Just A Step Away (Closer)

Copyright © 2013 by Flora Roberts

Malfunction Erotica

(The House of Malfunction)

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

Edited by:  K. Denniston, Heather Abdelrahman, & N. Isabelle Blanco

Cover image licensed by: 123rf.com/ Peter Bernik

Cover design by: N. Isabelle Blanco

www.houseofmalfunction.com

www.floraroberts.blogspot.com

Just a Step Away

Lanie Wagner has it all—from her great apartment in the heart of Los Angeles, to her amazing career as the city’s most sought after wedding planner. Yes, ladies and gents, Lanie is riding high on life. 
But there's just one problem. When her cousin called her and asked Lanie to plan her wedding, she knew it was going to be a disaster. She hasn’t been back home in over five years, and her family is out of control crazy. All of them.
With her cousin's wedding looming, Lanie has to make a pivotal decision. She needs to find a date; a boyfriend to be exact. She needs to find some poor bastard willing to pretend to be madly in love with her for an entire week. 
The only downside is Lanie is convinced that no one is pathetic enough to take her up on her offer. 
Lucas Sparks, aka Sparky, is the epitome of every woman's wet dream. And he knows it. Born into a family of wealth and privilege, Lucas has never wanted for anything. Well, that was until he was given the opportunity to share an apartment with Lanie, the one woman that has never fallen at his feet and begged for all that he could give her. 
The same woman that acts like he doesn't exist. 
Even all the money in the world wouldn't be enough to make his humble roommate fall in love with him. When he is given the chance to spend a weekend away in the country with a woman he fantasizes about on a daily basis, he’s determined to do whatever is necessary to go along for the ride, even if it means pretending to be her man.
But playing pretend can be a dangerous game, and considering the circumstances, Lanie and Lucas just might have signed up for more than they bargained for.

Acknowledgements

To my children, whom are the air I breathe and the reason I get up in the morning…and the cause of many gray hairs. Thank you, little peeps, for loving me unconditionally even when I look like a beast in the morning and I growl like a bear. C, K, and J, your mom loves you to the moon and back. Never, ever, forget that! This is all for you!

To my beautiful mom. A zillion thank you’s would never be enough to show my gratitude for everything you have done for me and my children. You’ve put up so much, given so much, and loved so hard. I miss you every single day that you are gone, and a moment doesn’t pass that I do not think of you. Before you left this world, you told me how proud you were of me. Well, break out that smile up in Heaven, because this one is for you! Oh, and don’t worry. I AM going to write that erotic anthology you suggested! I love you…

To my dad. I cannot begin to thank you enough for being there for me and my children. You have been a driving force through this entire writing process and I will forever be grateful. Thank you for giving me the support I needed and listening to me when I complained. You rock! I love you.

To N. Isabelle Blanco aka Nidia, Nyddi, N., what can I say, bb? From the moment we met, you have been a constant in my life. When I didn’t think I could do this and wanted to give up, you were there to push me into believing that I was good enough. Above all things, you are a damn good friend. And, we WILL write that book together and it’s going to kick some ass! I love you…

To Heather. You crack me the hell up! Not only are you an amazing woman, you are an amazing friend. Thank you for taking this journey with me and loving my words, and I can’t wait for the next journey! And yes, I loved every minute of driving your ass nuts with the smexy talk!

To K. Denniston. You, my sweet K., you rock hard. Thank you for your friendship and for helping me through this writing process. I cannot wait to take the next journey with you! I love you…Oh, and the steam factor will be a 10 next time, Miss Karen!

To my sister Andi…Even though you do not like to read and you huffed a thousand times over when I asked you to proofread my manuscript, you still did it. Every. Single. Time. Thank you. Thank you for being there with me through this process. And remember, you are loved…I love you… And by the way, getting ideas about chickens doing it…just no.

And to the FANDOM! Thank you, you guys. Seriously. From the bottom of my heart, I love every single one of you!

3 Months Earlier

~
Lanie
~

“We already picked out the dresses. You said ya wore a size sixteen. I got ya an eighteen just to be on the safe side.”

Bitch.

I tried to block out the nasally voice on the other end of the phone as my cousin announced my previous size to God knows who. It wasn’t my fault that I was born with a severe case of Twinkie-to-Mouth syndrome. Or that, for dessert, my mother thought it necessary to shove chocolate crème cake in front of my face after serving me an outrageous helping of spaghetti.

Not my fault.

At. All.

I let out an exaggerated breath. “I’m in a twelve now.”

“My colors are pink and mauve and the dresses kick ass! You’re gonna love em’! And if it doesn’t fit ya, well…we’ll get your mama’s big jar of Crisco and squeeze your derriere in it.”

And, like always, she only heard herself.

Truth be told, if she wasn’t my cousin, I would’ve absolutely beaten her to death. Jasmine Gallagher invented evil, skull crushing migraines. Even as children, I had always envisioned shoving a sock down her throat.

"I don't know if I can squeeze it in, Jasmine. I already have two weddings in the works and I'm backed up for months."

A blood curdling screech erupted over the receiver. "We're family, Lanie! I need ya to do this for me. Please! You're the only one I trust. I promise I won't turn into an evil Bridezilla."

I couldn't decide what was worse, planning her wedding or jumping off a short cliff into a boiling vat of horse shit. Whatever I felt about the situation, Jasmine was right. We were family. I was going to have to learn how to suck it up, grow a pair of brass balls, and figure this shit out.

"All right, I'll make the necessary changes in my schedule. I guess I can get Deena to—"

My ears nearly bled when a loud, piercing squeal erupted from the other end of the line.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Oh my god, girl, thank you!"

I waited for Jasmine to get a hold of herself. I knew that my cousin hadn’t even tried to look into hiring another wedding planner. Ever since she had announced her engagement, she’d been hinting around to the rest of our family that there was only one planner she would ever consider using. Why? I don’t know. I thought I would’ve been the last person she would ask. Needless to say, I was not thrilled by the idea.

“There’s just one small detail, Jasmine.” Wishing like hell she would quit screaming like a damn baboon, I blew out a breath. “I don’t think that my being your maid of honor is going to work, as I will be dealing with a million different things and won’t have time to stop long enough to catch my breath. I need to be at the disposal of the caterers and staff. And there’s—”

“Oh…quit worrying, will ya? And besides, you’re the queen of multitasking. You’ll figure it out.”

I rolled my eyes and felt my blood pressure rise.

“Okay, I think that’s it!” She was still in full-out squeal mode, and I think my ears officially bled by that point. “Oh, and I almost forgot! Bring that boyfriend of yours I’ve been hearing about!”

What?

“Bring your boyfriend”, right. For starters, Jasmine wasn’t an idiot. She knew damn well that dating and I did not co-exist.

The last guy I went out with stunk like rotten onions and week old cilantro. I couldn’t help but give him hygiene advice about his little problem. And the guy before him? Let’s just say he was hairier than a gorilla. No lie. That dude had back hair that crept all the way up his neck and overflowed from his t-shirt. The hair on his head was a silly mess too, feathered back like some seventies porn star. Apparently, telling the poor bastard what aisle the razors were on at the local Wal-Mart wasn’t such a good idea. Go figure.

No. the opposite sex and I have…issues, to say the least. And now I had an even bigger one: finding an unsuspecting, poor bastard to agree to go with me to the Hillbilly Wedding From Hell.

Chapter 1

~
Lanie
~

For the last three months, the same question had been rattling in my brain, torturing me.
Who the hell am I going to ask to go with me to Psycho Barbie’s wedding?
Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t dare be caught at any event that showcased women resembling Pepto Bismol containers. There was no doubt in my mind that I would end up looking like one of those puffy pink coconut dessert cakes, the ones that come in a twin pack. No doubt.

I tapped my pen against the dining room table. I wanted to back out of Jasmine’s wedding. I wanted to call and tell the evil bitchtress that I could not do it. I couldn’t see planning her wedding even if my life depended on it. Who the hell cared anyway? She’d probably divorce in a month’s time. She was good at that. Love em’ and leave em’. I almost felt sorry for Mitchell, her future hubby.

Besides having to find a date to the chaotic shindig, I had to find someone willing to pretend to be my boyfriend. My boyfriend!
Wonder-fucking-ful
.

Jasmine knew better. She was very much aware of my relationship issues. It’s not like I had a weird toe or something equally off-putting. I just had relationship issues. Major ones. She knew this. I was certain that the evil, life-sucking bitch was just waiting to see me show up without a man. I’d put ten on it.

Just as I placed my head in the palms of my hands and begun to rub my temples, the surround-sound stereo started to pump out “Can’t Touch This”, causing the walls vibrating, and almost making me lose my shit.
What the hell?
I slapped my hands over my ears to drown out the incessant bass. My eyes flew toward the kitchen and that’s when I saw him. He was dressed in only a towel, freshly showered, and dancing around like a crazy loon.

Really?

“What’s wrong, pumpkin? You must be thinking really hard. Your ears are blowing smoke as we speak!”

I shook my head at my roommate, Sparky, and his lack of dancing skills. 

When Sparky first moved in with me, I was happy with the idea of having someone around.  Now I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a normal person living with me, especially one that didn't insist on leaving the toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

His name wasn’t actually Sparky. It was Lucas Sparks. He was given the nickname by the man-eating piranhas at my job when he dropped my cell phone off one day. He’d inadvertently run his fingers through his hair as the blood suckers watched with rapt attention. Later in the break room, I heard them say it was as if sparks had flown from their vaginas.

Really? Sparks?

I shook my head at the memory.

Well, I haven’t experienced the vaginal sparking, but I had experienced his ill manners, including those deadly farts he insisted on letting loose the night the furnace blew out. We were sitting on the couch sharing a blanket, watching a creepy movie together. Those are the worst, yet he thought it was funny as hell to share them with me. No and thank you.

"You're staring at my crotch." He wiggled his black eyebrows at me playfully.

To say that I wished for a gigantic, blazing asteroid to swoop down from the clouds and land right on top of me would be the understatement of the year. Hell, if I could have shoved my head up into the deepest pit of my own ass I would have. Because, yes, my eyes were glued to his package, not intentionally, but they were.

“I was not staring at your...
stuff
.” I waved my hand toward the undeniably huge bulge he was sporting underneath his towel. “I thought I saw a bug crawling on you.”

I gave myself a proverbial pat on the back for my quick-lipped deterrent until I noticed Lucas throw open the towel and search for potential creepy crawling crotch critters.
 

“Why?” I whined.

"I don't see a bug," Lucas said with a bit of paranoia laced in his tone, his dark blue eyes wide as he looked directly at me.

I quickly threw my hands over my eyes. "Um...cover your um...for crying out loud! Cover your
dick
, Sparky!"

             
Lucas looked down at said dick, and then ran his fingers through his hair. A slow grin stretched across his perfect features. "He's big, huh?"

He just
had
to go there!

I shook my head and pried my eyes off of Lucas’ nether region. Even though I went back to the emails on my phone, I could feel Lucas' eyes glued to the top of my head as he stood over me. Without thinking, my head shot up and my eyes went wide. "What? What now, Sparky?"

Couldn't he see that I was going through some major shit right about then? Couldn't he tell that my world was about to come crashing down around me in the next week? A boyfriend. I should have never told my mom that I had a boyfriend, and I wouldn’t have if she hadn’t kept pestering me about it. If she would have just left the subject alone, but no, she was all,
“I need a grandbaby, Lanie Pie.” “Oh, Lanie Pie! When are ya ever gonna find a good man to love you?”

My mother was devastated when I announced that I was leaving Silver Springs. She cried for an entire week, and when I was boarding the plane, she inhaled a strawberry Pop Tart as she waved goodbye. Needless to say, I didn’t look back.

"Damn, Lanie. What the hell’s got your thong in a nasty, little twist?"

How did he know that I wore thongs? Oh my God! He’d probably gone through my underwear drawer. He probably saw my period panties!

"Have you been going through my drawers?"

Lucas doubled over and roared with uncontrollable laughter as he held a hand tightly against his chest. "Woman, I've helped you fold your laundry before! Remember? I’ve seen the Aunt Flo gear, the dental floss, and the magic bra, push-up thingy you have."

I reigned in the mortification his words left and shook it off. I knew better than to jump the gun, considering Lucas and I lived together and we’re bound to come across each other's unmentionables at some point.

It wasn't him. The way I felt had nothing to do with him. Lucas was just a victim of circumstance and my unrelenting stress.

“I know what will make you feel better,” he said, making his way over to me. He held out his hand and cocked a brow.

“What?” I asked in a harsh tone because I really didn’t have the strength to deal with anything childish he had in mind. “I’m not in the mood.”

I hated being a bitch. He didn’t deserve it, no matter how irritated I was.

             
“Humor me, Lanie.” His eyes were hopeful as he thrust out his other hand. “Dance with me.”

“Not now, Sparky.” I brushed off his insane offer and went back to reading my emails. There were days that I literally wanted to stuff a super-size bag of gummy bears between his perfectly shaped lips. “Besides, I don’t like to dance.”

Lucas’ eyes went wide. “Liar! You dance around here all the time!”

“Sparky, please, not now.”

I pulled in a deep, soothing breath, pushed away from the table, and gathered up my cell phone. I needed to cool off and think things through. I decided to go for a jog. Santa Monica Beach was perfect. I didn't give Lucas a chance to get another word in as I headed down the hallway to change.

I didn’t want to take my frustrations out on him. It wasn’t his fault. All things considered, he had always been there whenever I needed an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. Even if I just needed a goofy friend to make me laugh, he was there. More than anything I had wanted to run out to the dining room and spill all my troubles onto him. But I couldn’t. He was perfect with a perfect family. He wouldn’t understand.

Before my hand landed on the doorknob, I was pulled back by Lucas’ grip on my arm. The song had changed, and my breath hitched when he pulled me towards him, close to his bare chest. The song was deep and penetrating. I closed my eyes and let the beat of the music drill into every pore in my body. The singer’s voice was low and lust ridden, singing about being closer and how the woman he loved took his heart and his soul. That and the way Lucas held onto me sent a jolt of undeniable electricity zinging down my spine.

Lucas held me tighter to him and we moved slowly and deliberately around the narrow hallway. I could feel his breath on my neck as he dipped his head even further to rest it in the crook near my shoulder.

As the song continued, it felt as something shifted between us. I tried to shake the idea from my mind and just allow myself to feel and move. I felt Lucas’ hands slide down my back until they reached my hips. A visceral shudder racked through my body, and I wanted to feel more. More of this.

We moved, swaying from side to side, and for a moment I let myself forget about my problems and who I was actually with. I just let my body feel.

“Lanie.”

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t say anything, please.”

With that Lucas pulled me completely flush against his bare chest and I could feel his heart racing a mile a minute. It wasn’t as though I had never thought about him as more than a friend, my best friend, but I knew it would never work.

Every ounce of stress lifted from my body. I knew that I was probably giving out the wrong signals, but I didn’t care. All of it felt so damn good. He felt so damn good. And for once the man holding onto me didn’t care about how my body looked or where I came from. He just held on.

My hands had been resting on Lucas’ shoulders and when he pulled my hips into him, my fingers slithered around his neck until they reached the little hairs at the nape of his neck. He dragged in a ragged breath. A throaty growl bubbled up in his chest and I instantly felt a tightening deep in my belly.

I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck as he whispered, “Lanie”, moving impossibly closer to me. “I...”

I didn’t respond. I just kept moving to the beat of the music. I wanted to feel. I sucked in a breath when Lucas pressed himself against my belly. And that’s when I felt it. He was hard.

Something in the pit of my belly stirred, and when I opened my eyes and looked up at his face, Lucas’ brows were furrowed, almost as if he was scowling, parting his lips slightly. His eyes were wild, searching my face. I quickly pulled my hands away and bolted through my bedroom door, pressing my back up against the wood.

Why did everything seem even more fucked up?  All we did was dance. Why the hell would he get a woody just by dancing with me? It’s not like I was one of those beautiful blonde, big boobed women he dated. Hell, those women didn’t even have an ounce of fat on them!
What the hell, Sparky?
Maybe he needed to get laid. That had to be it. My vagina, his penis, so, so close.
Oh, God!

I changed into my running gear. It was high time for that run.