All In (Keep Breathing Book 2) Read online

  KEEP BREATHING BOOK 2

  ERICA MARSELAS

  Copyright ©2020 Erica Marselas

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by: Kristen @YourEditingLounge

  COVER BY: Brianna Hale Untold Designs Romance and Fantasy Covers group

  Contents

  Copyright ©2020 Erica Marselas

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  HOLLY

  "What the hell did I get myself into?" I mumble to myself as I walk into the massive convention center and find myself surrounded by thousands of people dressed as their favorite comic characters. I dig through my purse to pull out my phone to call my friend when Superman bumps into me, pushing me forward. My phone bounces across the carpet floor.

  “Great.” I bend down to retrieve it when a man dressed in a black and red alien suit with horns sticking out everywhere rams into me, knocking me flat on my ass.

  “Watch it, lady,” he says gruffly before walking away

  The nerve. Does anyone here have manners?

  This isn't how my day was supposed to go.

  I should be at work—as planned—going over cabinet colors and tiles for a client's half a million-dollar new kitchen remodel. Instead, I'm now getting ogled by a cyclops.

  My roommate, Amanda, called me in a panic, telling me she got into a fight with her boyfriend and he left her stranded. So, she asked me to come to pick her up. Supposedly, I was her only option.

  What she forgot to mention was she was at a sold-out Comic Con convention. I had to park five blocks away, pay the expensive day rate for parking, and now I have to hunt her down through this insane crowd gathered in the convention hall lobby.

  I’m not allowed past the massive doors leading into the convention without a ticket, and I don’t see any sign of my bubbly roommate anywhere. Though it’s hard to make out who is who through the crowd of costumed people. Besides me. Who sticks out like a sore thumb looking more like Lois Lane than Black Widow.

  I move to find a safe corner, away from all the chaos, and pull out my phone to call Amanda. “Holly. Hey,” she answers with a chirp on the third ring.

  "Where are you?"

  "I'm inside the Hilton.”

  "Okay? That's where I am." And so are a thousand other people. “But where are you?”

  "I'm the one dressed as Wonder Woman."

  I roll my eyes. "There's literally like a hundred people dressed as Wonder Woman here. What are you doing at a Comic Con anyway?"

  "It's a long story. Listen, there's a bar on the lower floor; meet me there. I’ll be there once I get Will Wheaton’s autograph."

  "Alright. You can't miss me. I look like the average Joe among the superheroes. You know, the one who actually needs saving."

  "Shut up. You’re fine." Amanda giggles.

  "You think if I'm lucky, I can find myself a hot Loki?" I joke.

  "If you do, find me his brother. I'll be down in a few once I get through this crowd."

  The hotel bar is not as crazy as the upstairs, but I still need to weave myself through the crew of the Enterprise and two Princess Leias to find a seat.

  I nestle myself on the stool of the long bar, grab the attention of one of the bartenders, and order a glass of their best mid-priced Merlot.

  While I wait, I go through some work emails. I have tons of angry messages from my boss for leaving in the middle of a meeting and a few from the client. Hopefully, if I answer my client’s questions, making them happy, it will lessen the blow with my boss on Monday.

  Doubt it though.

  "Can I get a whiskey? Neat." A gruff voice comes from beside me, grabbing me away from my email.

  A man with a red cape, golden locks, and biceps that should be illegal stands before me.

  Well, I might not have found a hot Loki, but I did find his fine brother, Thor.

  The bartender pushes a napkin to him as he slides onto the stool.

  He hunches over, staring down at the bar looking like he has the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders. His beard is slightly unkempt, while you can tell the rest of him isn't.

  The bartender places his drink down, and he quickly picks it up and downs it. He slams the glass back on the counter and asks for another.

  He glances over at me, and my cheeks heat from being caught staring at the Norse god. I’m grateful when my phone beeps with a new text from Amanda, though I can still feel Thor’s eyes boring into me.

  Amanda: Brian found me and told me he's sorry. He’s going to take me home. Thank you for coming though. I owe you.

  "Seriously," I scoff. I should’ve known. This is so typical of her. She always makes me come out somewhere and then leaves me.

  I’m at the bar. You want to come by and say hi?

  Amanda: We already left. :(

  Are you okay?

  I double-check just to make sure she is alright. Maybe Brian pulled her by her hair out the door, but I doubt it.

  Amanda: I’m great, I swear. It was just a misunderstanding. You know how I get.

  As long as you're okay.

  Amanda: Yep. You’re the best roomie ever.

  Wow. No thank you?

  I stab the power button to turn off the offending screen, pick up my glass of wine, and down it, just like the man beside me did moments ago. I’m pissed. Beyond pissed. She cost me not only thirty dollars for parking but a day's pay. I should have known it wasn’t that urgent. She and her boyfriend are always butting heads, and then an hour later, they’re making up.

  I should’ve waited before coming down here.

  The bar fills with more cosplayers, and the energy and excitement of the place builds. Music pipes through the speakers and I hear someone mention karaoke. That could be interesting. So screw it, since I already paid for the day I might as well make my time of it.

  I wave down the bartender. “Excuse me, can I get a shot of tequila. Lime and salt. Thanks.”

  "Everything okay?" God of Thunder eyes me curiously. “Wine to tequila is a big jump.”

  "Umm…" I shake my head. "No. My friend bailed after I came all this way to get her thinking she was deserted."

  "Some friend,
" he snorts. “I know what that’s like.”

  "Yeah. I left hours of work and an angry boss to come here." I sigh and lose myself momentarily in the haze of his chocolate eyes. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about my woes." I give a gentle smile.

  You look like you have a million problems by just looking into your eyes.

  “Let’s just say, you’re not alone in your woes.” He smirks. “I mean, I’m just dressed up as a superhero, drinking alone at a bar. Not a single friend around myself.” He shrugs and wraps his fingers around his newly refilled glass.

  “Touché. I'm Holly, by the way." I brush my shoulder against his in a poor attempt to flirt.

  He tilts his head back over to me, his golden wig slipping slightly revealing his brown locks. "That's a very Jolly name." He gives me a crooked smile as his eyes roam over me.

  I roll my eyes. "You should really stick to trying to save Asgard rather than making jokes."

  "I have always been told I'm shit at making jokes, but what’s the harm in trying."

  “Sorry for the delay,” the bartender says, sliding my shot of tequila over to me. He lays the lime on the napkin beside it.

  “Thanks,” I tell the bartender and then edge in closer to the handsome stranger beside me. “Well, are you going to tell me your name? Or are you going to make me guess? I’m pretty sure it’s not Thor.”

  "The name’s..." He looks down at his glass of whiskey then back at me. "Liam."

  "How come you sound so unsure of that?"

  "Because…alcohol." He gives me a crooked smile, and I giggle. "Hey, I'm improving."

  "You are."

  "Cheers to that then." He lifts his glass of whiskey, and I raise my shot of tequila.

  "Cheers." We clink glasses and then toss them back. “Whoo.” I shake my head as the tequila burns down my throat.

  Liam picks up the lime and places it to my lips. “Suck,” his husky voice croons. My lips wrap around the lime, and I suck the tart juices, my eyes never leaving his as I do so. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a good night, Holly.” He winks, and his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. I pucker against it, and he smirks. “Oh, yes, a very good night.”

  The liquor starts to flow between us, and my somber man loses the wig sometime between the fourth and fifth drink. It turns out Liam is actually funny as the night goes on. He has been keeping me in stitches, and the weight he was carrying when he came in appears to be lifting slightly.

  I also haven’t felt this relaxed in months.

  Never in a million years would I let myself get this drunk in a bar and on top of it all with a stranger.

  I have been so worried about following rules, making plans, sticking to my routine, I never let myself be so reckless.

  Tonight, I want to break all the rules I made for myself, live a little. Take a chance, especially with Liam, who has been spending the whole night making me feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

  I can't say how many times he's called me beautiful or found a reason to touch me or run his thumb across my lips.

  Every brush of his fingers makes my skin ignite, and I’m desperate for more.

  “So, what exactly are you doing here alone? I’m sure it didn't start that way for you,” I ask as I roam my finger over his bulging biceps.

  “I got left behind too. I thought I was coming here to have fun. I needed it. It’s been a fucking rough…rough couple of months.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I offer an ear. I can tell he needs it. Every time he looks down into that brown liquor, I swear he just wants to drown in it.

  “I wouldn’t want to bore you with my problems. Plus, we are having fun.”

  “You won’t bore me.”

  “You’re too sweet to get weighed down with my problems.” He brushes my hair off my shoulder and rests his other hand on my hip.

  “I don't mind. I'm a great listener.”

  “I can think of something much more entertaining to do than having some heart to heart.”

  “Yeah?” My lips wet as he moves in closer to me.

  He pushes my legs apart with his knees and stands in between them. “Oh yeah. Do you want to have some fun, Holly?” My heart pounds in my chest and words escape me. The scent of the whiskey on his breath overtaking all my senses. “Are you going to say anything?”

  I shake my head. Talking seems so overrated right now.

  He leans into me, only millimeters from my lips, and I grab onto the edge of his vest demanding him closer. “How about this then?” His arm slips around my waist and he lifts me off the stool. His tongue traces over my lips, demanding I open, and I submit, allowing him in.

  He moans down my throat. “Fuck, you taste good.”

  The sounds of hoots and hollers pull me away from him reminding me of our very public display. “I really shouldn’t,” I murmur against his lips and place my hands on his firm chest to push him back.

  “I really shouldn’t either, but I really want to.” He takes my bottom lip between his teeth. "You fucking captivated me tonight. I need this. One night with you.” His brown eyes blaze into mine.

  "Just one night?" I swallow.

  "One is all we need." He smirks, his fingers tracing over the curve of my ass. “I promise to make it memorable. Come up to my room with me.”

  If you say no, I’ll kick your ass, some voice within me screams.

  I nod, not willing to argue with my inner voice while at the same time losing myself in his lust-filled eyes.

  “I need to hear you say it," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of my lips.

  "Yes," I murmur.

  Liam tells the bartender to put everything on his tab, and before I can protest, he’s pulling me into another hazing kiss.

  This isn’t me. I have never been the girl who throws caution to the wind. I’m not reckless and I don’t do things on a whim.

  I, Holly Jenkins, do NOT have one night stands. Especially not with total strangers I meet at the bar.

  I date and let my heart be broken the natural way.

  However, as Liam wraps his hands around my waist and leads me to the elevators, it isn’t my brain leading the game; it’s my libido begging for an orgasm from a man who looks like pure sex. Whose arms I've been staring at all night and every time his biceps flex my panties only got wetter. I want to live dangerously for once. I want Liam to take me on every inch of his hotel suite. Liam’s lips attach to the side of my neck as we fumble our way into his hotel room. Clothes go flying before the door has a chance to latch closed. My mind abandons all other thoughts as Liam lifts me to the dresser and his mouth attaches to my achy core.

  The sun rises on the next morning, and I wake up naked and alone. Beside me is a note laying on the wrinkled white pillowcase.

  I pull the sheet tight to my bare skin and unfold the note. With messy scribble, it reads:

  Sorry I had to run and get to work. Room is paid for till 12.

  Thanks for a great night. Last night was fun.

  -Thor

  I crumble up his note and throw it onto the floor.

  Asshole.

  What did I expect though? I knew what I was getting myself into the second Liam asked me to come up here. I knew he was trouble. My body aches all over, and as I fall back down to the bed, the memories of last night fill my mind. It was all worth it. I shower, dress, and make my exit into the muggy morning, doing the walk of shame back to my car, five blocks away.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LIAM

  Three years later

  Music drifts from the garden as I make my way to the deck that overlooks the crowd of mingling socialites, hoping for a moment of peace. I grab my bowtie and yank it loose from my neck. These black-tie events always make me feel as if I'm choking. Money hungry people at every corner nipping at my heels to get a piece of my action. I try to avoid these galas, but I've been forced here against my will by my parents. Though, I know I'm not completely wanted here and only been brought for show. My pare
nts throw these lavish affairs every six months at their estate to make sure their names are always the talk of the elite crowd. It's how it's been since I can remember.

  “Champagne, sir?” a pimple faced kid, not old enough to drink himself, offers.

  “No,” I grunt, glaring at the kid, who stumbles back, making the drinks wobble. I have an urge to finish knocking them over. “Didn’t they tell you not to bother me?”

  “I’m—no—I’m sorry, sir.” The kid tucks his head down and surges away.

  I pinch my brow and know it wasn’t the kid’s fault. I doubt my father or mother told the staff not to bother me when it came to alcoholic beverages.

  It’s the one thing I hate about coming to these events; the open bar is only twenty feet away from me. My parents know I'm a recovering addict, and though I've been sober for years, and my main addiction was oxy, alcohol was just as much of a crutch to ease my pain. Every day is still a constant battle. Days like today with the stress of a bad couple of weeks rest on my shoulders, and it would be easier to escape in a bottle of whiskey than to deal with the reality.

  It’s why I don’t allow myself in these sorts of situations anymore. The temptation where alcohol flows freely can be too much.

  I swear my old man does this shit to test me, to see if I fail and go back to my ways.

  He's always waiting for me to fucking fail.

  I've come so far in a short time. I know the dangers I will face if I taste the sweet bourbon.

  For now, I tease my mind and rattle the ice in my water glass before I toss it back, letting it chill my bones and pretend it could be something stronger for a second.

  I spot my identical twin brother Landon, who just arrived from California. I have been avoiding my brother since he arrived, and I plan to do so for longer when I see the bourbon in his hand. My father has brought him in to check up on how I’m running my part of the company. It’s the only reason my brother comes to Florida anymore. When Dad thinks I need to be babysat. Not that I need a babysitter. The Florida branch of Morgan Securities has been expanding its technology and branching out its services. I’m hiring on three hundred new employees and also working with the FBI, and other government agencies. How much more do I need to do to prove how successful business is going?