Let Me Love You

Let Me Love You

ISBN #

Copyright © Jessica Jayne 2017

Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

Edited by Deserie Comfort at Comfort Editing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without the written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Warning: Adult reading material. This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

To all the women like me that do not conform to the rules regarding who we can or should love.

Chapter One

Ren Haynes unlatched the white vinyl gate to his neighbor’s back yard and strolled through the opening. The latch clicked closed behind him. The grass, a brownish-green and thirsty for the start of the summer rains, crunched under his step. Adrenaline coursed through him, making him edgy like he’d been before a rival-team battle on the football field. His fingertips tingled and his quadriceps twitched with the need to run. Being near Stacey Williams again did this to him. He wanted to see her, needed to—almost as essential as breathing.

An hour ago, she’d been watering the front landscape. A Bird of Paradise bush bloomed with white buds, surrounded by lavender Muhly Grass and Plumbago bushes popping with periwinkle flowers. Wearing cut-off jean shorts and a red and white striped tank top, the strings of her crimson bikini played peek-a-boo at the neck of her shirt while she’d sprayed the foliage with the hose. He assumed she planned to lounge by the pool. Fine by him. The day scorched, an unseasonably hot Saturday at the end of May. And nothing better than Stacey in a bikini. Her Marilyn Monroe centerfold pin-up body had feminine curves in all the right places.

He walked around the corner of the gray stucco ranch-style house and stopped.

Holy!

She lay on a tan and white weaved chaise lounge a few feet from the kidney-shaped in-ground pool. Sun-kissed golden skin enhanced the sensuous curves of her body. Chestnut-hair bunched in a knot on the top of her head exposed the long column of her smooth neck that beaded with perspiration from the humid Florida air. Long, dark lashes shadowed against high cheek bones, made her appear asleep.

Gentle movements rippled through her chest with each breath, drawing his attention to her tits. Her breasts filled the cups of the bikini perfectly, leaving something to the imagination. And his imagination ran wild. Blood rushed lower in her presence, settling in his groin. God, he wanted her.

During college, he’d enjoyed the ladies. But many women his age were warped by insecurities. He never understood the anxieties that plagued women. They came in all shapes and sizes—each unique and intriguing.

Stacey seemed far less insecure, perhaps because she had seven or eight years on those college girls. Comfortable in her skin, in who she was. She lay in a bikini, displaying the curve of her belly and hips. Most of the women he’d been with would cover themselves in a towel or t-shirt if their bellies were anything other than perfectly flat, embarrassed by their womanly figure.

Not Stacey.

Ren’s mother once said women didn’t come into their own until they hit thirty. Clearly, Stacey proved that to be true at thirty-one. Her confidence made her more attractive and appealing.

Jesus Christ, she yelped, bringing him out of a lust-filled haze.

Ren shook his head, trying desperately to erase the mental images of her naked, and him between her thighs. He feared his expression would give him away, but she was too consumed with grabbing the purple towel draped over the wooden Adirondack chair next to her to recognize the hunger flashing in his eyes.

You scared the shit out of me, Ren!

Sorry. He walked over. I didn’t mean to scare you. Got home from Gainesville late last night and wanted to swing by and say, hey. See how you’re doing. If you needed any help with the yard or around the house this summer.

Shut up! He sounded like a bumbling idiot. Part of the effect she had on him—that and a constant boner. He stood at the end of the chaise lounge, his form casting a shadow over her.

Even though she looked fantastic, her divorce from Randy had taken its toll. Hints of darkness hovered below her eyes. Her face appeared leaner than when he’d seen her a few months back. The sparkle in her blue eyes was slightly dimmer.

He hated seeing her hurt. Hated that her heart had been broken. But his self-seeking side was elated she was free. Free of the asshole who cheated on her and left her for another woman.

Free to be his if he had anything to say.

One day, Randy would regret how he’d treated her, but Ren planned to fill his spot before then.

The girls he’d been with were nothing more than a lay. That sounded harsh. But he’d never disrespected them. His father taught him to respect women. He had been upfront about not wanting anything serious, anything more than a physical encounter.

Stacey made him want to drop to his knees and worship the ground she walked on. She stirred things he’d never felt with another woman—a blinding lust, yes—but also a desire to protect and cherish. Warmed his otherwise distant heart.

It’s okay. She sat up in the chair. Tucking the towel around her waist, she covered her lower body as if she sat in her panties. He chuckled internally, thankful as well, because her breasts looked spectacular in her bikini top. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone standing in the yard when I opened my eyes. Why didn’t you say something?

I was going to, but then I thought you might be sleeping. You looked peaceful and I didn’t want to disturb you. Striding the few short steps to the Adirondack chair, he sat beside her.

So, instead you decided to stand and stare, waiting to scare the life out of me?

I’m sorry. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at her again. He felt like a pre-teen with his first woody and not entirely sure what to do. With other women, his confidence never waned.

I hadn’t planned on scaring you. He shrugged, then twisted his lips into a small smile.

It’s okay. My heart rate has returned to normal…I think. She smirked and placed a hand over her heart.

Ren looked around. Pink flowered ground-cover concealed the dirt around two jasmine bushes and bamboo bunched in the back corners of the yard. A tall Majestic palm rounded out the new additions.

He’d worked as her right-hand last summer and recognized the changes.

The yard looks amazing.

Thanks. She tilted her head. Her warm smile demonstrated her pleasure in noticing the changes. Went with a more ‘Florida-friendly’ landscape. She curled her fingers in air quotes. "Less maintenance. I don’t think you and I will be planting zinnia every two weeks this summer."

Though the smile sat on her lips, the emotion didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Ren clenched his jaw. Her ex-husband had been why they’d busted their asses last summer replanting flowery plants that dried out in the hot Florida summer sun despite the twice a day watering. Randy insisted on annuals—marigolds, dahlias, and zinnia—claiming they reminded him of summers in Virginia. He didn’t care how much work such a landscape would require in the Florida heat. And he’d never once offered to help them plant a thing.

Randy never deserved her.

Ren forced himself to calm. Well, it looks great!

The lines cupping her forced smile relaxed. Small fists unclenched at her sides. Little wisps of dark hair escaped the knot on her head and blew free in the gentle, warm breeze.

She appeared tiny sitting in the oversized chaise.

The desire to wrap his arms around her overwhelmed him. His muscles twitched in efforts of restraint. He wanted to reassure her everything would be okay. He was here now, ready, willing, and able to love her.

How was your last semester at UF? She switched the subject, asking about the University of Florida, voice pitched high with enthusiasm. Her blue eyes sparkled.

His gaze dropped to her luscious mouth, full and pouty, and smiling at him. He’d had multiple fantasies involving her mouth, lips, and tongue, but being this close, hoping that he had a chance to turn those fantasies into reality, roused him. His blood pumped. Beads of sweat pebbled the back of his neck. Sure, it could be the heat, but he knew better.

It was good. I did well, considering. He attempted to focus on the conversation.

She giggled, a soft bubbly song on the breeze. The sound caused his cock to stir.

Everything in him reacted to her. He didn’t want her looking at him like some sort of horny college kid with a hard-on. He wanted her to see him as a man. Not just any man, but one with a college degree—two to be exact, a career, a future—a man who could make her happy. A man she’d consider making a life with.

"You only get this chapter in your life once. Where you’re young with little responsibility. Of course, you needed to do well in school, but it is okay to have enjoyed the experience."

I enjoyed the experience. He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Maybe a little too much.

Was it the alcohol or the ladies you enjoyed too much? The edges of her mouth curved. He’d give his left nut for this woman’s smile on a regular basis.

A little of both. Sitting back, he crossed his ankle over the opposite knee. He’d always been comfortable talking to Stacey, who listened without judgment and offered great advice. Helped him through a few dramatic high school and college dating situations by giving him an outlet to vent on the expectations of girls and explaining the female perspective to him, which he still struggled to understand. But what man didn’t, right?

Good for you. But don’t tell your mom I said that. She’d kill me if she thought I had encouraged you to do anything but study. Stacey laughed, which made him laugh, too, because Mom believed his entire focus should have been hitting the books. Thank God Dad had pressured her to understand that fun could be successfully woven into the college experience.

How is your mom, by the way? Stacey brushed a few wisps of hair out of her face, some sticking to the damp skin on her neck. I saw her right after the shoulder surgery, but haven’t had a chance to chat with her in a couple of weeks.

Doing well. Following the orders of the physical therapist. Has most of her range of motion back, but still has to wear the sling for a few more weeks. He chuckled. She hates having any sort of physical restrictions.

Your mom’s active. I’m sure it’s hard to be immobilized in any way.

I’m staying with them for the next two weeks to help out. One of the dentists from Dad’s office left the practice, so he’s been working longer hours covering patients until the new one starts. Then, I’m moving in with my buddy, Tyler. You remember him? Tyler had an extra bedroom in his garage apartment. Though Ren had every intention of getting his own place, moving in with Tyler would allow him to get comfortable in the new engineering job at Rochester and Rogue, and sock some cash away.

She nodded. Is it weird being back under your parents’ roof?

Right now, it feels like spring break or something. No big deal. They’re both happy to see me. But after a few days, I’ll be ready to be back on my own. You know Mom, she’d like to have a chip embedded in me to track my every move. He laughed, but his mother’s overprotective nature smothered him. She tried to stay on top of everything he did, even though he was twenty-three. He loved her greatly, but she had the maternal knack for driving him crazy.

Stacey reached up and pulled the knot of hair on top of her head a little tighter. The movement caused her chest muscles to flex, which in turn caused her breasts to bounce, and of course, he fixated there again.

He shouldn’t be staring. He’d seen her in a bathing suit hundreds of times, but she looked beautiful and this time everything felt different. Was different.

She was single. He was about to start his career.

She cleared her throat.

Guilty, his gaze lifted to her face. A flush spread over his cheeks at being caught.

She smiled, but shook her head, admonishing him.

Sorry. He lowered his head, disappointed, stomach twisting. He wanted to make a good impression. Wanted her to take him seriously, and yet he gawked at her as if he’d never seen a set of breasts in his life. He blew out a harsh breath.

It’s okay, Ren. Her voice seemed laced with sincerity. She had to know she was a knockout and had this effect on men. She moved on with their conversation as if his traitorous eyes had never wandered below her neck. You obviously maintained your grades.

Yeah. Relieved to move past the transgression, he answered. Mom wasn’t impressed with my grades for the fall semester, considering it was my last year. I busted my ass and they improved in the spring. Football season distracted me. He shrugged. It’s hard to not participate in all the fun. Tailgating. Parties. You know. You went to Florida, too.

The corners of her mouth twitched.

Yes, I know what you’re talking about. A reminiscent look softened her features. "But I wasn’t getting engineering and business degrees."

Don’t downplay what you do, Stace. Even though Ren wouldn’t consider himself a reader of romance, he did read Stacey’s novels. The sex scenes enthralled him. He hadn’t realized reading a sexual encounter between characters could send his libido into overdrive, but his interest in her writing went deeper. Her work fascinated him—how she came up with story ideas and developed her characters. A lot went