She's My Everything (Crave and Claimed Book 1) Sam Crescent (good non fiction books to read .TXT) 📖

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2021 Sam Crescent

 ISBN: 978-0-3695-0334-3

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SHE’S MY EVERYTHING

Crave and Claimed, 1

Sam Crescent

Copyright © 2021

Chapter One

Blue Jones leaned against the locker for the sixth time in three minutes in an attempt to get comfortable and to look like he actually belonged. A couple of his friends laughed at him, but he didn’t give a shit. If they wanted to keep him on the team, they knew to keep their mouths shut about what he was doing. He’d been clear to them. He wanted the nerdy girl, Laylah Miller, to belong to him, and if they so much as got in his way, well, he’d make sure they were the laughing stock of the entire town where football was a big deal. None of his friends understood him or his desire for Laylah.

She was so smart, kind, and had the perfect smile. He couldn’t stop looking for her. Whenever he came to school, he made his way down the long corridors, hoping to find her.

Of course, he always did.

He had plenty of people willing to do whatever he wanted for a price. Even if it was just a handshake in said corridor in front of a couple of chicks. He knew the deal. He was the shit in this school. Top jock and all-time champion, even though he was part of a team, but no one else seemed to give a shit about that. Nope, they were more interested in what he did on the field, not everyone else.

According to the town, he won everything. He didn’t and he made sure his team was always there, and he praised them.

Right now, he stood beside Laylah’s locker, waiting for her, ready to make his move. He could have any other chick in this damn high school, and he had, in fact, had them. This was before he recognized Laylah. Before he’d spotted her, laughing at something someone had said. Her laughter had drawn his attention. Whenever he saw her, her arms were filled with books. He’d been so drawn to her, he actually thought she was a new student, but after careful research, he’d discovered they’d always gone to the same school, since kindergarten, and even shared several of the same classes.

Again, he didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed her, but that smile, and fuck, her body, he wanted her, craved her. His teammates weren’t of the same mind. To some, they considered her curves as fat, but not him. When he’d seen her in a swimsuit the other week, he’d nearly lost his shit. Nice big tits, round thighs, and a body that screamed to be fucked. He knew at eighteen he shouldn’t know all about sex and pleasing a woman, but he’d had a lot of practice. He’d lost his virginity at the ripe age of fourteen, and had even found a woman to teach him how to be the best. Those lessons had become invaluable. However, he’d trade it all in if Laylah would look at him for just a single second. That was all he wanted. The past couple of months had been pure torture, watching her from afar, trying to get on her radar, when he always seemed to be the furthest thing from it.

She drove him crazy.

Other than the occasional hey or thanks when she’d dropped her books, she hadn’t spoken to him. Now as he stood there, waiting for her to approach, his palms were sweaty. Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he tried to be cool. She wouldn’t go for someone who was horrible and looked like a serial killer.

He had to keep his shit.

Come on, Blue, the only way to win this game is to be yourself.

He was used to winning and believed it was the key value to everything.

Hands clenched, he watched her turn the corner. She was on her own, but she wasn’t looking up. Her head was down in a book. She always had a whole armful of books, and it drove him crazy on days he just wanted to see her beautiful face.

Was it so hard to look up?

She came to a stop a few feet from where he stood, and he waited, expecting her to see him.

How many times had she come to this locker as she reached out and began to open it? He cleared his throat and she looked up. She wore the cutest pair of glasses for reading, which she pushed up her nose.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

She pressed her lips together and turned to look into her locker, closing the book she’d been reading.

“Good book?”

“You can say that.” She smiled at him. “What can I help you with, Blue?” she asked.

She knew his name. Of course, she knew his name. They shared a lot of classes together and he was king in this school, not that he allowed it all to go to his head. His father had told him to always keep his feet firmly on the ground and to never behave like a dick, even if he could get away with it. According to his mom, his dad spoke from experience. His father had once been a jock, king in his own right, but he’d also been a giant dick, nearly losing him and his mom in the process.

Anyway, that was for another time.

“Nah, you can’t help me with anything,” he said. He studied hard and made good grades all because of his father.

“Then what are you doing hanging out by my