“I’m still carrying an extra fifteen pounds,” I confess with a wince.
“I don’t care.” He bends down to kiss me, his mouth lingering on mine. “None of that matters.”
“Some women just bounce right back,” I start to protest but he cuts me off with his lips, silencing me with a sweetly passionate kiss. He trails his tongue across the seam of my lips and I open for him, winding my arms around him so I can run my hands down the broad width of his back.
“I don’t care about other women,” he murmurs after he breaks our kiss. “I only care about you.”
I clutch him close as he moves down my body, his hands sliding along my sides, then settling at my hips so he can grip my waist. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest, and I shift beneath him, feeling restless and needy. It really has been too long since we’ve done this. I never want to turn into that old married couple who never have sex. We’re too young for that sort of nonsense.
“You’re perfect just as you are,” he whispers against my belly and I giggle when his warm breath tickles me. “Never lose sight of the fact that I love you for you, Fable. That I also happen to think you’re gorgeous is just a bonus.”
God, when he says stuff like that I want to cry. Seriously. “I’m so glad you’re home,” I whisper as he moves back up to kiss me. He’s naked, he somehow he kicked off his underwear, and I know he’s ready. Despite his reassurances, I’m still self-conscious and he realizes it. He’s being very careful of me and I appreciate it so much.
“Is it okay to have sex?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern. “I mean, I know the doctor gave her okay, but how are you feeling?”
“Honestly? I’m a little nervous.” Fine, I’m a lot nervous, but I don’t want to freak him out. “Just … go slow, okay?”
“I will.” He kisses me, his lips gentle and sweet. “I promise.”
And he does go slow, his patience for me an unspoken reassurance. We kiss for what feels like hours, his hands sliding all over my body, touching me in all the precise places he knows I like. He strokes me between my legs, circling my clit with his index finger until I subtly start to move against his hand, losing myself in his touch. I come this way surprisingly quick, his mouth on mine, his fingers touching me, and I pull away from him to cry out as I arch into his hand.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs when my orgasm is over, and I reach for him, stroking his erection, marveling at how big he is, how hard. It’s been a long time for both of us and it’s left me feeling a little disconnected from him. I’m eager to get that connection back, to feel whole again. To feel as one with Drew.
I think he feels the same.
He enters me with tenderness, his touch light, his cock thick as he pushes inside of me. I lie there completely still, taking him all in, breathing through his movements, and he pauses. His arms are braced on either side of my head and he presses his forehead against mine, staring at me with that familiar, intense blue gaze. “All right?”
Nodding, I smile. “Definitely all right.”
Drew kisses me and then begins to really move. Still keeping the pace slow but steady. I feel like I’m floating, my body engulfed in pleasure as I hold him close, his skin imprinted on mine. I can smell him, fresh and clean from his shower, along with a mixture of faint sweat and sex. His thrusts begin to quicken. Harder, faster, and I’m relieved I feel no pain beyond the initial discomfort of him pushing inside of me.
“I love you,” he whispers before he kisses me. A sloppy, almost desperate kiss, which tells me he’s close. “I’m gonna come, Fable.”
He reaches in between us before I can say anything, touching my clit, thrusting deep. “I-I’m close, too,” I stutter, closing my eyes against the onslaught of sensation that’s sweeping over my skin.
And then I’m coming. So is he. We’re coming together and that doesn’t happen very often but somehow, at this very moment, it is happening. We cling to each other, our soft moans loud, our shivery bodies electric as our skin sticks together. I’m breathing so loud I sound like I just ran a marathon, and so does he.
“Damn, that was ama—” he starts but is interrupted.
A wail sounds in the next room and I start to laugh. “Autumn has great timing.”
He pulls away from me and crawls out of bed, slipping on a pair of sweats that he’d thrown over a chair. “I’ll go get her,” he says, the look he gives me so full of unbridled emotion a shiver steals through me, making me hot. For him.
I have the best husband in the entire world.
Drew
I bring Autumn back into bed with us and she lies in between us, Fable back in her panties and a fresh T-shirt, her hair pulled into a sloppy knot on top of her head. She looks pretty and young, much like she did when I first met her, and I have no idea why she’s so worried about her weight. I think she looks fucking amazing.
“She’s spoiled,” Fable says, tickling Autumn’s chubby belly and making her smile.
“Why do you say that?”
“We’re going to give her everything she could ever want.” Fable sighs. “She’s a lucky little girl.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” I grab Autumn’s fist, pry open her tiny, perfect fingers, and she curls them around my index finger. “Damn, this girl has a strong grip.”
“Don’t say that word,” Fable says primly. “Her ears must remain pristine.”
“Please.” I roll my eyes. “You’re taking this too far, Fable.”
“Whatever. She’s a perfect little princess who will never, ever hear one filthy word uttered from any of us. Right, sweetie?” Fable smiles down at Autumn and my chest grows tight.
My girls are everything to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve them but I’m thankful. So damn thankful that I even wrote a little something about them both last night …
“I have something to show you,” I tell Fable as I get off the bed and go to my dresser, where I stashed the piece of paper I’d scribbled on.
“What is it? A diamond ring in exchange for me giving you your daughter? Is it my push present?” she asks hopefully.
I turn to look at her, frowning. “Push present?”
“You haven’t heard of it? Yeah, pregnant women get a push present. Usually something extravagant and expensive that they feel they deserve for going through the agony that is known as labor,” she explains.
“Do you want a push present?” I’ve never heard of such a thing and it sounds bogus. Yeah, she went through the agony of labor and that shit got real there those last few minutes when she was pushing. I’d hated seeing Fable in so much pain, especially since there was nothing I could do about it.
But a push present? That’s reaching.
“No.” She laughs, the sound filling me, making my heart light. “I was just kidding, Drew.”
I’m relieved, because how the hell am I supposed to know about this stuff? I’ve never heard of a push present before.
Grabbing the folded piece of paper from my top drawer, I walk back to the bed and hold it out to her. “For you.”
She sits up, bringing Autumn with her, and takes the piece of paper from me. “What is it?”
“Read it and see,” I say.
Her fingers shaking, she releases a shuddery breath and then glances down, slowly unfolding the piece of paper and reading silently.
I hope she doesn’t think it’s dumb. I’m a little rusty with this sort of thing now. I plan on getting a tattoo of Autumn’s name on my arm or maybe my chest. If I were a real poet, I’d turn something into Autumn’s name but damn, it’s long and has crazy letters.
I’ll save that attempt for next time.
My girls
Are everything
Real to me.
Sweet and full of
Hope
My girls
Are my
Lifeline. My
Love for them
Overwhelms me
We’re lucky we have each other.
“Oh, Drew.” Her v
oice cracks and there are tears streaming down her cheeks. I swear I’ve seen her cry more these last nine months than in all the years we’ve been together. “I love it.”
“You don’t think it’s lame? I haven’t written one of those in a long time.”
“That you still want to write them, I …” She shakes her head, seemingly overwhelmed. “I love them. I’ve saved them all. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
I go to her and settle on the bed beside her, then reach over and take Autumn into my arms. She tries to lift her head to look at me, doing a little bob and weave that I always find amusing, and I start to laugh, rubbing my thumb against my baby’s cheek. “I’ll attempt a poem with her name next.”
“That ought to be tough. There’s a U in her name. Two of them,” Fable points out.
“I think I’m up to the challenge.” Leaning in, I drop a tender kiss on my wife’s lips. “You ready for more?”
“More sex?” Fable asks hopefully, making me laugh. “But Autumn just woke up.”
“I wasn’t meaning more sex, though that’s definitely on the agenda.” I look at her, schooling my expression into serious mode. “I meant more babies.”
Her jaw drops open. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
I cover Autumn’s ears, scowling at my foul-mouthed wife. “Your pretty princess just heard you drop the F-bomb.”
“Drew.” She slaps my arm. “Here I am still recovering and you want to knock me up again. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I like babies. I want lots of them. Don’t you?” I drop my hands from Autumn’s ears and smooth one over her head, her dark hair so like mine. “You need a brother or sister, right, sweetheart?” I say to her.
“Yeah. She does,” Fable finally says, her voice soft, her eyes glowing. “I do want more babies. Just not right now.”
“That’s what I thought.” I kiss her again. “You need to apologize to your daughter for saying such a naughty word.”
“She’ll get over it,” Fable says, leaning her head on my shoulder. She settles her hand on my thigh and her touch burns through the thick cotton of my sweats. “I love you so much, Drew.”
“I love you too, Fable.”
She looks up at me. “Forever?”
I smile and drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And ever.”
A Note from the Author
Dear Readers,
I’m so thrilled to share with you more of Drew + Fable’s story. I feel like we’ve come full circle. A little over a year ago (January 10th, 2013 to be exact) I self published One Week Girlfriend. I had zero expectations for the book beyond hoping a few someones would read it. I had no idea so many readers would fall in love with Drew + Fable. I can’t believe how much has happened this last year but know this—I am extremely grateful.
When I wrote One Week Girlfriend and followed up with Second Chance Boyfriend, I had no intentions of continuing their story. I was done and felt like I ended it at the right place. As I played around with ideas for Three Broken Promises and Four Years Later, I knew Drew + Fable would appear in both books, especially Owen’s book because come on, they’re family.
But I had so many readers emailing me, messaging me on Facebook, tweeting me on Twitter, etc. that they wanted more. I started to feel greedy and thought yeah, I want more, too. So I approached my agent, who approached my editor, and thankfully, they liked the idea. That’s how this novella, Drew + Fable Forever, came about—because of you.
I wrote this thinking of you the entire time. So I hope you enjoy this glimpse into Drew + Fable’s lives. I hope it makes you smile and maybe even brings a tear to your eye. I hope you still feel the love and emotion that swirls between these two because man, are they in love with each other. They are so lucky to have found each other. I still feel like they’re real people, which sounds crazy but I can’t help it. These two are special to me. This entire series is special to me.
And with that, I want to remind you that you can see even more Drew + Fable in Four Years Later, which is available February 2014. I just can’t quit those two.
Thank you all for your love and support. I couldn’t do this without you.
xoxo
Monica
BY MONICA MURPHY
One Week Girlfriend Series
One Week Girlfriend
Second Chance Boyfriend
Three Broken Promises
Drew + Fable Forever (e-Original Novella)
PHOTO: COLBY RAIMER
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author MONICA MURPHY is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes New Adult contemporary romance and is the author of the One Week Girlfriend series.
monicamurphyauthor.com
[email protected] www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyAuthor
www.facebook.com/DrewAndFableOfficial
@MsMonicaMurphy
The Maguire family never takes the easy road when it comes to love, and Fable’s younger brother, Owen, is no exception.
Monica Murphy continues her bestselling New Adult One Week Girlfriend series with
FOUR YEARS LATER
The sexy story of two college kids with nothing in common but a bunch of baggage and a burning attraction.
Read on for an exclusive sneak peek
Coming soon from Bantam Books
Chapter One
It doesn’t matter what people think about you. It’s what you think about yourself that counts.
—Unknown
Owen
I wait outside in the hallway, slumped in a chair with my head bent down, staring at my grungy black Chucks. The closed door to my immediate left is composed mostly of glass; it’s hazy and distortional but I know who’s inside. I can hear the low murmur of their voices but I don’t really hear the words.
That’s okay. I know what they’re saying about me.
My counselor. My coach. My sister. My brother-in-law. They’re all inside, talking about my future. Or lack thereof.
Tilting my head back, I stare at the ceiling, wondering yet again how the hell I got here. A few years ago, life was good. Hell, last summer life was really good. I was on the team. Running on that field like my feet were on fire and I couldn’t ever be stopped. Coach approved, a big grin on his face when he’d tell me, You’re just like Drew.
Yeah. That made me proud as shit. I idolize my brother-in-law. He makes me feel safe. He understands me when Fable never, ever could. Not that she doesn’t try as best as she can, but she’s a girl. She doesn’t get it.
Thinking of girls makes my heart feel like it’s made out of lead. Solid and thick and impenetrable. I haven’t been with a girl since … I don’t know. A few weeks? I miss ’em. Their smiles and their laughter and the way they gasp when I dive in all smooth-like and kiss them. Their soft skin and how easy it all was. Clothes falling off and legs and arms tangled up.
Being on the football team meant I could get all the tail that I could ever want. But if I don’t have the grades, I can’t be on the team. If I can’t stop smoking weed, then I’m kicked off the team. If I get caught one more time drinking at one of the bars while I’m underage, I’m definitely off the fucking team forever. Zero tolerance, baby.
None of us practice what the team rules preach.
The glass door swings open and my college counselor peeks her head out, her expression grim, her gaze distant when she stares at me. “You can come in now, Owen.”
Without a word I stand and shuffle inside the room, unable to look at anyone for fear I’ll see all that disappointment flashing in their eyes. The only one I chance a glance at is Drew, and his expression is full of so much sympathy I almost want to grab him in a tackle hug and beg him to make it all better.
But I can’t do that. I’m a grown-ass man—or so Mom tells me.
Fuck. There’s my biggest secret. I can hardly stand to think of her, let alone when Fable is sitting right next to me. She woul
d flip. Out. If she knew the truth.
She doesn’t know. No one knows Mom is back in town and begging me to help her. She asks me to get her weed and I do. She gives me beer as payment and I drink it. Handing over all the spare money that I make.
I’m working at The District; I’m a waiter there when I’m not in class or at practice or supposed to be studying or whatever the hell. I’m making decent money, I’m on a football scholarship, and Drew plays for the NFL for the love of God so they’ve got no problems. Fable and Drew live in the Bay Area, he plays for the 49ers, and he’s one loaded motherfucker.
I refuse to take a handout from them beyond their helping me pay for school expenses and my apartment, which I share, thank you very much, to ease the burden. Mom blew back into town last spring, when my freshman year was winding down. Knowing I have a soft spot for her, that I’m easily manipulated by her words.
Your sister’s rich, she tells me. That little bitch won’t give me a dime but I know you will, sweetie. You’re my precious baby boy, remember? The one who always watched out for me. You want to protect me, right? I need you, Owen. Please.
She says “please” and like a sucker, I hand over all the available cash I have to her.
“We’ve been discussing your future here at length, Owen,” my counselor says. Her voice is raspy, like she’s smoked about fifty thousand packs of smokes too many, and I focus all my attention on her, not wanting to see the disappointment written all over Fable’s face. “There are some things we’re willing to look past. You’re young. You’ve made some mistakes. There are many on your team who’ve made the same mistakes.”
Hell yeah, there are. Those guys are my friends. We made those mistakes together.
“Your grades are suffering. Your sister is afraid you work too much and she called your boss.” Holy. Shit. I can’t believe she did that. But hell, the owner of the restaurant is her friend and former boss, Colin. He’ll rat me out fast, I guess, even though he doesn’t really work there any longer. He and Jen moved on right after I graduated high school. They’re in Southern California now, opening one restaurant after another, all over the place.