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Worship me, p.16

Worship Me, page 16

 part  #7 of  Men of Inked Series


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  hit the wall with each blow, pushing me closer to the edge and toward the orgasm I hadn’t even known I wanted until I walked through the door.

  “Faster.” I pushed my ass back and thrust my cunt at him, wanting more of him.

  He grunted, taking me deeper and harder than before. Within minutes, I was tumbling over the edge, gasping for air and riding the high.

  I loved my life. I loved my husband. I loved my kids. There wasn’t a thing I would change. Not a moment I would alter because it wouldn’t bring me to this very second, tucked away in the office with James. Where the future would bring us, I didn’t know, but I sure as hell was excited to find out.

  The End for now… More Gallos are coming in 2018.

  Turn the page for a special letter from Chelle Bliss and a sneak peek into her next releases.

  A Letter from Chelle Bliss

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for taking the time to read Worship Me and spending a few hours with the Gallos. I hope you loved crawling back into their world as much as I did. I also want to say thank you for coming back. It’s been so long since I’ve published, and I appreciate your patience and love during this time.

  The last year of my life has been extremely difficult, and writing this story was a safety net for me in so many ways. In times of tragedy, I’ve found it hard to write happy stories. And sometimes even putting down any words on paper has been trying, to say the least.

  If you follow me on social media, you know what I’ve been through. If you don’t, I want to give you a glimpse into my world. Often, so many of you read our books but have no idea about us…the real person behind the dirty words and fun stories.

  I have a lot in common with Izzy. I think that’s why I chose to write the continuation of her story at this time. Just like her, I’m a total daddy’s girl. I went to my father for everything. He was my go-to person for advice in times of need, and he always had an answer to my questions. He’s been my rock for forty years of my life. But in September of 2016, three months after the sudden passing of my only sibling, we found out that my father’s cancer was back and more aggressive.

  After months of searching for treatments that his body could handle, we had to face the fact that there was nothing else that could be done for him medically.

  To say I was devastated is an understatement.

  My world turned upside down.

  I took time away from my work to spend more time with my father. I knew time was fleeting and that soon he’d be gone. I took him to doctors’ appointments, drove him to dialysis, and bought him anything that would make him more comfortable. I wanted to move heaven and earth to save my father. Even though I knew all of my attempts would fail, I never stopped trying.

  He urged me to stop fawning over him, to go home and write. But how could I? It’s hard to write happy when I felt every other emotion except joy.

  My dad was my best friend. I told him that often. He was my first text every morning and the last one I’d get at night telling me that he loved me and he hoped I’d sleep well. I know my visits with him were the highlight of his days, and to be honest, they were mine too.

  I loved how his face lit up when I walked into the room. There will never be another man on this planet who will love me more than my father. No one. The unconditional love that a father has for his daughter can’t be matched, even by a soul mate or the love of our life.

  In late January, after months of fighting, my father became bedridden. Within days, his health had declined, and I knew the end was near. I stayed by his side, talking with him and holding his hand as long as he’d allow.

  Two days before he passed, I sat on the floor next to his bed, and he asked if I’d finished writing my book. I told him I had. He touched my nose and smiled, telling me, “Go home and start the next.” My father was so damn proud of me, watching me go from a teacher to an author and succeeding. But I reminded him that there was nothing in the world, not even my books, that was more important than him. I haven’t released the novel I wrote while he lay slowly dying, but I will someday… I’m just not ready yet.

  For forty-eight hours, I lay at his side, playing his favorite songs and talking his ear off. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I just was with him for every breath, every second, and lots of tears.

  On January 31st at 6:15 p.m., he took his last breath, lying next to me with our hands interlaced. I have never been so devastated and lost in my entire life. Not only did I lose my father, but I lost my life-long best friend and the man who showered me with unconditional love.

  Watching someone die alters a person and changes them in such a way that they’ll never be the same. I’m not the same person I was on January 30th, and I’ll never be her again. But my heart breaks more for my mother who has now lost her only son and the man she’s loved since she was seventeen.

  We’re both lost, cast into a sea of grief together, trying to find our way back to some form of normalcy even though there’s no such thing anymore.

  We’re left with a gaping hole that used to be filled by two men, both bursting with so much life and love that no one can ever replace them. Today, as you read this book, it should be a happy day for me. But it’s bittersweet. My father always texted me as soon as he woke up to wish me a happy release day, and this will be the first one where I won’t get the same message, and no release day will ever be the same.

  The man taught me everything. He made me the fierce and unafraid woman I am today. He always told me I could be anything I wanted and that I would have a better life than he did. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to drive a car, how to roller-skate and bowl. There wasn’t a thing that my father didn’t teach me, and above all else, he taught me compassion, bravery, and love.

  I will forever be my father’s daughter. I will forever be grateful for the first man who ever loved me. I will forever have a part of me missing without his presence in my life. I am not the same girl I was last year, but I will forge on, becoming someone better to carry on his legacy.

  If you’re lucky enough to still have your dad in your life, hug him and remember that tomorrow he may not be here. If you’re lucky enough to have a father like I did, hold him a little tighter and tell him how much you love him.

  I move forward with no regrets. He knew how much he meant to me, and I knew how much he loved me because he told me every day. The only thing that tugs at my heart is that I won’t have another chance to tell him for the billionth time… thanks for being my daddy.


  Chelle Bliss

  Even though 2017 started rocky, I’m about to kick some ass. Turn the page and find out what’s in store for the rest of the year. There’s a lot happening!



  Sophia & Kayden’s Story releases Summer 2017

  “Hello…” he said. “Earth to Sophia.”

  I jumped as fingers snapped in my face. “Oh, sorry, Gary.” I blinked a couple of times, trying to focus.

  “Where did you go?”

  “Nowhere, something just caught my eye on the other side of the restaurant.” I’d always been a terrible liar, but thank God Gary was too self-absorbed to even care.

  He asked me out six months ago after work. I figured, what the hell, why not? He was attractive, a couple years younger, had a stable job, and seemed reliable.

  “As I was saying before you zoned out, this kid in my class today…”

  I stared at him but couldn’t comprehend a word he spoke. I didn’t try to either. I wanted to leave work behind at the end of the day, but Gary couldn’t talk about anything else.

  We had a casual relationship, going out once a week for dinner and drinks. But lately, the evenings ended at his place and consisted of lackluster sex and mind-numbing conversation.

  Gary was the type of man who “made love” in the only position he was comfortable…missionary. I moaned when it seemed right and faked my orgasms when I’
d had enough.

  Sex with Gary just didn’t have that extra something that pulled me over the edge. But then again, I’d never found anyone who gave it to me that way.

  “Can you believe he said that?” Gary laughed.

  If people could be a color, Gary would be gray. He didn’t have the edginess to be black or the sparkle of white. He was perfectly gray—dull, lifeless, and totally bland.

  I laughed, shaking my head and playing along. “That’s too funny.” My insides were dying from boredom as I spun the pasta around my fork for a little excitement.

  “Do you want to come over tonight?” He raised an eyebrow, and that was his way of asking if I felt like “making love.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Why can’t he just say it? I wanted a man who would pull my hair, spank my ass, and make me come so hard I saw stars. Instead, I had gray Gary with his adequate-size cock and no clue how to use it.

  “I’m kind of tired. Do you mind if I take a rain check?”

  His toothy smile vanished. “Another night, then,” he replied, glancing down at his pasta and stabbing at the noodles.

  I tried to pay attention the rest of dinner, but I barely heard a word he said. I nodded when it was right, laughed when he did, and said a silent prayer when it was all over.

  When he kissed me good-bye and closed my car door, I could tell he was upset, but I wasn’t going to spend another night with gray Gary in missionary position with no satisfaction.

  As I pulled into my driveway, I sighed at the thought of another Friday night alone in my pajamas. I wanted to crawl out of my skin, break the good-girl mold I’d allowed others to cage me in. I lived another life in my books, one filled with excitement and passion. My book boyfriends dominated me, fucking me so hard that the orgasms knocked me out just like the lucky bitches in the books.

  A notification flashed across my phone screen just as I crawled into bed, curling up with my flavor of the week. Tonight, I’d have my hair pulled and ass smacked by an alpha male with a heart.

  My eyebrows drew together, and I chewed on my lip as I stared at the name. Kayden Michaels wanted to be my friend on Facebook. His name didn’t sound familiar, but I clicked on his profile anyway out of curiosity.

  He grew up close to my hometown and we had a few mutual friends, but not even his face looked familiar. One thing I learned working in a school, never blindly hit accept unless I knew the person. Too many students, both current and former, were trying to find out about my life, and some things were meant to be kept private.

  Me: Do I know you?

  I studied his face again as I waited for his reply. He had warm green eyes, a shaved head, a sinful grin framed by a goatee, and dimples.

  Fucking hell, he’s got dimples.

  His facial hair was a mix of brown and gold, but the rest of him was smooth and hairless, well, at least the parts I could see. He looked like the quintessential bad boy, a type I steered clear of my entire life but visited nightly in my fantasies.

  I tapped my finger against my bottom lip, my finger hovering over the decline button before his message stopped me.

  Kayden: Not yet.

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