Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book #8)
Addison Moore
Prologue
Cassidy
They say that every person on the planet has a thorn in their side, something that can make even the meekest human wail until their throat bleeds raw. My thorn just so happens to be an auburn evening sky. It’s what I remember most about that awful day. I was hardly six the night my mother ran into the bathroom with convulsive sobs while my father jumped into his beat-up Thunderbird and peeled out of the driveway.
My father wasn’t perfect, but, at that tender age, he was close to a living god— tall, manly, holding an undeniable air of authority that at the time I was unaware of the fact it came from the bottom of a bottle. I remember very few details that followed as I chased him down the street, his roaring words—they would be the last I would hear from him—fly away home, little girl. I can smell the smoke from his tires dusting up the blood red sky, taste the salt of my tears as I screamed out after him. Soon, his Thunderbird had dissolved into the murky night, and for as long as I live, I will never forget the stillness of that moment—how alarmingly lonely this world had suddenly become. But then, the dirt thumped around me, the wind shook with fury, inviting me to a new terror. An entire herd of growls grew in ferocity like a hellish choir ready to greet me. I turned my head and saw them for less than a blink of a moment—first the neighbor’s dog, then behind him a demonic pack of beasts bounding on his heels, all of them accelerating toward me at an alarming pace. Their salivating mouths dripped with savagery. I was a feast for the taking, a mere morsel in their hungry eyes. Suddenly, I was nothing anyone wanted, so very alone in this dangerous world. I wish I could say I felt fear in that moment, but, in truth, I was still basking in the rejection doled out by my father. I had already surrendered my weary soul before they took their first bite. Then, the world fell to black, and I’ve spent the rest of my life reliving the pain both physical and emotional. And now when strangers on the street look in horror at what’s left of me—I feel the sting of my father’s rejection all over again. Death could have easily taken me that day, but that would have been too easy. Instead, here I am, living a life of irony, dying a thousand deaths and counting.
But not tonight. Tonight I lie with a sculpted deity by my side—both his last name and features strike a startling resemblance to that of my best friend, as they should. He’s her brother.
Cade James’s effigy is what the Italian sculptors long to carve into marble. Cade deserves to be venerated based on his physical perfection alone. The idea that this god would ever want me for anything aside from some quick and dirty fun is laughable. But here we are, together, just one breath away without a single stitch of clothing between us. Something quick and dirty, something beautiful is about to happen, and I’ll be the last to stop it.
The Seduction
Cassidy
According to my sister, there are two types of women in this world: those who choose to devour and those who get devoured—lucky for the men of this world, she’s both.
I examine her a moment, mostly for traces of sanity since I’m more than familiar with her features, seeing that we’re identical twins, albeit she wears her scars on the inside, where I have them out in the open for all to see, gawk at, judge—taking up precious real estate on the left side of my face. I may as well have a line drawn down the center of my body, my right half unadulterated, unblemished, dare I say, beautiful. The left side—an entire road map of anger and despair, chewed up and spit out, unwanted, twisted vines of pain creating unnatural ridges and divots from the corner of my lip clear up to my brow. I missed losing an eye by a single millimeter. My grandmother says fate was looking after me that day, but I like to say it forgot me altogether. My features alone can attest to that.