Burning Flowers
Authors: June Beyoki
Tags: #modern romance, #romance short stories, #contemporary romance series, #romance for adults, #romance and flowers, #romance ebook series
June Beyoki
Copyright 2015 June Beyoki
All rights reserved
Without limiting the rights
under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written
permission of the above author of this book. This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents
are either the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead,
locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
To Michael whom I cherish and love
always,
and to my children, David and Crystal, who
make life wonderful.
Prologue
Clarke's childhood was defined by a mystery
absentee father and a harsh mother. Now in her 30s, she is
virtually emotionally unavailable and high strung, still trying to
please her mother by finding success in the flower business. Her
only comfort is in the many men she has few fleeting moments
with.
After a fire threatens to ruin her flower
shop, she meets a carefree young man named Vince. At first, his
personality irritates her, but he comes in handy when her mother
shows up at the store to snoop around.
Chapter One
Clarke Bennett ran her fingers through her hair, twirling her
Shirley Temple curls around her index finger. At only seven years
old she was already beautiful with long lashes, perfect blonde
curls and bright blue eyes. She’d heard people tell her she was
going to grow up to look like an old world movie star like Marilyn
Monroe or Bette Davis. But for some reason, her mother would always
get mad at that and tell people if they kept it up Clarke would get
a big head.
Clarke skipped around the house while her
mother unpacked. They had just moved to a new home from their dingy
old apartment after her mother landed some big job. She’d been a
lawyer for years, but now she got a break at a big trial firm.
Clarke was already loving all the space at the new place, but her
mother kept shooting her dirty looks. At any point Clarke expected
her to yell and make her stop skipping around and messing with her
hair. If there was anything her mother hated more than anything it
was tom foolery.
Clarke skipped her way into the master
bedroom where her mother’s things were sitting in boxes everywhere
other than the few clothes that were laid out on the bed. She
smelled of the perfumes and shampoos in the box next to her
mother’s vanity, and then ran her fingers across the soft materials
of her mother’s dresses. Her mother seemed to collect expensive and
beautiful things, but she was pretty much never allowed to touch
them.
Clarke sat down on the floor in front of one
of the boxes and began unpacking it, hoping that it might make her
mother happy to see her helping out. The box was mostly jewelry and
odds and ends her mother kept on her nightstand. Clarke carefully
put everything away where she knew her mother had kept them at the
apartment. She knew her mother was going to be so surprised and
pleased when she saw Clarke had put away all her things.
Then, at the bottom of the box, Clarke found
a gold picture frame with an old photo in it. She had to blow off
the dust to make anything out. It was a picture of a couple
standing in front of a large ferris wheel, like at a carnival. As
Clarke squinted, she realized the woman in the photo was a younger
version of her mother. The woman had a smile on her face like
Clarke had never seen, and her hair was down to her shoulder
instead of in the short boyish cut she kept it in now.
Next to her was a tall, happy-looking man
who had his arm around her. He had blonde hair and blue eyes just
like Clarke. She instantly knew it must be a picture of her father.
She’d always wondered about him, but she’d never had the courage to
ask.
She picked up the picture and skipped back
into the living room where she found her mother setting up a
bookshelf they’d bought from the thrift store. “Mama, mama!” she
called in excitement. “Look what I found.”
Her mother wiped sweat off her brow and
looked at Clarke with frustration. “Clarke, can’t you see I’m
busy?” she asked harshly, but Clarke passed her the photo
anyway.
“Is this my daddy?” Clarke pointed to the
man in the photo, and she saw her mother’s expression change just
for a moment before it went sour again. Her mother stayed silent
for a moment like she hoped Clarke would go away or maybe the
question would answer itself. But Clarke stood her ground, shaking
the photo at her. So, her mother snatched the photo away and threw
it in a pile of trash she was keeping to her right.
“He was a quitter, Clarke,” she said
matter-of-factly, not even looking up at her daughter when she did.
She still hadn’t admitted for sure that it was her father.
“I look like him,” Clarke said quietly.
“Well, then you better change it. He’s not
the kind of man you want anything in common with,” her mother spat
at her.
Clarke couldn’t stop the tears from running
down her cheeks at her mother’s words, but her mother ignored it.
“Forget about it, Clarke. This is a new life here, and we’re never
looking back. We’re going to be important here, and it’s all
because I worked hard to get here. So wipe those up and hold your
head high. Things are going to change around here.” As Mrs. Bennett
spoke, she looked up as if she was seeing something that wasn’t
there; a dream of a future that she’d always wanted. One that her
own daughter didn’t seem to fit into.
Chapter Two
***26 years later***
Clarke looked at the man in front of her and
let a sly grin spread across her face. She ran her hand down his
bare chest all the way down to his bellybutton before running her
fingers through his thick black hair. She circled him, her
fingertip just barely trailing along his skin while she licked her
lips.
Then, she stood before him in her pink lace
panties and bra before slowly removing them, putting on a show for
him. Her C cups spilled out into the open, and she watched as his
eyes bounced with them before she reached down to hook her thumbs
in each side of her panties to slide them to the floor. She kicked
them off to land at his feet and stood before him with her pink
skin completely bare.
There was a look of both lust and a slight
buzz in his eyes from the wine they’d consumed as she pressed her
body up against him. The warmth of their heat made her shiver
before she pulled away.
She bit her bottom lip suggestively before
climbing into the bed and sliding backward, never losing eye
contact. She spread her legs, giving him a great view. Then, he
followed her to the bed on his knees like a puppy dog on a leash.
Clarke pulled up on her elbows to glance at his long shaft standing
at attention for her. He positioned himself on his knees between
her legs, moving his fingers to explore her thighs and stroke her
throbbing clit.
Clarke closed her eyes as the muscular man
in front of her slid his hard cock into her wet pussy. She felt an
instant release, and it was so comforting to be under someone’s
strong body like that; in a man’s arms being taken care of in the
best way possible. She moaned as he slammed his cock relentlessly
into her, hitting her g-spot with precision and digging deeper,
filling her up. Her tits slapped against her chest as he
continuously rocked her body back and forth, sending sheets rumbled
to the floor as her curly hair was made staticky by sliding up and
down on the pillow.
He placed his hands under her buttocks and
lifted her hips, forcing her ass and legs into the air as he
wrapped her legs around him. He squeezed her buttocks and slammed
his hard cock deeper inside of her repeatedly until her moaned
loudly. “Oh god!” she called out over and over as the thrusting
caused the headboard to creek and bang up against the wall.
The man grunted and panted as her pussy
began to squeeze tightly around him, choking his hard member as she
began to reach her climax. The wave of pleasure came up her shaking
legs into her thighs until it reached its height in her center,
pulsating inside of her.
“Oh shit!” the man called out, getting to
that point himself. Then, he slowly pulled out of her and rolled
over on his back, panting. Clarke lay down next to him at the edge
of the bed, covering up with the sheet.
Sex has been the best stress relief for
Clarke as it gave her a sense of empowerment over the feeling of
self-worthlessness instilled by her mother. Her mother has never
proud of Clarke and whatever she does has never ever been good
enough.
***
Clarke walked down the aisle with flower
petals at her feet. She looked down, trying not to trip on her long
gown in her high white heels. It was easier said than done, but she
tried her very best not to wobble or lose her balance. Everything
about her wedding day was perfect. The chairs were all white and
decorated with yellow and orange flowers, and every single person
had walked down the aisle to the music at just the right pace. The
whole thing was evenly spaced. But as she got to the end, she
realized the man standing there was completely faceless. She
couldn’t tell if he was excited to see her or if he was about to
object to their union.
But she shook it off and finished the walk,
standing there facing the unknown man. She could feel the perfect
even smile on her face as she looked at the hole where his face
should be. The preacher stepped up and asked who gave her away to
the man. She waited patiently, but no one stood up for her.
The preacher leaned down and whispered in
her ear. “Where’s your father, dear?” The old man smelled strongly
of earwax, but his voice was sweet. It was what he asked that made
a fear come over her like never before.
“
I don’t have one,” she admitted, looking
around, feeling the heat of embarrassment on her face. “He left
when I was a baby.” She wasn’t sure why she said that out loud, but
maybe it would make her look less at fault for not having anyone to
give her away.
“
Surely you have a mother then, dear. I’m
sure she could do the job just fine,” the man said, looking around
as if her mother would just appear and make it all better. But if
Clarke knew anything, she knew her mother would only make things
worse.
“
No, please, there must be another way,”
Clarke begged, looking apologetically at the crowd. “Can’t I just
give myself away?” And then Clarke saw her and froze. She would
give up anything not to deal with her. Mrs. Bennett was so angry
she had begun morphing into a half dragon, half human creature of
some kind, and fire was spewing from her nostrils. That was the
moment Clarke knew it was dream, but it didn’t make it any less
terrifying as the woman stomped towards her.
***
Clarke woke up in a cold sweat and looked
around to see the one story, brick house she’d worked so hard to
afford surrounding her. She turned to her right and scooped up the
clothes she’d set out for herself the night before and began
pulling them on one piece at a time.
It wasn’t the first dream she’d had like
that, and she knew if she told anyone they’d probably tell her she
needed to see a therapist. But she knew for sure that a therapist
couldn’t handle her problems. They’d run away screaming. Besides,
Clarke was more than aware of what her flaws were; she didn’t need
someone with a degree in sympathy for crazy people listing them for
her. One day, they’d either work themselves out, or she’d be the
cat lady that all the little kids were scared of.
She tiptoed into her bedroom and went to the
vanity that bridged the gap between the bathroom and the main part
of the bedroom. She flipped on the switch to her straightener and
went to find some shoes in the closet. After her dream she was
totally over heels, so she just settled for some flats. She didn’t
feel short enough to worry about that kind of thing anyway.