.

His teeth nibbled at the sensitive area along my throat, sending a tremor through my entire body. I pressed my breasts against him, while threading my fingers through his thick hair. Brent continued to drag his mouth down my neck, past my collarbone, plunging toward my cleavage.

“Don’t…you think,” I said breathlessly. “That…we should…go in?”

“Probably,” he resigned, as his lips caressed the skin from my neck to my jaw. “But I’m too busy to find the key.”

“Brent,” I panted.

“Ruby.”

“Get the damn key.” My fingers tightly gripped his hair.

“You get it,” he challenged.

Keeping one hand at the base of his neck, I moved the other down his chest, along his tight abs, over his belt buckle, and grabbed the erection pressing against his pants.

“Ruby,” he growled, thrusting himself into my hand. “That’s not the key.”

“It’s the key to something.”

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