Uncovering Stone Read online

  Uncovering Stone

  T. Saint John

  Copyright Info

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales are purely coincidental.

  Uncovering Stone

  Copyright © 2015 Trina San Juan

  All rights reserved.

  Cover photos owned by Trina San Juan and Eric McKinney. You may not copy these photos without written permission of its owners.

  All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or photos herein is prohibited without the express written consent of the author.

  First eBook edition 2015

  Kindle edition

  Acknowledgements

  Photographer – Eric McKinny https://www.facebook.com/PhotographyByEricMcKinney

  Cover Model – Jon Salvador https://www.facebook.com/jonsalvadorfit

  Cover Designer – Monica Holloway https://www.facebook.com/catseyeeditinganddesign

  Bloggers –

  https://www.facebook.com/HeadtrippingBook

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Panty-dropping-Book-Blog

  https://www.facebook.com/BookHeathens

  http://kaiasbooklovers.blogspot.com/

  Thanks

  First, I want to say thanks to my husband. I love you. I don’t want to get all gushy because it would only embarrass you, but I do what you to know just how much it means to me that you are supporting me on this crazy dream.

  To my sister-in-laws T & M…I know you both spent a lot of time kicking and screaming about having to do this. But you all stuck with me and I love you both.

  Natasha Harvey, there aren’t enough words in the English language to express my thanks. I can only simply say I love you. You’re my go to person. My jack of all trades. Loud mouth, sounding board, and a good friend. Your ideas are awesome and has helped me bring so much life to Evan’s story. And I’ve said it a million times, if the only thing this book brings me is our friendship, it’s enough. Though I would like to make enough to come see you some day.

  Noelle, again you’ve stuck with me and I’m not sure why. Thank you for having my back and always being there to help me out of the corners I’ve backed myself into.

  To my stalkers – Kellie, Juley, Wendy, Nic, and Neidy. You girls ROCK! You’re the laughter I need, the friendship I need, and the pimps I need.

  To a couple Beta-Readers/Proofreaders – thank you, Nancy Tulloch, Jeanne Jimenez, Tricia Riley, and Mary Stanford. I’m so happy you girls are there to give me advice and encouragement.

  To a reader who offered to make me swag because she loved my books – Teri Clark Burgess. I also can’t tell you what it means for a complete stranger to step up and offer such support.

  And to bloggers who have been so supportive to me – Karrie Puskas, Yohanna Baez, Alicia Marietta, Kareen Laurent, Amy McGlone, and Tonya Nagle. Thanks for taking a chance on my books and for bringing me new readers.

  Lastly but certainly not least, my readers. All of you, thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 1

  Evan

  The moment I first saw her is forever etched into my memory. It was July 7th, at Noah’s thirty-fifth birthday celebration. I was annoyed that he chose Hansons, our usual hangout. I figured since this was a special occasion, we would go somewhere else. Little did I know that he had another reason for wanting to go there that night. Molly—the girl he was falling for—was going to be there.

  The second my brother and I walked into the bar, I spotted my hook-up for the night. This girl seemed to just be having a good time out on the dance floor. Unlike some of the women, she wasn’t scanning the bar for a free beer and a bang. Maybe the reason she wasn’t looking was because she’s insecure or shy. Why I cared, I don’t know. Insecure women have always grated on my nerves and shy girls just never appealed to me. The women I typically fuck are fast and easy. This girl is neither of those, but I was still drawn to her—maybe it’s because there’s nothing I love more than a challenge.

  My plans for that night were foiled by a bar fight between Molly and some prick. Noah insisted I take Molly back to his place and wait for him to get there. Thankfully, he got home in time for me to head straight back to Hansons. I thought I’d just go in and get her to leave with me. Instead, I wound up sitting at the bar with a full view of her table, where I could study her without being obviously creepy. She had beautiful blonde hair that ended at her shoulders. She’s short—I’m talking maybe 5’0”. No doubt about it, though, she’s all woman—with perfect hips, a flat stomach, and excellent tits. There was an edge to her look, though nothing remarkable. With her gray T-shirt and jean shorts, she looked like any other plain Jane. So what was it about her? What’s the draw? When I looked at her again, I realized I must have been wrong—she’s just cute and shy, which was not my type at all. Disappointed, I looked to the end of the bar and saw a knockout with long dark hair and dark eyes. This woman had an exotic look, and she looked like someone who knew how to have a good time. Perfect.

  Forgetting about the blonde, I made my way over to my new target and called over the bartender, Erica.

  “What can I get you, Evan?” she asked.

  I looked to the girl next to me. “What are you drinking?”

  “Whatever you’re buying,” she replied with a flirtatious smile.

  “Two Godfathers, please,” I said to Erica.

  “Coming up.”

  “I’ve never heard of that drink,” said the brunette, still smiling.

  “It’s just bourbon and amaretto,” I replied.

  “You trying to get me drunk?” she teased.

  “Do you need to be drunk for me to take you to the bathroom?”

  “Not tonight, I wouldn’t,” she said with a wink.

  “Erica, hold the drinks. She’ll be right back.” I placed my money down on the bar paying for both drinks. I already knew I wouldn’t be coming back to sit with her. We both stood up and made our way to the restrooms. As I was pulling her into the men’s room, she stopped me.

  “The women’s has a big stall. The men’s don’t.”

  Alright, that worked for me. Obviously, she had done this before, which meant walking out the door afterwards would be easier. She wouldn’t be asking to exchange numbers like most women try to do.

  “Lead the way.” I watched as she peeked in the door.

  “All clear,” she said, “come on. By the way, I’m Vickie.” She grabbed my hand and led me into the stall.

  The second the door shut, I bit her lip and we started kissing. My cock hardened as she stroked it up and down with her hand. Clearly, this girl was a perfect one night stand. She moved fast and knew exactly what she wanted. It tur
ned me off, though, when she tried to tell me what to do. The girl needed to learn quickly that I’m always in control when sex is involved. I spun her around, pressed her against the wall, and grabbed a fistful of her hair as I pushed my cock against her ass.

  “Listen, Vickie, we do this my way.” As I was pulling her hair back farther, the stall door opened. It was the blonde that had me coming back there that night.

  “Oh shit! I’m sorry,” she said as she turned away, looking embarrassed.

  That impulse to fuck her was back, so I let go of Vickie and turned my head to face her. I cocked my eyebrow and said, “There’s room for one more if you’re interested.” I watched her as she blushed scarlet. I wanted to tell her I’d happily get rid of this brunette bitch if she wanted me to fuck her.

  “Oh...uh...” was all she managed before she shut the door and left.

  “Well, that was awkward,” said Vickie.

  Even though it was only a brief interruption, I was done with the night and this girl. Without a word, I walked out of the bathroom and headed straight for the exit.

  Before walking out, I looked back to get one last glimpse at the blonde. She shot back an ‘I hate you’ glare, and for some reason, it made me laugh. I simply nodded and went out the door.

  Had I known the amount of time I would spend obsessing about her, I wouldn’t have gone back to the bar that night.

  Lani

  Evan Stone is a man I try to avoid at all cost. If I could pick only one word to describe him, it would be aggressive. Or sexy. No, wait—dominating. The first run in I had with him was at the bar when he had some girl pressed against the wall and her hair fisted in his hands. I almost asked if she was alright because of what I went through in high school, but when she rolled her eyes at me, I knew it wasn’t rape. She wanted to be there. When he asked me to join them, the look on her face told me I wasn’t welcome. Not that I was interested. I wasn’t. I’m not into that kind of stuff. I can’t even read about it in books. My therapist calls it triggers. Evan Stone—though he didn’t know anything about me—caused those triggers. I know he didn’t mean to, but that’s exactly what he did. In my first encounters with Evan, he spoke at me in an aggressive fashion, so I met that aggression with my own. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was weak. I’m not really sure why I cared what he thought, but I did. And sadly, I still do.

  Over the past year, I watched him step up and help Kerrigan without question or payment. It made me start seeing him in a different light. On one hand, Evan Stone is everything I ever wanted—compassionate, honest, protective, and gorgeous. On the other, he’s a puzzle that’s hard to figure out. He’s mysterious, which I sometimes find appealing, but there’s a darkness he lets seep through that has me running for the hills. My guess is, not even his brothers know him completely.

  Tonight is my best friend Kerrigan’s going away party. She’s moving to Kentucky to deal with everything that’s going on inside her. While I understand her need to go, I’m not happy about it. Not only do I hate not being able to help her, but I’m also losing the only person that I trust. Kerrigan is the only one who knows everything about me and I’m the only one who knows all about her. Unfortunately, our friendship is deeply rooted in secrets and shame. Our lives would be very different if it wasn’t for that one night at the high school party.

  I knew who Kerrigan was in high school. She was the beautiful, popular head cheerleader, who was every guy’s wet dream. Me, on the other hand—I was short, wore thick glasses, and had an overbite that took years of wearing braces to correct. The summer before my junior year, my braces finally came off, and I got contacts. I felt like a completely different person—I felt pretty. It was the first year I looked forward to going back to school.

  When school started and no one took notice my new look, I was disappointed. I worried that maybe it was just me. That no matter what I did or how I dressed, I would always be ugly. As the school year went along, the boys began paying attention to me. It wasn’t the kind of attention that the boys were giving Kerrigan, but at least they acknowledged that I existed.

  The week before spring break, everyone at school was gossiping about ‘the party of all parties’. Of course, I wanted to go, and so I did. It was held at a huge house on the lake—the music was loud, drinks were everywhere, and people were making out in every corner. I realized within the first thirty minutes that I didn’t want to be cool if acting like this is what it took. Kerrigan was also there, dancing and having a good time. I was shocked to see that she was dismissing all the boys who approached her—it was the first time I realized that she didn’t respond to any of the attempts to hit on her.

  I wanted to be relaxed and confident like Kerrigan seemed, so I decided to grab a beer. I began to loosen up after finishing a bottle and was about to grab another when a boy approached me. He introduced himself as Michael, and he was both good-looking and friendly. He offered me a drink and we found a place to talk. Within a few minutes, I started to feel lightheaded. Michael left to get more drinks, but as I waited for him to return, my condition worsened. I stumbled on my way up the stairs, trying to find a bathroom. As I was opening doors, I found the one that led to hell. I can still feel their hands on me, still smell the beer, and still relive that night.

  I do my best to pull myself out of the memory before it paralyzes me with fear and anxiety. I suddenly have the urge to call Jase. Instead, I hop into shower and get ready to go out. For some reason, every time I relive that night, I call him. Maybe it’s because I need to be reminded that not all men are animals. I met Jase a few years ago, he’s an accountant at my parents’ hotel. Kerrigan used to tease me that he’s nerdy. He is, but he’s safe and he keeps my bed warm whenever I need him to. Being with him means the same thing every time—me going down on him, him not returning the favor, and 5 minutes of average sex. But, at least, I don’t feel threatened.

  I’m looking in my closet and having great difficulty deciding what to wear. As much as I don’t want to be with Evan, part of me wants him looking at me. I’m so confused. No, actually, I’m scared—scared that if I allow myself to fall for him, he’ll quickly get bored with me because I can’t do rough. I could never surrender control, and Evan is a control freak. Dammit. I end up talking myself into wearing a cute, black mini-skirt, a white button-up and a black tank top underneath. Yes, I definitely want attention from Evan. How fucked up is that? I don’t want him, but I want him. I hate women like me. Well, at least I know I’m not leading Evan on. I’ve told him to leave me alone every chance I’ve had.

  Hansons is busy tonight. I see the usual group there except Kerrigan and Ari. The only open seat is next to Evan. Shit. I want to pull the seat out from under Brayden and sit there, but I won’t, so I head to the table and sit next to Evan. He doesn’t acknowledge me. Maybe he’s finally moved on? Why does that disappoint me? Being in such close proximity, I can smell him. His scent is so powerful and clean, he must have recently showered. Suddenly, thoughts of Evan naked in the shower fill my head. Dammit, Lani, stop! He isn’t what you want or need in your life. I have to keep reminding myself that Evan spells trouble.

  Thankfully, Kerrigan and Ari show up, and after a few minutes, the girls head to the dance floor. I happily leave Evan’s side because I could not stop myself from shifting in my seat so I could “accidently” touch him. I hate that I’m a 28-year-old woman, acting like a 15-year-old girl with a crush.

  Evan

  Alani is playing games with me. That bitch may tell me she doesn’t want me, but she does. I could feel her moving around, trying to get close enough to touch me. It’s pissing me off—she’s a grown woman. Why can’t she just say, ‘Evan, can I touch your cock?’ The answer will always be yes. I’ve decided to make my move tonight. Watching her on the dance floor, I notice she’s doing what she always does. She dances in the center of the girls so no one can see. Molly is due any day, so I can’t see around her stomach to get a better glimpse of Alani. Noah needs to stop
knocking up his wife. I love my nephew and I love the new one on the way, but I hope they’ll be done after this. Kids annoy the shit out of me. Okay, Landon doesn’t—he’s such a badass. I’ve already started teaching him everything I know about women, which I used to think was a lot. Now, I realize that I don’t know jack shit about women since the only woman I’ve ever been crazy over, is a bitch. Maybe I should stop talking to Landon about women because I don’t want him going through the same mental fuck Alani’s been putting me through. The music slows and the guys go to claim their women. I really want to stand up and ask her to dance, but Alani has done a number on me time and time again. Every time she opens her fucking mouth, she cuts me in a way that no one else has ever done. It’s why I head straight to Zig’s Tattoo and Piercing after every run in with her. I get off on the pain she inflicts on me. Of course, if we ever end up together, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do. The day she accused me of only caring about money, I got my first tattoo. I had ‘LANI’ written across my chest. It’s a good thing I had it done in all capital letters since I later found out her name is Alani and I just had the A added. Over time, I added other words to the tattoo. When she was in the hospital and asked what I was doing there, I added the word ‘Bitch’ under her name. There were a few occasions when she gave me a small smile, and I added the words ‘Hope’, ‘Need’, and ‘Obsessed’. And yes, I am obsessed with her—the very definition of obsession is the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings. I don’t know what my next tattoo will say, but I’m about to find out as the group starts talking again.