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Trauma, isolation, courage, love. . . Anxious Love
Hopeful about his future after overcoming loss, Ryan Ware is living his dream life as a first round draft pick. He’s enjoying every crazy minute of fame, fortune, and gorgeous women.
Despite being the most sought-after writer in romance, severe anxiety keeps Leah Jones isolated. Having a regimented life keeps the triggers at bay that could put her back in the hospital, perhaps permanently.
A chance meeting in New Orleans, Leah’s brown eyes capture Ryan’s heart, and he vows to learn more about this reclusive beauty.
Can Leah’s anxieties withstand Ryan’s crazy life? Can Ryan learn enough about real love to be the right man for Leah?
Anxious Love contains explicit scenes of a sexual nature and is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age.
“You’re close,” he whispered. “I can feel it.”
“Wait for me,” he said, his breath throaty and ragged from the strain.
“I can’t,” I said, clenching my insides, which further pushed me closer to the edge.
“Look at me.” I focused on his face. I took note of the small tick in his eyes as he moved faster. The way his breath warmed my face as he pounded in me. I zoned in on the feel of his cock inside me, the tightness he pushed through to reach my core. When he tensed, I saw it on his face and felt it in his body. His hand cupped my pussy from underneath and he ran his fingers over my clit. Our orgasm hit at the same time in a mind-altering quake of mind, body, and soul.
As we came down, we held on to each other tight as if the quake would dare attempt to tear us apart. No, we were together. Melded, tethered, bound together by need, desire, and lust.
Maybe by love.
We were made for each other.
Because of my anxiety, I perceived the world differently. The medicine helped, but when it wore off, it wasn’t like Cinderella’s carriage turning back into a pumpkin at precisely midnight.
It was more subtle, more gradual. It was a whole different way of reacting to the world, and it took a little more concentration. Something I couldn’t do with him studying me.
But then he rubbed his hand up my arm and he licked his lips and leaned into me and the world slowed down.
“Hey, you okay?”
I concentrated on his voice but couldn’t stop staring at his lips. I tried to pull my gaze away from them, from him, but I couldn’t. His facial expressions made me feel adored, and I didn’t want to miss a thing.
I leaned in further to get a better look, but my eyes closed and the next thing I knew, his lips touched mine. I pulled back a little and opened my eyes. The world caught up to whatever dimension we were in. It was much too abrupt for the moment, and I felt on the verge of a panic attack, but then I thought, maybe …
I closed my eyes, leaned in, and kissed him again. My lips parted and I licked them, but my tongue rubbed against his lips and retreated. We were so close. His lips shifted into a grin, and I parted my lips in surprise. He reached his hand behind my neck and pulled me closer as his tongue entered between mine.
A muffled giggled escaped, and I was surprised to find it came from me. It disappeared into his mouth, which made him grin and pull back. The world stayed calm as I thought about how his lips felt on mine. His tongue swiped against my tongue with confidence. I opened my eyes and peered into his. They were no longer light; they had a definite dark hue and the color swarmed as if wondering how to take in the person they saw before them.
Is it possible that I found something else to balance me?
I leaned back, but as his hand slipped away from my cheek, I placed my hand on it to keep him firmly in place. I looked off to my right and the streetcar clinked by and people were strolling down St. Charles Avenue. I turned to my left and watched a group of kids cut across the park on their way home from school.
I turned back to Ryan and smiled. He smiled back, and to thank him, I kissed him.
I removed my hand from his, satisfied it would stay where I wanted it. My hand reached out to touch his chest. I wanted to confirm it was as solid as I imagined. My brief hug a few nights before had only hinted at it.
I touched his skin peeking out the top of his t-shirt and ran my knuckle across the top. It was his turn to shiver, but it deepened the kiss as his tongue pressed into my mouth. I flatted my head on his chest and pressed back; he was solid, unmovable. He laid a soft little kiss on my mouth before pulling back and looking down at my hand splayed across his chest.
His face tilted and he stared with a sexy grin.
“Did you just kiss me?” he asked in a whispered tone.
I peeked a look and saw the concerned look on her face.
“Hey, little one.” I ran my hand over the crease in her brow. “You okay?”
“I haven’t done this in a long time, and I really want to, but . . .” She continued to stroke me, and I grabbed her hand and placed it on her stomach and sat up on my knees.
“Please don’t laugh at me, but is it going to fit?”
Okay, I had to laugh.
I reached down and rubbed myself against her folds, coating it with her juices. She moaned and squealed. I pressed two fingers inside her and she pushed back onto them.
She squeezed herself on my fingers. “See, there’s plenty of room.” She groaned as I rubbed her clit and continued to move my fingers in and out. We both knew I was lying, but I wanted to make her feel better. It was going to be tight. I bit my lip in anticipation. She convulsed against my fingers and threw her head back as she came.
I smiled. It was going to feel so good.
“Okay, wait. Stop,” I said and reached out for his hand. He laced his fingers with mine.
“You okay?” Ryan asked a look of concerned torture on his face. He held back to make me comfortable.
“Yeah, um,” I began but stopped and tried to figure out the best way to put this. “You are so perfect. I just need to get used to it.”
“Oh, ow.” I scooted away from him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Okay, good point.” He pressed back into me and stopped. I couldn’t speak. I only
hummed. I flexed around him, and his cock twitched. I moaned. “Okay, move. Slowly.”
He moved inside me. My mind raced. It felt so good and hurt at the same time.
“Keep doing that, please.”
“Why so formal, little one?” he asked and pushed in me farther.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered.
“That’s more like it.” He grinned.
Meet The Author…
Sydney Aaliyah Michelle is a Contemporary Romance writer, a voracious reader and movie fanatic who hails from Texas.
After surviving 5 1/2 years living in China, she had the courage to finally pursue her passion and become a writer.
Sydney’s novels tackle the dramatic world that is college and professional football She writes about heroines who love their men and the sports world they play in.
She identifies the sci-fi action flick “The Matrix” as the best representation of her life in the past. She is now blessed to be awake and doing what she loves.
She can recite the entire script from the 80’s teen comedy/drama “The Breakfast Club” and loves any and everything associated with the Avengers Movie, especially Tony Stark.
When it come to books, Sydney reads different genres, but some of her favorite writers are Stephen King, Alex J. Cavanaugh, J.A Huss, M. Never & Emily Bronte. Under the Dome, The Great Gatsby & Wuthering Heights are her favorite books.
Feel free to contact Sydney Aaliyah Michelle at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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