Give in to Me Read online

  Give in to Me

  by

  Sidda Lee Tate

  Give in to Me

  Copyright © 2013, Sidda Lee Tate

  ISBN: 9781937325893

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: September, 2013

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  The attraction between Jennica and Scott is undeniable, but will her past show up to ruin it all?

  After years of being gone, Scott Sims has returned to his hometown. Life is good. He likes his new job, has reconnected with his sister, and even met a “friend with benefits” at the local bar. He does his best to ignore the flurry of rumors—none of them true—about where he’s been and who he’s become.

  Jennica Moss’s last relationship ended badly, leaving her guarded and untrusting. She’s new in town, but the local gossips have kept her informed about almost everything. The latest hot topic—Scott Sims, the area’s most promising star, the guy who threw his football career away and disappeared for years.

  When Scott and Jennica meet, emotions run high. Scott can’t resist the urge to get to know her. But Jennica’s past threatens to come between them, and Scott can’t seem to shake his present. When he broke things off with his last fling, she didn’t take it well, and she keeps showing up at the most inopportune moments, making his time with Jennica strained.

  Now one, or both, of their lives may be at risk, and Jennica must face the consequences of giving in to her heart and falling in love with Scott.

  Content Warning: strong language and graphic sex

  Dedication

  For Mom

  Acknowledgements

  I can’t express enough my gratitude to Beachwalk Press for once again taking one of my stories and making it possible for the world to read. Pamela Tyner, what would I do without you? Your editing skills blow me away.

  Fantasia Frog Designs, you nail the cover every time. Thank you.

  To my husband, son, and all of my family—thanks so much for your support. It means the world to me.

  A special thanks to those of you who continually ask when my next story will be finished (you know who you are) and to all of my readers out there…you rock!

  Chapter 1

  Scott Sims rolled over and stared at the blurry numbers on the alarm clock, blinking at the red digits. Almost 7 AM on Saturday and he’d slept all of three hours. The lack of sleep wouldn’t be a concern if he didn’t have to get up for work. He groaned, flopping back under the comforter. Fifteen more minutes and he would be good to go.

  Maybe.

  His head throbbed, and he tugged the blanket over his face. Damn sun. The thin curtains didn’t do much to block the blinding rays. The thought crossed his mind to look into getting blinds…yeah, blinds and blackout curtains, small luxuries now affordable since working for Kyle Phillips. Luck was all it had been when he landed the job. He just happened to show up when no one else did, and now his salary was more than it had ever been in his life.

  He ran over a mental list of things he needed to do at the ranch, knowing the day would be a long one if he didn’t find a cure for the headache pounding against his skull. “Ugh…too much whiskey,” he mumbled, pressing his palms to his eyes.

  As he rolled over in the bed, a warm hand, soft and feminine, ran up his side and across his chest. He stilled at the touch, having forgotten about her.

  Melissa never stayed more than twenty minutes past orgasm. Ever.

  They’d met at Night, a small bar in town, about a month ago and hooked up a handful of times since. Aside from occasional sex, they didn’t socialize. He’d noticed her at the gas station last week and she acted as if she’d never seen him before. He decided right then to be finished with her, being fuck-buddies was one thing, disregarding him the day after he’d screwed the hell out of her was another.

  He didn’t expect to get drunk last night, and he didn’t count on her jumping in his cab and putting his dick in her mouth before the vehicle cleared the parking lot. But it happened. And now she lay in his bed sleeping with her hand on his chest when he needed to get up and head to the farm.

  Scott moved out from under her hand as gentle as possible and slid out of bed. He stopped for a moment to look at her. The bright red hair, which had caught his attention in the first place, was spread across the pillow, her petite body lost in the covers.

  He rubbed his eyes, making his way to the kitchen. Is anything ever as it seems? Asleep she appeared nothing like a woman more than pleased to screw him and leave. But boy would she.

  After downing a cup of caffeine, not taking much notice of the heat burning the back of his throat, Scott showered and tied the towel around his waist before going to his closet. As he opened the door a soft moan came from behind him and he turned to see her stirring.

  “Oh, hell,” she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her face with both hands. “I fell asleep?”

  “Looks like it.” Scott flashed a half grin and turned his back to her, loosening the towel so it fell to the floor. “I was about to wake you, I have to work today.” He slid his jeans on and reached for a t-shirt. Her hands were on him before he pulled it over his head, her bare breasts pressed against his back. Her arms were through his. Fingers searched his chest, his stomach, and made their way under the zipper of his jeans. She took his cock, already semi-hard, and gave it a few tugs, making him tense.

  “I want you before I go.” She circled around and went to her knees, taking his pants down enough to spring his shaft, pushing the flesh through her lips.

  He shivered at the warmth of her mouth. Taking him to the hilt, sucking, licking, again and again, she moaned and hummed, sending the vibration clear to his spine. Half-lidded, he looked down to watch her devour him.

  She met his eyes and pulled away. “Slap me,” she whispered.

  He’d heard her wrong. “What?”

  Melissa spoke again, louder, more demanding. “Here.” She raised her hand to her left cheek with a mischievous smile.

  He stepped back, pulling up his jeans and fastening them. She had gone too far. Slapping her ass in the heat of the moment and slapping her face were two different things. He gripped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. “Never ask me to do that again.” His voice sounded harsher than he meant for it to, but maybe she would get the point.

  Melissa narrowed her eyes and jerked from his hold. Getting dressed in a fury, she shot him a loathing glance. “I’ll have you know I always get what I want…eventually.” She picked up her shoes as she stormed from the room.

  He followed her mass of red hair through the house and to the front door, confounded by her sudden rage but also relieved she’d decided to leave while acting psycho. The morning blow-job would’ve been great, but jeez, not at this cost. Staying with his gut instinct from last week would’ve been smart. He should’ve stayed away from her. The behavior he witnessed now one hundred percent solidified he was finished with Melissa what’s-her-name.

  Reserving the opportunity to tell her how fucked up she was, Scott remained calm and said, “My truck’s at the bar. Do you want me to call a cab?”

  She opened the door and bolted through it, speaking loud. “I’ll walk. I wouldn’t let you drive me anywhere anyway.”

  Baffled beyond words, Scott followed her to the front porc
h. His sister’s car pulled up, and he saw Sharon’s frown through the windshield as she watched Melissa tromp across his property and take to the sidewalk with shoes in hand.

  Sharon reached to the passenger seat then opened the door and climbed out holding a bag from Morning Glory’s, the best place in town for breakfast and the one meal they served. “Brought you a sausage biscuit.” She beamed, making her way to the porch and walking inside.

  “Thanks.” He took the bag, pulling out the sandwich and taking a bite as he followed Sharon to the kitchen.

  He sat at the table while she filled a cup of coffee. “Do you want some?”

  Settling against the chair, he winced at the cool wood against his bare back. “You read my mind.”

  Sharon laughed. “Maybe it’s because I know you.” She sat the mugs on the table and took a seat across from him, eyeing him with curiosity. “Kind of like how I know you got too drunk to drive last night and would need a ride back to your truck.”

  “Or, maybe when you and Kyle left Night after me, you saw it still sitting in the parking lot.” He took a sip of the hot brew, glancing at the clock. “Damn, it’s almost eight. I think I’ll take you up on the ride. Shirt and shoes and I’ll be good to go.”

  “You know Kyle doesn’t care when you get there.” Sharon put her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands.

  Kyle and Sharon had been together for a few months. Hell, Kyle’s grand gesture to keep Sharon in his life had been to sweep her away on some kind of world beach tour or some shit, and that was the reason he’d hired Scott. They all had a good laugh when the two got back and Kyle learned Scott was Sharon’s younger brother.

  “I know, but I like getting finished before noon on weekends. The Saturday work isn’t bad.”

  “Speaking of work, it sure has packed the muscles on you.” She snorted. “You’re definitely not my skinny little brother anymore. Starting to look more like you used to.”

  He raised his arm, tensing his muscles, and laughed. “Yep, twenty-six pounds. It kind of sucks, I’ve had to buy all new clothes.” Scott got to his feet and headed to his room to get a shirt, still not believing how Melissa had acted because he didn’t want to slap her in the face.

  Sharon spoke loud from the other room. “I don’t want to pry or anything, but I have to ask…why in the hell did I see Missy Dale leave your house?”

  Fuck, Sharon knew her. Of course she did, Sharon worked at the bar where they’d met. One thing about his sister…it didn’t matter that she dated the owner of Donovan Hotels, one of the wealthiest men in the world who would give her everything he had, she still wanted to work for her own money.

  “Visiting,” he answered, pulling his shirt over his head, not wanting to discuss the situation and dreading the fact his sister would hammer him with twenty questions.

  He flipped the lights out on the way to the living room to get his boots. Sharon stood there, hands on her hips, lips pressed in a straight line. Damn it! Worse than twenty questions, Sharon planned on a lecture.

  “Missy’s a friend of mine. Sort of. She used to be…” Sharon waved her hands in front of her. “Look, I know how she is and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Scott slipped his boots on and walked to the door, thankful for being wrong about the lecture. All his sister wanted to do was warn him about something he’d already found out—Melissa was crazy. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m through with her.”

  * * * *

  Jennica Moss unlocked the door and walked into her shop, inhaling deep at the floral scent she loved so much. Being a florist had been her calling. Her mom owned and operated More Than Moss Flowers in Hays, a larger town about two hours away. Watching her mother work and helping to make arrangements were two of Jennica’s favorite memories growing up. With her love of the business and her talent for creating unique designs, she’d decided a long time ago to do this for the rest of her life.

  Saturdays were uncertain when it came to walk-in business, but she didn’t want to miss a sell. Besides, she’d been working on a new bouquet concept with the intention to sell and ship through the internet. Even if she didn’t have many customers, she had plenty to occupy her time.

  Waiting on the computer to come to life, she glanced across the street and watched with amusement as a car pulled up next to the lone truck in the bar parking lot. There were two people, a blonde woman she’d seen entering Night plenty of times and a man—a different man than the one she’d seen the woman with before. This guy had dark, almost black hair. When he stepped from the vehicle and waved as the woman drove away, Jennica noticed tattoos going down his right arm and from the distance she could tell he had a nice build.

  The tattoos gave away his identity…Scott Sims. Being new in town, several customers had filled her in on town gossip and he’d become the main topic since he’d returned home after years of living in Seattle. She learned he’d been the only All-American Quarterback the community had ever produced, and everyone had expected him to have a grand football career. During his senior year in high school, he signed with the number one football ranked college team in the nation, and plenty of people expected him go pro and were certain he would. He’d been the town hero. When he left the day after high school graduation, never to be heard from again, he crushed the dreams so many had for putting Pineville on the map.

  His return had sparked a fury of whispers and scandal. He’d gotten into drugs. He’s worthless. A waste of natural born talent. He cares about no one but himself. Those tattoos are the mark of a gang. He’s become scrawny and out of shape. But from what she’d seen across the street, scrawny was one of the last words she would use to describe him. Besides, Jennica took idle gossip with a grain of salt. From firsthand experience, she knew rumors were seldom true. Growing up in a small town could be rough.

  She sighed, pulling her hair off her shoulders and twisting it in a knot as she sat in front of the computer and opened her web design program. After a while of clicking and copying and pasting and doing it all over again, she decided the product description had lied. It was not a ‘user friendly’ program and she was pretty sure she would never get her little side project off the ground.

  “Damn it,” she mumbled, pushing away from the desk.

  “You sound frustrated,” a male’s voice said, startling her.

  She hadn’t heard the “ding” of the bell signaling the door had opened and a customer had come in. Jennica looked up from her work to see him standing at the counter a few feet away. The guy she took to be Scott Sims looked even better up close. He was taller than she expected, and the muscles in his arms were more defined than she imagined. The black tribal tattoo going down his right arm had shading, giving it contrast, and while she’d never been fond of guys with pierced ears, he rocked them in a David Beckham-hot-Colin Farrell-badass kind of way.

  “Yeah, website issues.” Jennica stood and tried to give her best business smile though it was difficult. She’d been taken aback the instant she saw his eyes—a perfect combination of gold and russet. She’d never seen anything like them before. They reminded her of—she shot her gaze to the multicolored vases on the display shelf—amber glass when it’s lit up by the sun.

  She caught herself becoming all tingling and giddy like a prepubescent school girl and gave her mind a mental slap. He’d gotten out of a woman’s car so he was either in a relationship or one of those woman-of-the-week-man-whore types. Neither of which she would get involved with.

  “I used to build websites.” He folded his arms on the counter and leaned into them. “Maybe I can help.”

  “No, I mean, I bought a program. It’ll take some getting used to.” Someone seeing her website of the scandalous floral arrangements she planned to sell was not what she needed in this small town. She wanted to keep the bondage bouquet business online only, and away from the scrutiny of small town gossips.

  “I’m Scott Sims, by the way.” He raised from his propped position and extended a hand.


  “Jennica Moss,” she responded, taking his hand and giving it a quick shake.

  His firm grasp wrapped around hers a little longer than needed.

  Her face began to heat and she cleared her throat, reminding herself again that a while ago he’d been with another woman. “How can I help you, Scott?”

  He scanned a few of the arrangements on the shelf to the left of him, narrowing his brow. “I’m not great at picking out flowers, but I think I need to send some. Do you deliver on Sundays?”

  Chapter 2

  Scott grabbed a beer from the cooler and popped the lid. At a little after two on Sunday afternoon, he sat at his boss’s house for Sharon’s birthday party. Perched on one of the many rock designed chairs outside by the pool, he watched his sister be happy. The smile on her face and the way she looked at Kyle told him she at last had everything she’d always wanted.

  It was about time.

  She’d gone through a lot of hell in her life. Looking back, it seemed like most of the trouble had come from him. They had different dads. Both were absent, and since their mom worked two jobs, Sharon had taken the responsibility upon herself to make sure Scott had been taken care of. But he hadn’t made it easy. Then he went and broke her heart when he left.

  “I can’t believe I’m one year from thirty now,” she squealed, and ran through the open glass door to hug someone he couldn’t see because of the reflection. Kyle smiled at her, spatula in hand, and turned back to the grill.

  Scott observed the growing crowd. He couldn’t give two shits what these people had said about him, or were still saying now that he was back in town. Sharon hated it though and had lost several friends by taking up for him in the past. Not wanting the dramatics to heat up—for her sake—he tried to appear normal by dressing in a white, long sleeve t-shirt, blue jeans without rips or tears, running shoes which were far from broken in, and a too tight cap constricting his head. He’d even taken out his earrings. Sitting amongst his old friends he felt as much like a fake as they were.