WICKED BEGINNINGS by L A Cotton Blog Tour!
Wicked Beginnings (Wicked Bay #1)
BY L A COTTON
The first book in a brand new YA/NA crossover series from the author who brought you Chastity Falls
Lo thought moving to Wicked Bay was the worst of her problems, but as life begins to unravel around her, she’s going to find out it’s only the beginning…
*** BONUS SCENE ***
“Oh my God.” Lo’s face paled
as her eyes swept over my bloody and bruised face. I knew I looked a mess,
hell, I felt it. Pain radiated through me. Burned in my bones. “What did you
do?” Her bottom lip quivered.
“You should see
the other guy.” I forced a smirk. Now I was standing here, I wasn’t sure what
the fuck to do … or say. I left the warehouse and drove straight home. But
before I could stop myself, I was outside the pool house.
“Maverick.”
Christ, my name on
her lips was like salve to every tender spot—and there was a lot. But I
could see the hesitation in her eyes. The confusion. And I didn’t blame her.
I’d barely looked at her since we kissed, let alone talk to her.
My eyes flickered
past her, to the pile of cardboard propped by the door. “When do you leave?”
The words stuck in my throat and Lo shrugged, her gaze still fixed on my face.
“Dad thinks it'll
be the end of next week.”
A week and she’d
be gone.
Why did the idea
hurt so fucking much?
“You should let me
look at that.” She motioned to my face, and I moved inside and perched on one
of the stools, my body crashing fast.
It was always the
same. After a fight, I felt high on the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
But it never last long.
She gave me a
small nod and disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the pool house. When
Lo returned, she froze, the small first aid kit clutched in her hands. But that
wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the thin t-shirt covering her body,
barely hiding long toned legs. I hadn’t noticed before, too surprised that she
opened the door. But now I noticed.
And now I
couldn’t. Stop. Staring.
Fuck, she was
something else.
I’d tried to
ignore her. Tried real fucking hard. But she was everywhere. In the hallway at
school. In the house. Across the yard.
When I realized
she wasn’t going to move, I said, “Got any pain meds in there?”
Lo nodded,
retrieving some tablets she handed me a glass of water. Our fingers brushed and
a bolt of lightning shot through my chest. What the fuck was that? My eyes
widened, focused on where our hands joined, then slowly I lifted my face to hers.
Did she feel it
too?
The pull?
The flow of energy
between us?
It was like no
matter how hard I tried to stay away, external forces were determined to push
us back together.
“Thank you,” I
said breaking the awkward-as-shit silence, and Lo blinked with a tiny shake of
her head,
“This will
probably sting.” She pulled a couple of wipes free and moved closer.
“I've felt worse.”
Steadying herself,
hand on my shoulder, Lo studied my face and then started cleaning the cuts.
Slow and steady, pressed close to me. I could feel her. Every touch. Every
breath. The pain was still there but so was something else. Something I hadn’t
felt since that night on the beach.
“Fuck,” I hissed as
she moved over my cheekbone. The guy I fought tonight had got in a good
couple of right hooks. But I welcomed the pain. It dulled out all the other
shit.
“Sorry,” she
whispered, easing off the pressure. “Why, Maverick? Why do you do this to
yourself?”
My spine went
rigid. “Don't.”
“This one probably
needs stitches.” Lo changed the subject and I relaxed a fraction, adding, “No
doctors, I'll live.”
“Maverick...”
Without thinking,
I smoothed my hand over the curve of her hip and around her waist, dragging Lo
between my knees. But she pressed her hand against my shoulder. “Stop.”
I pulled back
slightly forcing her to look at me. Questioning her with my eyes. Didn’t she
realize I needed this—needed her?
“What are you
doing, Maverick?”
“Don't you ever
just want to forget?” I’d asked her the same thing that night last summer. Did
she remember? Did she think about that night as much as I did?
She stared at me,
wide-eyed and lips parted slightly, as if she couldn’t understand.
“Lo,” it came out
barely a whisper. I sounded like a pussy. But I was tired. So fucking tired. Of
pretending. Of trying to ignore her. Of all the bullshit with my father. I just
wanted one night of freedom. One night where I could breathe.
Lo ignored me,
continuing to clean my face. When the last band aid was applied, her fingers
lingered over my eyebrow and then she was pulling away, letting cool air
replace her warmth. But I caught her wrist. “Look at me, London.”
“I should—”
“You should what?”
“Go, I should go.”
She tried to move but
I tugged her closer, opening my legs wider until she was nestled between them.
“Maverick, stop.”
I raised an
eyebrow, studying her. She said one thing, but the flush of her cheeks, the
quickened rise and fall of her chest suggested another. I leaned in closer, my
mouth ghosting over her shoulder. “You're saying one thing, but your body is
saying another.” My fingers slid to the hem of her t-shirt and I twisted the
material dragging her closer, brushing my knuckles over her thighs.
Lo’s breath
faltered but she managed to stutter, “What about Caitlin?”
“She's no one to
me,” I ground out, annoyed she’d brought her up. This was our moment. One
perfect untainted moment. It was more than I deserved but I was selfish bastard
and I wanted it.
All of it. Every
undeserved second.
“And I am?” Her
voice was small.
“You know you
are.” My lips hovered on her neck. I wanted nothing more than to suck the skin
there. To taste her, properly.
“But?”
“But we can't be
together.”
Lo’s whole
demeaner changed. She nodded stiffly, yanking free of my hold, but I was
stronger. My arms looped around her waist drawing me back in. And then I was
kissing her.
She must have felt
the shift the second our lips met because her hands slid around my shoulders
and she clung onto me like I was her air.
“I've wanted you
since that first day in the kitchen,” I murmured into her mouth.
“Oh God,” she breathed
out as my hand skimmed down her legs, trailing around to the apex of her bare
thighs, dancing over the thin cotton material. Her body tensed as if she was
having second thoughts. But nothing about this was wrong. It was too easy. Too
fucking perfect.
“Stop thinking,
London.” I traced a path down her jaw and neck. Biting. Sucking. Teasing. While
my thumb rubbed lazy circles over her warm center and my dick strained against
my sweat pants. “One night. Give me one night.”
I wanted so much
more but she couldn’t know that. She could never know that. And I didn’t want
to think about tomorrow or the day after or next year. I just wanted this.
Here. Now.
Lo clung tighter,
and I responded. In one swift movement, I slid off the stool and picked her up,
crushing our bodies together. Eyes locked on hers, I walked us into the
bedroom.
This was
happening.
And I was going to
imprint every kiss, every touch, every moan to memory. Because whether she
realized it or not, Lo made things easier. Just being in the same room as her,
calmed me. I couldn’t explain it and I didn’t understand it but we were
connected. And if this was all I could have with her, I intended on making the
most of it.
Consequences be
damned.
START THE SERIES...
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author of mature young adult and new adult novels, L A is happiest writing the kind of books she loves to read: addictive stories full of teenage angst, tension, twists and turns.
Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time writer with being a mother/referee to two little people. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life.
Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time writer with being a mother/referee to two little people. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life.
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