Love Me Deeper Read online

  Love Me Deeper

  Aja Cole

  Contents

  Thank You!

  Before you start…

  1. Nova

  2. Nova

  3. Asher

  4. Nova

  5. Asher

  6. Nova

  7. Nova

  8. Nova

  9. Nova

  10. Nova

  11. Asher

  12. Nova

  13. Nova

  14. Asher

  15. Nova

  16. Asher

  17. Nova

  18. Nova

  19. Asher

  20. Nova

  21. Asher

  22. Nova

  23. Asher

  24. Nova

  25. Nova

  26. Nova

  27. Nova

  28. Asher

  29. Nova

  Epilogue

  Want more?

  Bonus Chapters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Shhhhh…

  1. Excerpt

  Also by Aja Cole

  Stay Connected!

  About the Author

  Love Me Deeper

  Aja Cole

  Copyright © 2018 by Aja Cole.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  First Edition April 2018

  To all of my family and friends that have supported me every time I’ve said, “I’m writing a book.”

  I couldn’t have done it without your love and constant encouragement.

  To everyone who reads my books and comes back for more…you fucking rock.

  To my author friends and the people who let me vent and freak out and constantly inspire me to keep going…

  Thank you. I love you all.

  And to my baby leapfrog, may you always know how much you are loved.

  Thank You!

  I just wanted to say a quick thank you for giving my writing a chance, and I hope it gives you everything you’re looking for!

  I like my love scenes steamy and my sweet scenes sappy.

  Now, please enjoy and I hope you love my characters as much as I do!

  ~ Aja Cole

  Before you start…

  This book contains explicit content meant for readers 18+, along with a sweet hero and a smitten heroine. If such language or material offends you, please be aware.

  1

  Nova

  12 years ago

  This is the last time I’ll ever see my sister, but I don’t know it yet.

  “Naja, where are you going?” I stop outside my door, staring down the hallway where my sister is flipping the security panel closed.

  She doesn’t answer at first, but she sits her dark bag on the floor and comes to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. She looks like our mom with her long, dark hair pulled back like it is.

  “Nova, you’re the best little sister ever, you know that?”

  I smile sleepily, shaking my head. “I’m your only little sister.”

  “You’re the only one I’d want, too,” she says softly, pushing my hair behind my ear. It’s only to my shoulders because I don’t like it in my face. Naja cut it for me, and it made our mom ground her for weeks. “I’m leaving tonight, but I’ll always watch over you. Never forget that.”

  I frown. “Are you going to a party? How are you going to watch me if you’re there and not here?”

  She grins a little, dimples that both of us have showing on her face. “You’re right, kid. A party. That’s all.”

  “What if something happens to you? Do you know these people? Remember not to talk to strangers, and boys are trouble,” I tell her seriously, repeating what I’ve been told before.

  “You really are the good child. Let me have my rebel status, okay?” She laughs.

  “Mama and Daddy are gonna be mad,” I warn.

  She looks away from me, her hands squeezing my shoulders a little. “Yeah, well, Mom and Dad can suck it.” She looks at me again, light brown eyes narrowing. “When you’re my age, promise me you’ll give them hell.”

  “I’ll try…” I hesitate. “Maybe.”

  “Well, as long as you try. I love you, Nova. More than I love anything else.” It looks like she’s tearing up, and for some reason, I just feel the need to hug her. I wrap my arms around her waist tightly and bury my face in her shirt.

  “I love you too, Naja. You’re my twinkle.” When I was born, my parents said she used to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” to me when I started crying in my bassinet. Now we always use the words with each other.

  “And you’re my star,” she finishes, pressing a kiss to my forehead. She pulls away and backs up, walking to the panel and picking up her bag from the floor. “Be great, Nova.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Na.” I rub my eyes, yawning. She doesn’t say anything, just blows me a kiss and slips out of the doors, closing them quietly behind her.

  I go to the kitchen to get some water and hope that Naja doesn’t get into too much trouble tomorrow.

  The minute my feet touch the pale cream carpet of my bedroom floor, something feels wrong.

  It’s the voices. I look at the bright red digital clock numbers on the table next to my bed and it’s 4:16 AM.

  My bedroom is on the first floor, because I liked to leave my bed at night when I was younger and my parents didn’t want me falling down any stairs.

  Being on the first floor meant that I didn’t break any bones then, but it also means that I’m near the kitchen and my dad’s office.

  It’s the terse, worried voices.

  The walls aren’t exactly concrete, and because of the ventilation, sometimes things make it through that no one thinks about. That no one thinks about me hearing.

  “…thought about that.”

  “…lost to us.”

  “…Naja…”

  They must know she snuck out last night.

  I know Mama and Daddy don’t know that she keeps up with the code changes. They think they’re the only ones that know the passwords. Them and Sasha, and our security guys.

  Naja is sixteen and my mom calls her a wild card. I asked her once what she meant, and she said, “Your sister takes a year off my life with everything she does.”

  I wonder if this is two years off.

  I leave my room and go to the door next to mine, pushing it open, fingering the edge of my t-shirt nervously.

  My mom is standing with her arms crossed by the window, in her long, pink robe. My dad is sitting behind his large desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There are people I’ve never seen before in the room, and then there’s Sasha, my dad’s head of security. I like his daughter, Mandy. She always shares her candy with me and she’s teaching me how to play chess.

  “Nova.” Sasha stands, coming towards me. “You should be in bed, zvyozdochka.” He has a thick accent because he was born in Russia. He says I have one too, but I can’t hear it when I try to talk to myself.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I say quietly. “What are you talking about? Where’s Naja?” The words tumble from my lips and my mom turns from the window, her eyes red.

  “Nova, come here,�
�� she tells me.

  I stay by the door and shake my head. “Where’s Naja?” I repeat. “Is she in trouble?”

  My mom comes to me and holds out her hands. “Nova, we need to tell you something.”

  “No.” I blink. “No, I don’t want to know.” I feel cold, like I did when I forgot my jacket because I was so excited that it was snowing outside. But there’s no snow this time.

  My mom kneels to the floor, holding out her hands again. She takes mine, even though I don’t want her to. She runs her hands up my arms and cups my face, making me look at her.

  “Darling…” She swallows hard. “Naja is gone, and she’s never coming back.”

  “What do you mean?” I can feel my lips shaking and I don’t know how to stop it.

  “Your sister is gone now, Nova. It’s just us now.”

  You’re not supposed to raise your voice at adults, and that’s all I want to do right now.

  I want my sister.

  I snatch my hands away and run from the room, slamming my door and running to my phone. I slide to the floor of my closet and clutch the pink case with shaking fingers. Naja gave me this case for my birthday. She said she wanted the coolest sisters in the world to match.

  I call her, but it goes to voicemail. Maybe she’s on the phone, or maybe she’s just busy right now and she’ll call me back later.

  “Naja, where are you? Please come home!!!”

  “Naja, when will you be back?”

  “Naja, I miss you.”

  “Naja, are you okay??”

  “Naja, please text me back.”

  But she never does.

  And I never hear from her again.

  2

  Nova

  Present

  “Too deep, too deep, lift up a little…oh, perfect. So perfect.”

  I move back, kneeling to the ground and angling myself so I’m in a better position.

  “Right there, don’t move.” I click rapidly, making sure that I get every shot possible. Tara smolders at the lens, doing what she does best, and moving her million-dollar body sensuously. The thumping music in the studio adds to the energy she brings every time she’s in front of the camera, and I drink it in, making sure to keep my eye critical but natural.

  When I take the last shot and signal her, a wide smile crosses her face and she bounces on her toes, the sex kitten demeanor of hours past forgotten and replaced with almost childlike exuberance.

  That’s Tara in a nutshell. One second, she’s everything your mother warned you about and the next, she’s like a happy-go-lucky pixie.

  “Lemme see! Lemme see!” She snatches up her silk robe from where it’s laying on the back of a chair and wraps it around her lithe body, knotting it lightly at the waist and peering excitedly over my shoulder. I pull up the last shots on the viewing screen and flip through them, laughing as she squeals in my ear.

  “You’re my favorite, Nova.” She bends down and wraps long arms around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “There’s a reason you’re the only person I want shooting me for the big stuff.”

  “Well, you’re an easy person to work with.” I send the best shots to my drive so I can touch them up a little bit and play with the exposure.

  “Is that your phone ringing?” She plops into a chair, and I listen for the distinct ringtone that gives away the presence of an iPhone user. I should change it to one of the other options, but it’s just an extra step that I don’t care about. Moving to the pile of things in the corner of my studio, I toss aside jackets and miscellaneous crap to grip the PopSocket that’s attached to the gold case.

  The caller ID shows a number I’m not familiar with, but I have a quick second of hope that maybe it’s one of my parents putting their stubborn pride aside.

  “Nova Quentin speaking,” I answer. I’m proud that my voice is neutral.

  “Well, I guess I don’t need to ask to speak to you. This is Calla Wellesley.” A pleasant voice sounds through the line, which means it’s definitely not one of my parents. Pleasant doesn’t exactly radiate from them, or it wouldn’t if they were speaking with me, at least.

  “It’s a bad habit that I should stop in case someone nefarious is ever looking for me.” Once upon a time, the possibility wasn’t exactly far-fetched. It’s been quiet for the past few years though, and I don’t believe in living in fear.

  “Well, Nova Quentin, how would you feel about accepting a job offer?”

  “A job in the photography field, or something else? I should warn you that I don’t do bodily fluids and seeing blood makes me lightheaded.”

  “In photography, of course.” Her laugh is tinkling. “I’m calling to book you for the ESPN body issue, if you’re interested and available.”

  “The body issue?” I echo, turning to Tara. Her eyes widen and she stands, throwing her hands out in silent excitement.

  “The one and only,” Calla confirms. “Your name was passed along to us and we’ve checked out your work. I think you’d be a great fit.”

  “Wow, um, hell yes. I mean, yes, of course. I’d be honored. Who am I shooting?”

  “We’ve actually been asked to not give the name until you’re on set, just for a nice little surprise factor so you come in with no preconceived vision.”

  “How mysterious. I’m absolutely sold.” I’m still in awe, even though I’ve done shoots with different athletes before. I’ve covered the Olympics, some music tours, runway shows, and anything else you can think of. I like to think of myself as a jack-of-all-trades, but my first love is shoots that let me play around with the way the body moves and get it in action. That’s exactly what The Body Issue is about.

  “Awesome. I have your details here, so I’ll send over the times. I can’t wait to meet you. You come very highly recommended.”

  “Thanks Calla, I’m excited.”

  “So are we. Bye, Nova.” She clicks off, and I lower my phone to my side, incredulous.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think we have celebrating to do-o-o.” Tara’s practically bouncing on her toes, singing to the tune of “22,” and I shake my head, still a little in shock.

  “Call the girls, Tara. We’re getting fucked up tonight.”

  Imagine my surprise when the call time for the shoot ended up being this afternoon. I was on the first flight back to Atlanta from LA. Unfortunately, Calla didn’t send over the information until after I was already way too many shots deep, and I’m feeling the pain.

  I push my shades up against my nose and inhale the strong aroma of the coffee in my hand. Dark roast. Strong with a heady, sweet aroma of a little tobacco and brandy. Kaanapali Estate Mokka. No bullshit cream and sugar.

  I can’t believe they even have this brand.

  I’m about to go in for my first, blessed sip when a voice from behind me makes me stop with the cup halfway to my lips.

  “I’m glad they heeded my coffee request. Only the best for Nova King.”

  I turn on my heel slowly, pushing my shades atop my hair and wincing when the bright light hits my tired eyes. But this, I have to see without a barrier.

  “Riley, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m a right-hand woman, I’m wherever the man is.” She moves towards me, mischief in her green eyes. “I’d hug you, but you haven’t had your brew yet, and I know how you get.”

  “Wait, that means…” My brain is slow to work this morning, but not that slow.

  “You’re shooting your husband today, you’re welcome.” She turns me gently to face the other side of the area, and I see Asher for the first time in what feels like forever.

  He’s laughing with someone, the sound genuine and infectious. His head is thrown back and the strong line of his throat is visible, flowing into his sharp jaw and over a stubborn chin. I let my eyes trace down his wide shoulders and well-developed arms, over his tight ass and the muscled thighs I know are there, now hidden by track pants.

  “Ex-husband,” I correct absentmindedly, sk
ating my gaze away from him before I get wrapped up in the past. “And really, not even a real marriage.”

  “Missed opportunities,” she counters. “But it looks like you’ve got a chance to be in each other’s lives again starting today, so you should definitely take advantage of that.”

  I bring the coffee cup to my lips, savoring the roast and licking my lips before I turn to her.

  “Still meddling, Riles?”

  “Still watching my idiot friends be oblivious, you mean? Yes. Yes, I am. Unashamedly.”

  “Did you ask Calla to hire me?” I don’t like the thought that she might’ve only given me this job because Riley wants something to happen that’s never going to happen.

  I thought I got it because of my own merits.

  I need it to have been because of my own merits.

  “I gave her the names of a few photographers. She chose you because of her own research. It’s not a hand-out, don’t worry.” She backs away, slinging dark red hair across her shoulder. “Now go get ready to photograph the love of your life naked, and I’d like an amazing gift basket and credit when you pull your head out of your ass.”