Be My Forever: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 2) Read online

  Be My Forever

  Make It Marriage Book 2

  Nia Arthurs

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.

  BE MY FOREVER

  Copyright © 2019 Nia Arthurs

  Written by Nia Arthurs

  Cover by Oliviaprodesign

  (V1)

  Also by Nia Arthurs

  Caribbean Crush Series

  His Exception

  Her Deception

  The Complication

  Grudging Hearts Series

  Forever Loving You

  Forever Craving You

  Forever Claiming You

  Make It Marriage Series

  Be My Always

  Be My Forever

  more coming in 2020

  Sign up for the Nia Arthurs mailing list

  About This Book

  Rule #1 My best friend's kid sister is off limits.

  Rule #2 Refer to the rule above.

  Rule #3 No matter what, don’t even dream about touching Venus.

  I know how lucky I am to be an honorary member of my best friend’s family.

  It’s just that every time I think about Venus, I start wanting more.

  Good thing I’m an expert at keeping my distance.

  That is… until danger forces Venus to move in with me.

  Now it’s harder to ignore her sweet laugh, her soft brown eyes, her sexy smile

  And that moan, the one she makes over my breakfast pancakes—

  But I can still keep my hands to myself.

  I follow the rules. Draw the line at ‘just friends’.

  Then she presses her sweet mouth to mine.

  And all those rules turn to dust.

  Suddenly, it’s clear.

  She’s too damn tempting to resist.

  Contents

  1. Troy

  2. Venus

  3. Troy

  4. Venus

  5. Troy

  6. Venus

  7. Troy

  8. Venus

  9. Troy

  10. Venus

  11. Troy

  12. Venus

  13. Troy

  14. Venus

  15. Troy

  16. Troy

  17. Venus

  18. Troy

  19. Venus

  20. Troy

  21. Troy

  22. Venus

  23. Troy

  24. Venus

  25. Troy

  26. Venus

  27. Troy

  28. Venus

  29. Venus

  30. Venus

  31. Troy

  32. Venus

  33. Troy

  34. Venus

  35. Venus

  Epilogue

  Be My Darling

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Author’s Note

  Stay In Touch

  Also by Nia Arthurs

  One

  Troy

  Venus grips the table, hands on either side of the cake. Gold bracelets shimmy to her slim wrist. She’s laughing. Her shoulders shake. Thick curls dance across her back.

  Damn, that slinky red dress—the same tint as her reddish-brown hair.

  She looks stunning.

  More than that.

  She’s…

  Everything.

  My fingers curl into fists.

  Nails press into the palm of my flesh.

  I let the pain hold, linger. Use it to bury how desperately I want to touch her.

  How wrong that feeling is.

  How slowly Evan will kill me if he finds out I’m staring at his baby sister with more than friendly affection.

  Venus gathers her curly hair with one hand so it’s out of the way. It’s too thick to be tamed. Springy coils pop out of her firm clutch and feather the side of her face.

  She bends over. Arches her back.

  That thin scrap of fabric—how the hell is that little thing called a dress—shifts.

  Plunges.

  Lower.

  So low her tits are practically hanging out.

  I clench my jaw.

  Fight the fury crawling over my back.

  I sense the shift in the air.

  The way the other guys are staring at her.

  Drooling over her body.

  The way I want to.

  Nine times nine is eighty-one. Ten times ten is a hundred…

  I thump my finger against the side of my pants as I count in my head. If I don’t get my crap together, I’m going to smash a few skulls. And maybe fracture my knuckles. Can’t head to the studio tomorrow with a cast on my wrist.

  Evan grabs Venus and tries to shove her head in the cake.

  She smacks him away. Laughs. Realizes her hair isn’t staying still and tosses the mass of it over her other shoulder.

  Her smile beams, more brilliant than the eighteen tiny flames above the eighteen sparkling candles.

  Her brown eyes lift.

  Slam into mine.

  A corner of her lips tilt up. Guess what I’m wishing for?

  She’s flirting with me.

  Or maybe I’m so desperate I’m seeing what I want.

  Either way, nothing’s happening.

  But if it did…

  She’s legal.

  It would be legal.

  To date her. To long for her.

  She’s been a dirty temptation until now, but today these feelings are…

  Well, I can’t say they’re squeaky clean.

  They’re not.

  Never were.

  The things I want to do to her…

  Damn, what am I thinking?

  Venus is too precious.

  So’s her family—Evan, Mrs. G, Papi.

  I have no one else.

  They’re the only people I’ve got.

  The only family who cares.

  I’m not going there.

  Even if her lips make my body throb as they part, ever-so-slightly, to blow out the candles.

  Even if her eyes catch mine when she straightens. I just wished for you to take me upstairs.

  My heart thunders in my ears.

  Not. Happening.

  Applause and cheers break out.

  Venus is pulled into the arms of some jock with a huge head and a crew cut.

  I bristle.

  Evan frowns. He doesn’t like the guy either—for slightly different reasons than me—but Venus told him to take his concern and shove it. She and Jock Guy have been dating on-again, off-again for the past two years.

  “Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Evan succeeds in prying the teenager, whose eyes are gleaming with lust—evidence in his pants to prove it—away from Venus.

  I’m glad he stepped in because I was two-seconds away from taking care of the problem myself and I wouldn’t have been that gentle.

  My scowl deepens.

  Venus can’t stay single for a day without those over-sized, hormonal man-babies sniffing around her. Touching her. Wanting her.

  And I get it.

  I do.

  She’s beautiful. Kind. Smart. Funny. And innocent… but in a way that begs to be soiled.

  Like right now…

  She’s looking at me again. Thick eyelashes flutter. Up. Down. A slender finger—pink nails flashing tiny diamond studs—slips into the cake. An upward thrust gathers white frosting on the tip.

  She pulls it out. Licks it gently. Her eyelids fall together as she lets out a soft, little moan.

  My body buzzes.

  My veins hum with desire.

 
I hate the distance.

  Hate the fact that she’s on the other side of the table.

  I’m desperate to be closer.

  Desperate to show her what I can do with my tongue.

  See her tremble.

  Hear her moan for me…

  See, this is why I shouldn’t have come.

  Eleven times eleven is one twenty-one. Twelve times twelve is one forty-four.

  It’s not working.

  Air. I need air.

  While Evan scolds his sister for putting her hands in the cake and she sassily snaps back that it’s her cake and she can do whatever the hell she wants with it, I head outside.

  Mrs. G stops me halfway, her dark hands filled with plastic plates and a pack of forks wedged into the crook of her arm. An offer to help springs to my tongue, but I swallow it back.

  I’m getting out.

  Going back in will result in me doing something stupid.

  Like striding right past her mother, her brother and everybody… and sucking the frosting off Venus’s perfect, Cupid’s-bow lips.

  “T, where are you going?” Mrs. G slants me a concerned look. “Don’t you want to taste the cake?”

  I do, but not off a freaking plate.

  “Need to make a call.” I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and wave it in her face as evidence.

  “The gallery?”

  “Yeah.” The lie falls uncertainly off my lips.

  She nods. Stares at me like a proud mama bear. “I’m so glad people are recognizing your talent, T. It’s about damn time.”

  I force a smile. Gesture to the door.

  “Oh, right.” She giggles and walks past me to set the plates on the table.

  I keep going. Right through the front door. Out. Past the stoop. Straight onto the basketball court.

  This place is like home to me. My only constant in a world that kept spinning out of control.

  I played ball like hell here, sweat dripping down my face and into my eyes.

  I got my knees, arms, and elbows bruised.

  Got it patched up—Mrs. G crooning about how I should be more careful.

  Papi cheering for me and then equally for Evan from the porch.

  Venus waddling away from her Barbie dolls to hog the ball and demand we include her.

  Back in those days, she was just Evan’s little sister.

  His annoying kid sister.

  The one we complained about constantly.

  The one we hid from so we didn’t have to deal with her.

  We grew up and she was still that little kid to me.

  Six months ago, things started to change.

  No… ‘started to’ makes it sound gradual.

  It wasn’t.

  Things shifted in a second.

  A snap.

  Like I got whacked in the head and wires in my brain fell out of place, nerves got jostled and suddenly, Venus Miller was a woman.

  A woman I wanted so badly it hurt to breathe.

  She’s taken over everything—even this sacred place where I used to shoot hoops for hours until the world made sense.

  Now, when I close my eyes, I see her here. The grown up version. Sitting on the whicker patio sofa. Foot tapping to the Vybz Cartel song in her headphones. Textbook in her hands. Wide smile stretching her cheeks.

  I shake my head.

  Try to dislodge the memories.

  I need the old Troy back—the one who’d be utterly disgusted by any sexual thoughts towards Evan’s kid sister.

  I need a way to get Venus out of my head.

  But I’m running out of ideas. I’ve tried school, work, plowing through women, taking a break from plowing through women.

  It all goes to hell when I see the little twinkle of mischief in her brown eyes. The way the light glistens against her brown skin. The wide lips, that coy, come and get me hair toss. Like she knows how badly I want my hands in her hair and my lips crushing hers.

  The screen door slaps. “Hey.”

  I turn. Face Venus. “Hey.”

  She approaches me, her stride long and confident. Once she’s a couple inches away, she stops and cocks her hip. There’s something in her eyes. Boldness. Like she knows how badly I want her. Like she’s about to drag me to the tool shed, roll that dress up her thighs and beg me to take her.

  I take a step back instead.

  I don’t need this.

  I can’t handle this.

  “Mom told me to bring you cake.”

  My eyes bounce to her empty hands. Back to her eyes. “Where’s the cake?”

  “Get it yourself.”

  “You came all the way out here just to say that?”

  She takes a step forward. “Had to prove a point.”

  “You should be a lawyer.”

  “I hate courtrooms.”

  “But you like winning arguments.”

  She flashes a soft grin. Doesn’t bother denying it.

  Truth is, I have no idea what Venus will be. She’s crazy talented, crazy smart… boy crazy.

  “There’s something I need to ask you.”

  My hands tremble. Kiss me, Troy.

  Be my first, Troy.

  My pants tighten.

  My fingers, my lips, my tongue—every inch of my body wants to be her first.

  Fourteen times fourteen is one ninety-six. Fifteen times fifteen is two twenty-five.

  “Where’s my gift?” She cups her hands and lifts them. Head tilted up, she blinks innocently.

  “Your gift?”

  “Evan said you got paid for that art exhibit. And I already checked in the gift pile. Your gift’s not there.”

  An easy grin twitches my lips.

  That’s so… Venus. Her ability to piece things together is uncanny.

  “What if I said I got you nothing?”

  “Liar.” She surges forward. Her hands flutter around my pants.

  Close.

  Way too close.

  I snag her arms, bind them behind her back, and tug her against my chest.

  It’s a bad move. Touching her like this.

  I can hear her breath thickening. Feel her body trembling. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Eyes darken. I’m almost certain touching me is having the same effect on her.

  Damn. I need to go home. Need a cold shower. Maybe a thousand.

  She tosses her hair. It tickles my chin. Peering at me from the corner of her eye, she whispers, “I felt it.”

  My heart freezes.

  No, she didn’t…

  Not…

  “There’s a box in your left pocket.”

  I push her away.

  She stumbles. Gains her balance quickly. Moves into my personal space again. “Give it to me.”

  “So impatient.” I huff. Dig into my pocket. Hand it over just to get her off my scent, out of my space, before she decides to touch me again and really feels the effect she has on me.

  Venus opens the box and gasps. “Troy…” She pulls out the necklace. It’s gold. Dainty. In the shape of a sun. Inside, it’s got a marble painting of the planet Venus. I did the artwork myself. Took me weeks to get the colors and texture right. She won’t see it unless she looks.

  So she probably won’t ever see it.

  And that suits me just fine.

  Knowing it’s there. Knowing a little piece of my heart will be hanging over hers—is enough.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathes. Turns. Sweeps her hair off her neck. “Put it on.”

  I clear my throat. Push her away. “Ask Evan later.”

  There’s no saving Venus from my filthy thoughts if I touch her again. No holding me back if I feather her hair to the side, wrap my arms around her chest, and lean in to grab that tiny clasp.

  Her eyes narrow in annoyance.

  I pissed her off.

  Not my intention, but it’s for the best.

  To keep my distance.

  To keep my place in this family that accepted me when I had nowhere else to turn.


  The door opens. Jock Guy stands, bracketed in the light. “Venus, what’s taking so long?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He keeps standing in the doorway. Staring at me. Hands on his hips. Eyes boring into my back like he can read every dirty thought in my head and wants to clobber me for it.

  Venus lifts a hand at him. “Just give me a minute, Bruce.”

  His name is Bruce? Wow.

  Bruce grudgingly steps back and closes the door.

  Venus turns to me. Her eyes are gleaming. “It’s my birthday.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s my birthday, Troy.” She says it again like it’s supposed to mean something. Like I’m supposed to do something.

  I’m just barely restraining myself right now.

  What the hell does she expect from me?

  Venus shakes her head. Steps forward. “Don’t move.”

  I look down at her. At the determination in her eyes.

  She grabs my chin. Her fingers dig into my jaw.

  The wind picks up. Tugs my too-long hair and bats it around my forehead.

  Venus pulls my head down and presses a long, lingering kiss on my cheek. The slight dampness of her mouth sizzles against the heat of my skin. Maroon-painted lips graze over my stubble as she takes her sweet, slow time pulling back.

  Her flowery fragrance surrounds me.

  Her eyes are closed.

  My heart is pounding against my chest.

  It’s the most sensual cheek kiss in the history of humanity.

  “Happy birthday to me,” she murmurs.

  “Venus…”

  “Thanks for the necklace.” She holds the box high and struts back to the house.