Hopelessly Devoted by A.M. Myers
BLURB:
You think you know pain?
You don't.
I've lived in it for years, pulled so far down into the darkness that it's all I see. There was no telling where I ended and the darkness began. It swallowed me up whole and spit out a man that I didn't recognize. I can promise you, you've never felt pain like that. It was eternal night and there was no chance that I would ever make it out alive.
Then there was her - Alison James. She's a spark of brilliant light in the bleak nothingness, a tiny beacon of hope in my endless torment and I can't do anything but cling to her, hoping for just another second of relief. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her but some things are out of my hands.
My past is coming back to haunt us and at the very least, it will tear us apart. But if worse comes to worst, she'll be just as dead as my soul.
Can I force myself to let her go if it will save her? Or will I sacrifice her life for my own selfishness?
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SNIPPETS:
I f*cking hate hospitals.
My boots squeak on the linoleum floors as I stare down the hallway and make my way to her room, doing my best to push back the deluge of memories frantically trying to take over my mind. After that night, I swore I would never be back here but for her, I would do just about anything. Everything about this place haunts me from the sound of monitors beeping and loved ones crying to the smell of antiseptic. Each little thing like a demon hiding in the shadows, laying in wait to reach out and pull me back into that night and everything I lost.
The memories start to overwhelm me and I have to stop, leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes as I try to pull air into my body. Flashes of images like a horror movie roll through my brain and I lean over, squeezing my eyes shut tighter like that might make them stop as I fist my hands on my knees.
******************************
“Where am I going to find that first aid kit?”
I point to the cupboard directly behind him. “Second shelf.”
He grabs it and turns back to me, setting the kit on the counter next to me on one side before looking over at the sink on the other side. Without a word, he kneels in front of me and slips my shoe off my foot. I can’t look away, curious and turned on as I wonder what the hell he’s doing. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife, flipping it open with ease and I suck in breath. If I were smart, I would be terrified right now. I would start screaming for help or kick my foot out and hope it catches him in the face so I can get away but he’s rendered me completely f*cking stupid.
No, instead I sit my ass on the counter and watch as he pulls my tights away from my leg and cuts them open all the way up, my skin sparking with the intense desire blanketing us. When he gets above my knee where the tights disappear under my skirt, I put my hand out to stop him and he pulls the knife away
“They’re thigh highs,” I mutter as I pull my skirt up slightly and pull the stocking off. I dangle it out in front of him but his gaze is glued to my bare leg. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips and my eyes almost roll back in my head. Jesus, I think I could cum just from watching him watch me. I clear my throat and he looks up at me.
“Care to tell me why you murdered my tights?”
******************************
“What are you doing?”
“Well, we said later,” he explains, shrugging like it should be obvious.
I nod. “Yes, we did.”
His eyes dance with humor and something more and as he looks down at me, the temperature in the room cranks up a few degrees. “And as far as I can tell, it’s technically later.”
“Technically.”
He takes another step towards me but this time I don’t move so we’re only a whisper away from touching. My breathing quickens as I meet his eyes and my lips part. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”
“About what I’m doing here?” he asks, his voice lower and huskier than just moments before.
I lick my lips and nod. “Yes.”
His gaze darts to my mouth, so intense that I can feel it rocking through my body. He looks at me like he wants to devour me and I have absolutely no objections to that. Everything about him seems intense from the heartache in his gray gaze to the “don’t mess with me” aura around him and I can’t help but imagine how incredibly good it would feel if he focused that intensity on my body. Just the mental image is enough to force a shiver down my spine.
“I really want to kiss you,” he whispers, moving a fraction of an inch closer like he can’t stop himself.
“I’m okay with that.”
A.M. Myers currently lives in beautiful Charleston, South Carolina with her husband and their two children. She has been writing since the moment she learned how to and even had a poem published in the sixth grade but the idea of writing an entire book always seemed like a daunting task until this story got stuck in her head and just wouldn't leave her alone. And now, she can't imagine ever stopping. A.M. writes gripping romantic suspense novels that will have you on the edge of your seat until the end. When she's not writing, you can find her hanging out with her kids or pursuing other artistic ventures, such as photography or painting.
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