Velvet kisses, p.1
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       Velvet Kisses, p.1

           Addison Moore
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Velvet Kisses


  Velvet Kisses

  3:AM Kisses 6

  Addison Moore

  Contents

  Copyright

  Books by Addison Moore

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  1. One Night Stand-offish

  2. Wyatt

  3. Man of my Inappropriate Dreams

  4. Wyatt

  5. Good Vibrations

  6. Wyatt

  7. I’m with Cupid

  8. Wyatt

  9. Come One Come All

  10. Wyatt

  11. What’s Love Got to do With It?

  12. Wyatt

  13. Claim to Fame, Walk of Shame

  14. Wyatt

  15. A Note from the Author

  Books by Addison Moore

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  © 2015 ADDISON MOORE

  Edited by: Sarah Freese

  Cover Design by: Gaffey Media

  http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase any addition copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2015 by Addison Moore

  Created with Vellum

  Books by Addison Moore

  New Adult Romance

  3:AM Kisses (3:AM Kisses 1)

  Winter Kisses (3:AM Kisses 2)

  Sugar Kisses (3:AM Kisses 3)

  Whiskey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 4)

  Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5)

  Velvet Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6)

  Burning Through Gravity (Burning Through Gravity 1)

  A Thousand Starry Nights (Burning Through Gravity 2) 2015

  Fire in an Amber Sky (Burning Through Gravity 3) 2015

  Beautiful Oblivion (Beautiful Oblivion 1)

  Beautiful Illusions (Beautiful Oblivion 2)

  Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion 3) 2015

  The Solitude of Passion

  Someone to Love (Someone to Love 1)

  Someone Like You (Someone to Love 2)

  Someone For Me (Someone to Love 3)

  Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)

  The Dragon and the Rose (Celestra Forever After 2)

  The Serpentine Butterfly (Celestra Forever After 3) 2015

  Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)

  Young Adult Romance

  Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)

  Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)

  Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)

  Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)

  Vex (Celestra Series Book 5)

  Expel (Celestra Series Book 6)

  Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)

  Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5)

  Elysian (Celestra Series Book 8)

  Ephemeral (The Countenance Trilogy 1)

  Evanescent (The Countenance Trilogy 2)

  Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3)

  Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights)

  Re: Sign in the window

  From: AdmiralPete’sFishandChips@hotmail.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Dear Ms. Jackson,

  Per your incessant request “to let you know either way” I regret to inform you that Admiral Pete’s Fish and Chips will not be able to employ you as an “esteemed Ivy League Gentlemen’s Broker” who is poised to lure men with “bank” to the bar, and “weed potential douchebags from the mix.” We, at Admiral Pete’s, value our patrons and appreciate them from all walks of life. The position available is for fry cook. I’m afraid your thoughts on wearing your bikini to work might put you at potential risk for a third degree flesh burn.

  Best of luck in your future endeavors,

  Day Shift Supervisor,

  Kirk Hudson

  Admiral Pete’s Fish and Chips

  Re: NEED JOB NOW!!!

  From: HollowBrookSavingsandLoans@gmail.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Certified and FDIC Insured

  Banking you can trust.

  Ms. Marley Jackson,

  Thank you for your interest in seeking employment at our Hollow Brook branch. However, I must inform you that we have never, nor will we ever, solicit to fulfill the position of “skilled escort mediator.”

  Although we here at the managerial branch find it compelling you have compiled data that pairs women with the most fiscally sound prospects, with the promised “bonus of free background checks!” our legal department has advised us to refrain from entertaining the idea any further.

  And, to answer your query, no, the free toaster you obtained from opening up yet a third checking account cannot be redeemed for cash value or as payment for overdraft fees.

  Regards, Clancy Thomas

  Branch Manager

  Re: An investment opportunity!

  From: TheHighlandsArtGallery@gmail.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Ms. Jackson,

  Thank you for “swinging by on the way to the killer shoe sale at Norman’s.” We are thrilled you had the opportunity to “check out some cool stuff” upon your visit. I was a bit surprised to see the twenty-point bulletin you took upon yourself to send regarding ways to improve floor traffic to the “dead space” we seem to occupy.

  I’m sure an espresso bar would, as you suggest, “liven up the atmosphere,” as well as tables and free wireless service for those customers who like to “bring their laptops and squat for the afternoon while writing that last minute paper;” however, I’m afraid it would detract from the purpose of our gallery. I’m also hesitant to believe that a trio of attractive baristas would, as you suggest, “seduce the right clientele.” We, here at the Highlands Art Gallery, are most interested in serious investors for our collections, not so much the college freshman who has a last minute paper due in Lit.

  Thank you for the opportunity to review your well-detailed plan of how to improve upon our services and thus “really make some bank!”

  We are most certainly declining your offer.

  P.S. Thank you for your suggestion on which cleaning solutions might work best to remove “all the little spots” from “that one painting.” It was auctioned off last week for a sum of 1.7 million dollars.

  Keep yourself and your solvents away from my studio.

  Benjamin Hathaway

  Licensed Distributor of Fine Art and Luxuries

  Re: Let’s do this!

  From: AlphaChi@edu.net

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Marley,

  Get a grip. We are not coughing up some serious cash to have you pose as a wardrobe consultant in order to help us “set the net.” We here at Alpha Chi are dedicated to the learning experience and have risen above, “scoring with cute frat boys who have a future revenue prospect of most small island nations.”

  I also want to let you know that your five-step plan to convert a “matronly bookworm” into a “sex kitten in heels” has really pissed off the majority. They totally feel it’s people lik
e you who set back feminism by merely breathing the same air as the rest of us.

  BTW, I am totally not pissed at you. Feel free to slip your five-point brochure in my private mailbox ASAP! You’re totally not going to charge me, right? We’re like, friends.

  ~ C

  Re: Employment wanted

  From: Banning&TateAdvertisingAgency@msn.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Ms. Marley Jackson,

  Thank you for pointing out the primitive working conditions that exist here in our home office. No, we are not looking to replace our “garage sale” grade furnishings with something trendy that might inspire chic clientele. We tend to pride ourselves on our minimalist décor that includes recycled furnishings and flooring. While we appreciate your efforts to “launch us into the 21st century in style,” the position open was intended to draw the attention of a graphics designer rather than an interior decorator.

  Best of luck in your redecorating endeavors,

  Oliver Tate

  Re: Innovative marketing offer

  From: TomsApplianceEmporium@gmail.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Marley,

  While we appreciate your thoughts on introducing a bikini-clad hostess to our showroom floor, we regretfully have decided to pass on your offer as we feel this might affront the majority of our clients. Thank you for including your Facebook avatar as an attachment. We have no doubt you would make a fine addition to any showroom willing to “share a little cleavage.” We feel it is in the best interest of our customers to protect them from such voyeuristic trials.

  Do not, I repeat, do not send a portfolio of yourself in an assortment of swimwear. This will not be necessary.

  Best,

  Nancy Lancaster (Tom’s wife)

  P.S. Set foot in my store in a two-piece and see how fast I demonstrate the fact rotary blades on a kitchen mixer can double as throwing stars.

  Just try me.

  Re: Former student ready to give back!

  From: CarringtonElementarySchool@hotmail.com

  To: Marleyfromthevalley94@yahoo.com

  Ms. Jackson,

  Thank you for the generous proposal to come in and read quality stories to our children at the low price of fifteen dollars an hour on an ongoing rotating basis. While the offer to “read as many library books as you can cram into their little brains” sounds tempting—sadly our budget doesn’t allow for such extravagances. However, I am most impressed that you can “squeal like a mouse” if need be. A talent that I’m sure will come in handy some day soon. I see big things in your future.

  And, as far as erecting a hot dog cart outside of the “barfeteria,” that, too, is a hard no. I’m proud to say we have updated our menu options since you were last a student at this fine establishment. We no longer serve “thick noodle worms” or “mystery mush that smells like feet.”

  Wishing you much success,

  Principal Warnecki

  One Night Stand-offish

  Marley

  “Somebody is going to get laid,” I whisper, curling my finger directly at the tall, dark, and handsome, expensive suit wearing stranger I’ve been trying to net as my first one-night stand of the evening. Of the evening? Actually I’m only planning the one. This is new STD-riddled terrain for me, thus the verbiage snafu. I’m sure there will be a missionary¸ oral, and perhaps anal snafu later this evening as well. Scratch that. There will never, ever be an anal snafu. Although, in keeping with the theme in my life, I’m sure I’ll have an entire series of snafus to look forward to from this night on until death do I part. Considering I’ve built my existence one snafu at a time it only stands to reason.

  The front door to the Black Bear Saloon opens and closes at regular intervals ushering in the near freezing temperatures, a sure relief to those bathing in the sea of humanity. The 12 Deadly Sins are still going strong. They have every coed and frat boy in the bar dancing and thrashing in a mad drunken frenzy.

  I watch as my roommate, Annie, wraps her arms around her boyfriend Blake, who happens to be the lead singer of the aforementioned trespasses. I’m so happy for Annie, I lose track of the task at hand for a moment. Annie has been deaf her entire life, and, thanks to high tech implants, she has some of her hearing now. It’s a miracle, and, believe me, no one deserves a miracle more than Annie. She’s the definition of a kindhearted, soul. Her boyfriend, however, is the definition of here comes trouble, thus perpetuating the fact opposites really do attract. Blake is your typical rocker bad-boy with a heart of gold and apparently with a newborn on the side, but that’s another story. Annie’s happily ever after has a bit of a modern day twist.

  I’m sort of working on a happily ever after of my own—technically I’m working on a happily ever next couple of hours. As far as my life is concerned I’m not expecting some sappy forever after or any of that other fairytale bullshit. I’m a realist when it comes to that four-letter word everyone in the world seems to wield so easily—love. True love is for other people—people like Annie and Izzy and just about everyone who works at this damn bar. It’s as if some rabid epidemic went amuck and infected everyone in the facility but me. Nope definitely not me.

  I’m a product of Walleye, a dirty small town in the valley that even the homeless struggle to flee from. It edges Hollow Brook like some distant slutty cousin. Which isn’t exactly saying nice things about the town I grew up in, but when just about every girl in my high school sported a baby bump at prom, even the Parent Teacher Association was forced to face the fact they might have a problem. I believe the term they used was “epidemic.” While the students rallied for OBGYN services in the health department, parents lobbied for condom dispensers to be placed next to the fruit vending machines.

  Yet, somehow, I managed to graduate fetus-free! (as my mother gushed) and, in the process, maintained an impressive GPA thus landing myself a scholarship to the esteemed Whitney Briggs University, playground to the children of the rich and infamous. My parents may not fall in the rich category, but they sure do give the infamous a run for their Swiss-bank-account-heavily-tax-sheltered money. Edward Cecil Jackson, my father, has been in and out of prison on armed robbery charges for the entire length of my life—holding up liquor stores and gas stations alike. And, for the most part, he always managed to elude authorities with the exception of the odd credit union. It was always the bank heists that managed to trip him up and end a stream of illegal revenue that my family had come to depend on, but I digress.

  The music drifts from the speakers as the 12 Deadly Sins finish their set for the night. Blake ends his last song with an “I love you” to Annie as he holds her in his arms and they sway their conjoined hips into the proverbial sunset. If she wasn’t my closest friend at Whitney Briggs, I would have long since barfed up the back-to-back nachos I’ve spent the majority of the night noshing on.

  Why couldn’t I be the one dancing off into the proverbial sunset right alongside Annie? Why couldn’t that hornet’s ass I dated for the last two years, William Abbey Richie, keep his wandering pants zipped for five solid minutes? Hard questions for a Saturday night.

  Annie’s face turns twelve shades of pink, and, if I had to guess, those sweet nothings Blake is whispering are a bit pornographic in nature.

  See? If only Will would’ve kept his middle stump pointed in my direction, he could be whispering all sorts of pornographic things to me right now.

  Will. Even the memory of him leaves a horrible taste in my mouth like sucking on a bucket full of rusty pennies.

  I finally managed to tell my mother and, Jemma, my slightly psychotic yet well-meaning sister, about the break up. Jemma has had her fair share of mangled relationships. She has a variety of kids with a variety of fathers. Jemma is a can of twisted worms all on her own. My mother just rolls her eyes when men walk out of Jemma’s life, but, when I told her that Will cheated on me, she clutched her chest dramatically informing me I was “cuckold.” If cuckold is code for “your
boyfriend just went on a coed fucking spree,” then yes, Will very much cuckold me in the most heart-wrenching manner.

  I knew it would be hard for us going to different universities, in different states no less, but like a good, wide-eyed, unassuming girlfriend, I trusted him. I gifted him my heart two years ago and then six months after that my virginity. It turns out collecting V-Cards is something that William Abigail—whatever his highbrow middle name is—Richie does best. It’s true I don’t quite remember his middle name. Honestly all I remember thinking at the time he told me was holy hell that’s a girl’s name! I was drunk off the idea that this gorgeous, incredibly rich (as his last name attests) boy would want anything to do with me. Turns out he just wanted to do me—along with a few other people, of course. I was simply standing in a very long line of “things/people to do.” Apparently he does “it” quite a lot—so much so that he’s officially a card-carrying member of Assholes United, an exclusive club that only cheating boyfriends belong to.

  It’s his fault I’ve decided to eschew relationships for the time being (the words time being and lifespan are interchangeable). Everything that’s wrong in my life is Will’s fault at this point. It’s his fault I’m alone on a Saturday night. It’s his fault I’ve shattered my heart and ego to shards. It’s his fault I’ve developed a slightly skewed yet alarmingly real rage toward anyone with a dangling appendage in general. It’s most certainly Will’s fault that I’ve paired my pricey convertible fit and flare dress (better suited for temperatures in the triple digits) with an unfortunate pair of bright blue patent heels that peacock for attention. I thought red might scream desperate and perhaps suggest a cash exchange for the adventure I’m about to embark on because on this fine night I’ve set my mind, and my vagina, on staking out a one-night stand.

 
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