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Deflected

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Blurb

de·flected: When an object changes direction after hitting something, or the cause to deviate from an intended purpose.

See examples Tiffany and Rowen Flanigan:

After surviving the biggest s*x scandal to rock major league soccer, the Flanigan’s are finally living the dream. They’re newlyweds, have great friends, and are both making names for themselves in their respective careers. They have goals for their future and big plans on how to make it all happen.

But when a new and unexpected development suddenly arises, Tiffany and Rowen realize all those carefully made plans are about to become irrelevant. Things will never be the same when their lives are deflected.

Contains explicit content and is recommended for ages 18+.

Deflected is created by M.E. Carter, an eGlobal Creative

Publishing Signed Author.

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Chapter 1: Tiffany, Part 1
VOLUME FOUR: DEFLECTED Something jars me from my sleep, but I'm comfortable enough, I don't care to figure out what it is. The air in the room is cool, but the body behind me is warm. The contrast in temperatures is perfect, so I snuggle right back down into my pillows and doze off. Until I'm jarred from my sleep. Again. "Why the hell is your phone going off at the butt crack of dawn?" Rowen's voice sounds groggy and muffled from the blankets. "It's not that early. It's" - I lean over to look at the clock - "8:06. Okay, yeah. That's early." He pulls me back down for more snuggles. "Stop moving. I'm comfortable." I let him resituate us, my little spoon fitting perfectly against his big spoon. I love sleeping next to him. He makes me feel safe and insulated from the world. Plus, that whole body heat thing. My comfort is short-lived when my phone goes off again. "Son of a b***h," I grumble and untangle myself from the blankets, reaching for my phone. "What do you want to bet it's Quincy, freaking out about my hair appointment this morning?" "Why did you schedule a hair appointment the morning after we got back from our honeymoon?" "I didn't know it was going to be our honeymoon. You sort of sprung that whole wedding thing on me, remember?" It was actually pretty perfect. After being the focal point of one of the biggest sports scandals ever to hit US professional soccer, I am more than happy to never be the center of attention again. Especially since it was a naked picture of me that made its way around the World Wide Web. I knew before we left for Fiji that Rowen was it for me. I just didn't expect him to propose and marry me the same night. Turns out, he knew exactly what I'd want, and a private ceremony, just him and me - no family, no paparazzi, no stress - was exactly the way I needed it to be. "Oh, I definitely remember getting married. And our wedding night." Rowen begins a trek of kisses from my shoulder down my arm. "The thought of jet lag never crossed your mind?" I try to ignore his lips on my skin, but it's damn near impossible. The man is insatiable. "Nope. It was the first time I've been out of the country. Never occurred to me." I blink my eyes, trying to get them to focus on the tiny little words on my text messages. "And I always make my hair appointment for the morning. That way I can get it done before work. I didn't even think about it." Finally, the words on the screen come into focus. Quincy: Are you still coming in today? Quincy: Tiffany, wake up so you're here on time! Quincy: I'm serious. It's a hair emergency! We're doing all-over color, right? "What the hell?" I grumble. "What the hell is a hair emergency?" "Hmm?" Rowen mumbles as he continues his journey with his lips. "Nothing. Quincy's being weird." Me: Relax, you psycho. I'll be there. And yes, all-over color. "You work today?" "No." I toss my phone back on the nightstand, knowing I'm not getting out of this bed without having at least one orgasm. "Just my hair appointment, and then I'm free all day. "Good." Rowen's hand slides down my thigh, and he nudges my legs apart. "Open." I lift my top leg to give him complete access to me. His finger slides inside and he moves it back and forth, thrusting in and out, and we both groan. "I have no idea how I lived without this for so long." "I don't know, but I'm so glad you did." Suddenly, his finger is gone, and his c**k takes its place. I groan again. He feels so good. This is exactly where I want him to be. For someone who stayed a virgin until our wedding night, Rowen has proven to be quite the adventurer in bed. He likes trying different positions and locations… he's not an exhibitionist, though. He's still extremely protective over my virtue, unless he's the one violating it, of course. But we could probably write our own Kama Sutra book with things no one has ever seen before. For a girl who has always loved s*x, having a husband who loves it just as much is a dream come true. Don't get me wrong, I would still be happily married even if he didn't have such a high libido. But I won't ever complain about how much s*x I get. I anchor myself with my hand and grind my hips against his every time he thrusts. Quickly, we discover this is a nice position, but it doesn't get him as deep as we like it. Rowen pulls out and sits up on his knees, the sheets falling off of us. The crisp air makes my n*****s harden even more than they were before. Positioning himself behind me, he gently lifts my top leg again and drives inside me. I raise my hips, causing him to get deeper. His fingers are digging into my hip and thigh as he thrusts. "You okay?" he asks gently, continuing his movements. "Oh yeah. This is better. It feels good, babe." I twist my body to look at him over my shoulder and smile. His thighs flex, his chest strains tight as he hangs on to my hips for dear life. I turn back and anchor myself again, raising my hips ever so slightly once more. My breathing picks up as his c**k hits that spot deep inside me. "Keep doing that, Rowen," I breathe. "Just a little harder."He complies and pushes deeper still, hitting me just the right way. "Right there, Rowen… ooooooohhhhh…" My entire body feels like it lights up as my orgasm shoots through me. Behind me, Rowen's movements get jerky as he begins to climax. "Oh god. Oh f**k, babe." I lose track of how long he comes, too sated from my own pleasure. Eventually, he practically melts on top of me as he comes down from his high. Kissing his way up my arm, over my shoulder, around my neck, across my jaw… I put my hand on his mouth to stop him. "Morning breath. Don't kiss me." "I don't give a damn about morning breath," he practically growls. "I do. I want to live with the fantasy that my husband is perfect in every way. I don't want to know about any hygiene issues yet." He props himself up on his elbow to look at me. "You suck my c**k and have this random fascination with my butthole, but you're worried about my morning breath?" I giggle. "One time, Rookie. I lightly brushed your ass one time with my finger, and you would've thought I set your butt on fire." He settles back in behind me. "Exit only, baby." "I know. And I don't want to know anything about what comes out of there either." He chuckles. "You realize someday you're going to have to brush your teeth or pee or something right after I s**t, right? You're going to find out it smells like everyone else's." "Someday. But for now, I'm pretending you smell like roses." I kiss his hand and throw the covers off of me. "I'm gonna be late." "Hey," he gripes, "it's cold." Clamoring out of bed, the covers are barely back over him when he snuggles into the pillows.

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