A sneak peek of An Act of Courage.

An Act of Courage, book four in the Acts of Honor series, Christopher and Alissa’s story.

Here is a little sneak peek of two people that were destined for each other from the beginning. It will be the memories of their past that will once again mend their souls.

WARNING due to coarse language and sexual subject matter. This is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18 to read.


Copyright October2015@ K.C.LYNN


The distant sound of drumming pulls me from my half attempt at sleep. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s two in the morning. I listen to who I’m assuming is Christopher, in the music studio next door.

Has he even been to sleep yet?

I debate whether or not to go to him, unsure if he’ll want my company or prefer his privacy. I hate not knowing. Years ago I would have never questioned this, but we aren’t us anymore and haven’t been for a long time.

The longer I listen to the fast, angry beat, the more it beckons me. Throwing off the covers, I get up and head out of the guesthouse in bare feet, tiptoeing across the property to the studio. The cool night sends goose bumps to break out across my skin, a chilly reminder that I’m only in Christopher’s button-down shirt.

As much as I love having to borrow his clothes, I’ll need him to take me home tomorrow to get some of mine.

Placing my hand on the doorknob, I take a deep breath and steel my nerves before entering. The sight I’m met with has my feet stopping in their tracks. In the dimly lit room I watch as Christopher pounds away on the drums, dressed only in worn jeans, his upper bare body slick with sweat.

I’ve seen him play every instrument known to man, heard him sing with such emotion that I felt it to the very depths of my soul, but there’s something pouring off of him that I’ve never felt before. It’s not just the strong vibration under my feet or the way his hard body beats down on the piece of equipment.

It’s powerful—indescribable.

Desolation, helplessness, and frustration consume the air and twines with the beautiful rhythm. It’s so thick it’s suffocating.

Slowly, I start over to him. His body tenses, sensing my approach, but he never falters from his rhythm. Once I’m close enough, I tentatively reach out and gently place my hand on his hard shoulder; silently seeking assurance that it’s okay I’m here.

Within a few moments the beat falls silent and quiet fills the air, apart from his heavy breathing. When he finally looks up at me a sharp inhale moves swiftly into my lungs, agony ripping through my chest at the misery on his face. He looks so lost, so…broken.

After all these years apart, I’ve noticed he has a darkness about him now. He’s always been angry due to his past but never like this. There’s a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A stark pain and anger that’s taken up residency inside of him.

Faith and Ruthie said he came back like this after the last time. I wish whatever he saw—whatever he went through—he would open up to someone. Because whatever happened is slowly killing him.

With my heart aching, I move my hand to the side of his face, my thumb brushing over his rough cheek. Warmth blooms inside of me when he leans into my touch, taking solace from me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”I choke out, my pain for him apparent.

It may have been a long time since I’ve seen him, but I hope he knows I’m always here. He holds a place in my heart that no one else ever will.

Even if it’s a place he doesn’t want.

He stares at me for a long moment, as if considering it. I hold my breath, hanging onto hope, but it deflates quickly when he shakes his head. With a disappointed nod, I respect his decision and am just about to walk away when he stops me.

Encircling my wrist he presses a kiss to my palm, then surprises me by pulling me down on his lap. My heart begins to palpitate at the feel of his hard, sweaty body underneath me, his rough jeans against my satin panties.

Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve been this close to him.

He cuts through my sexually induced fog when he places a stick in each of my hands and brings his mouth to my ear. “Let’s play, baby.”

I shiver at the sound of his rough voice. A smile takes over my face as his hands close over mine and we begin drumming, his skill and grace leading us into a beautiful beat.

Memories begin to surface, as I remember all the times he would do this with me back in high school. Whether it was playing the drums or strumming the guitar, he always took me to a sacred place with him. It’s a place he never shared with anyone else but me, and I’ve missed it so much.

We do it for so long that my arms begin to ache, but I don’t care and my smile never deters because this…


The longer we drum, the more the air accumulates with tension. A tension I feel all the way to my core. My breathing kicks up and my blood burns hot when I register how hard he is against my bottom.

Then, everything changes.

One minute I’m drumming to a beat I could never play on my own then the next I’m flipped around to face him, his fingers digging into my hips possessively. I gasp in surprise, my breath racing as I stare into his intense blue eyes.

Something monumental passes between us.

All the tension that’s been surrounding us since he pulled me out of hell a few weeks ago, consumes the space and our mouths become one. The connection slams into me and sends my heart reeling.

Our tongues duel in a beautiful battle, the sound of our passion filling the air as our past ignites. A growl erupts from him and vibrates against my lips. “Fuck me, you taste as good as I remember.”

I want to tell him the same thing but can’t. All I can think about is his mouth never leaving mine, not even for a second, or it might kill me.

At this moment, I’m not even sure how I survived so long without it—without him.

He slides the stool closer to the drum set before his hand moves between us and presses on my chest. I use the moment to suck in air and let him guide me to my back until I feel the musical cylinders against my shoulders.

His hands move to mine, and it’s then I realize I still have the drumsticks gripped tightly in my fists. With a sexy smirk he pries them both from me, throwing one on the floor but keeps the other in his hand. His eyes never waver from mine as he unbuttons the plaid shirt I’m wearing, baring me to his stare. The cool air whispers over my hot flesh, bringing my nipples to pucker enticingly.

“Still so fucking pretty.”The wild lust in his eyes robs me of air.

I bite my lip to keep from moaning but all silent caution is thrown out the window the moment he takes the stick and brushes the tip of it over one aching bud. I gasp, a fiery whimper escaping past my lips at the cool, hard feel. My back arches, the small touch igniting an inferno in my body.

“Remember the things I would do to this beautiful body, Alissa? How wet you would get when you’d hear me sing?”he murmurs, dragging the smooth wood down my tummy. “You’d beg me to take your ache away. Remember?”

“Yes. Do you?”I ask, my voice breathless from the pleasure whipping through my senses.

I’m dying to know. Has he thought of me as much as I have him?

“Yeah, baby. There isn’t a moment of my time with you that I’ve forgotten.”

His admission has my throat burning and my heart aching. Aching at the loss of him, of what we could have had.

What we did have.

“The good,”he whispers. “The bad.”He slides the stick in my panties. “And the fucking perfection.”

“Oh god, Christopher,”I cry out as he glides the stick through my wet flesh, slowly working it against my swollen clit.

He plays my body as he plays any instrument— with skilled perfection and grace. Keeping his momentum, he leans down just enough to suck a hard nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze it with a pressure that borders on a beautiful pain, and it’s enough to send me over the edge.

Screams of pleasure rip from my throat as sensation after sensation slams into me.

“That’s my girl, scream for me, Alissa. Let me have your pleasure, baby, because next it’s going to be my cock working this hot little pussy.”

His filthy words drag out the intensity of my orgasm. Before I can come down from my high, he pulls the stick from my panties and throws it. I hear it clatter to the floor just as he shreds the thin silk from my body and pulls me upright. I gasp as he situates me over his hard, bare cock and drives up into me—completing me.

It’s devastatingly beautiful.

It’s a connection I’ve never forgotten and yearned for with every fiber of my being.

Christopher stills with a groan, his wild eyes holding mine. “Tell me,”he demands, his voice guttural. “Tell me you thought about this. That you never fucking forgot what this felt like.”

“I tried,” I tell him truthfully, my throat burning. “I tried so hard to forget, because it hurt too much to think about, but I couldn’t.”My breath hitches as tears begin spilling down my cheeks. “I never forgot you. I never forgot what it felt like to be yours. Sometimes the memories were beautiful but other times too painful to bear, especially the one where you walked away from me.”

With his jaw clenched he drops his forehead on mine, his eyes dark and tortured, bearing the same pain in them that I have buried in my soul. His fingers stroke my wet cheek, as our eyes remain locked. “I never walked away from you. Not the way you think,”he grinds out. “I thought about you every second of every day.”

He pulls his shirt from my body then slides his hands up my bare back, grabbing a fistful of my hair before driving up inside of me, over and over again. My fingers dig into his shoulders as he claims my soul for the second time in my life.

I just pray my heart can take it again.