British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel

by J. H. Croix

  “Shall I help?”

  I held his gaze and shrugged. “It’s up to you. I appreciate the offer, but I certainly don’t expect it.”

  Jasper’s lips curled in a slight smile, and my belly flipped. “I’m not particularly good at staying idle. I never did see myself working on a farm like this, but I don’t mind helping with the goats and the chickens.”

  I stared at the yellow tape with Do Not Enter labeled on it and felt a little nervous. Stopping at the door, I scanned the letter taped there. The paper was wrinkled and the print slightly faded, but the covered porch had kept it dry for the most part.

  Property of bank. Do not enter without permission.

  “Are you sure we should just go in?” I asked as Jasper came around from the back of the house.

  “Yes. You have a key. Let’s use it,” he said confidently.

  A minute later, we stepped inside the home where I’d spent the most stable years of my childhood. The space had a unique quality of stillness, the feeling that no one had been here in too long. The curtains were closed, save for those over one window.

  A shaft of sunlight came through that window, illuminating the dust moats floating in the air, stirred up from our entrance. A sense of nostalgia slammed into me. There was a table in the corner where I did my homework in middle and high school, and the old floral couch with its ruffle against the wall under the window facing the street.

  Gram’s house was small. The front area was just a living room with an archway that led into a dining room. The kitchen was through another archway directly on the other side of the dining room. A short hallway led to two bedrooms and a bathroom.

  I felt Jasper’s eyes on me. “You okay?” he asked.

  I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

  He seemed to be waiting for me, so I gave myself a mental shake and strode into the dining room. “This is where she kept her files.” The dining room was more the office than an actual dining room although we did eat in this room when I lived here. “Oh, they’re all here!” I was surprised to see four file cabinets set against the wall.

  Jasper was right behind me and stopped in front of the file cabinets as I pushed the curtains open so we could see better. “Surprised?” he asked.

  “I guess I thought she would’ve taken these,” I replied slowly.

  “When did the bank initiate foreclosure proceedings?”

  “While I was away in college, so I’m not exactly sure of the date.”

  He nodded, his eyes scanning the file cabinets. “Often, people think situations like that will resolve themselves. Maybe she thought it would, and she would have time to come back.”

  “Oh, she definitely thought that,” I said with a painful beat of my heart. She’d been so let down by the entire situation and scrambled to make things work when she moved into the upstairs of the winery.

  “Can I open the file cabinets?”

  “Of course. That’s what we’re here for, right?”

  “Well, yes, but this is your grandmother’s home.”

  I was feeling strange—emotional and numb at the same time. “Not anymore,” I said quickly. “I’d like to just move the file cabinets, but I imagine that’s a bit of work.”

  When I looked back at Jasper, I felt as if he was trying to assess how I was doing. I didn’t want him to think I was an emotional mess. Restless, I crossed the room and opened the top file drawer, only to find it was chock-full of paperwork.

  Of course, that was to be expected. But suddenly, I was blinking back tears—over a filing cabinet and paperwork. I swallowed through the tight feeling in my throat and chest. I heard Jasper’s footsteps retreating from the room and wasn’t sure if I was relieved or annoyed.

  My eyes scanned the labels written in my grandmother’s tidy penmanship—labeled by year and what appeared to be companies and accounts. A moment later, Jasper reappeared with plastic crates in hand.

  “Where did you find those?” I asked.

  “I saw them around back. There’s enough for everything in these filing cabinets.”

  I wanted to burst into tears all over again, but I didn’t. Inside of roughly half an hour, Jasper had efficiently emptied the papers in the filing cabinets into the plastic crates and carried them out to the car.

  We worked mostly in silence, for which I was relieved. I didn’t have it in me to talk, not while I was dealing with this avalanche of emotion. I was also unaccountably distracted by his presence even though I was starting to discover that was the case almost all the time.

  I did a quick loop through the old house to see if Gram had left anything else behind, then we drove back to the vineyard. Other than the furnishings and a bottle of aspirin with a single aspirin in the medicine cabinet, there was nothing else personal here.

  I followed Jasper into the winery, my eyes watching the flex of his shoulders as he carried crates. For a businessman, he was in awfully good shape.

  It was only after we got everything put away and had the crates lined up in a row underneath the windows upstairs that I abruptly lost control. I was leaning over, curiously reading my name on one of the faded manila file folders. When I pulled it out and opened it, I found one of my pictures from school. All of the sudden, tears were rolling down my cheeks.

  Jasper had gone downstairs and returned. I was swiping the tears off my cheeks when I heard him approaching. “Anna?”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  He stopped beside me. When I turned and saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, I was crying all over again. I didn’t really understand how it happened, but the next thing I knew, I was sobbing against his delectable chest as he held me wordlessly, and his palm moved up and down my back in a soothing caress.

  Somehow, going into my grandmother’s old home set off an emotional storm inside. I felt as if I’d been holding myself together for too long now. First, it was the stress and grief of facing her death. Initially, I didn’t grasp the shaky financial situation of the business and simply threw myself into work. It was only about six months or so ago that I became fully aware of just what a mess I was facing. I had tried to march forward, telling myself over and over it would somehow work itself out.

  Then I heard about Jasper’s grandfather passing away and had tried to push my tendency to fret about what might happen next to the back of my mind. Until Jasper showed up, yanking the rug out from under my feet.

  Tangling inside all of this was my inconvenient and confusing desire for him. I couldn’t even believe I was turning to him for comfort. It wasn’t as if I thought about it. He was just there, and I reflexively sought his support.

  After a few moments, I caught my breath, and the jumble of emotion started to pass. Of course, as soon as my emotions took a back seat, desire jumped to the forefront and grabbed the steering wheel. Jasper smelled good. Like sunshine, if sunshine had a smell. I didn’t know what laundry soap he used, but it was yummy.

  My heart started to pound, and heat sparked inside me, scattering everywhere and sending a prickle down my spine. I stood there, trying to collect myself and mentally ordering myself to step back, but I couldn’t seem to do it. Not with his muscled chest pressing against me. My nipples tightened to an ache.

  Jasper’s hand stilled on my back, and I heard his heartbeat, rapid and steady, under my ear. I thought maybe I was crazy, but then I felt the presence of his arousal, hard and hot against my hip. I tried to take a breath, only succeeding in getting a shallow sip of air.

  I finally lifted my head. When my eyes ran into his, I felt caught. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

  I started to step back, but he held me fast. “Tell me, Anna, what do you want?”

  The intoxicating timbre of his voice was low and taut with that crisp, deliciously commanding tone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jasper

  I’d lost my mind. This entire day had gone skidding sideways. Now, I found myself with the utterly delectable Anna in my arms. Her brown eyes were wide as she st
ared up at me.

  For God’s sake, she’d just been crying. And me, the one who avoided emotion and drama at all costs, had comforted her. Now, at a most inconvenient moment, my body was on fire, humming with need for her. So hot, it was like water dropped on a hot pan when it sizzled and steam rose through the air.

  Anna’s cheeks were pink, and I could feel her nipples pressing through the layers of fabric between us. My mouth practically watered at the thought of baring one of her lovely, round breasts and sucking her nipple into my mouth.

  Her pink tongue darted out and swiped the corner of her mouth. She was breathing in these short pants while my heartbeat pounded an echo through my body. One of her hands was curled into a fist between us. It slowly opened until it was pressed flat on my chest just over my heartbeat. My cock was heavy, and I knew she could feel it.

  She finally answered my question. “To kiss you.”

  Now, see, that was what made me really lose my mind. Anna was supposed to be a good girl and tell me to get the hell away from her because I wasn’t the man for her. She was all sunshine and flowers and sweet. I tended to be cranky, and I treated everything, including women, like business. I had absolutely no business wanting to kiss this girl, but I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath of air. And air was in short supply here.

  What I should’ve done didn’t really matter because the moment Anna rasped her soft request, my eyes traced her face. Starting at the arch of her brows, my gaze lingered for a moment on her whiskey gaze before glancing over the charming smatter of freckles on her cheeks, so light as to be barely there. My eyes finally landed on her full and pink lips with that barely there dimple in the center of her bottom lip.

  My hand moved on its own. There didn’t seem to be much thought in anything I did when it came to Anna. Case in point: I was here on business. Specifically, to get rid of my stake in this business with her. The layers of complications I was creating by kissing her again couldn’t be overstated. My rational brain knew perfectly well I was being stupid, yet I didn’t give a damn.

  When I lifted my eyes to hers again, our gazes stayed locked together. My nerve endings felt as if they were on fire, sizzling from the sheer electric power of being near her. Dipping my head, I moved slowly, almost wondering if she was going to come to her senses. Maybe one of us could be sensible.

  I was relieved when she didn’t. Instead, I felt the press of her fingers right over the taut muscles at the base of my spine as she leaned up and pressed her lips to the divot at the base of my throat. That kiss was brief, but fire licked over my skin from the point of contact. Then my hand was sliding into her silky soft hair as I dipped my head.

  For a millisecond, the kiss was gentle, but then it turned into an inferno. Or perhaps, it was me who turned into an inferno. Because Anna made me flat-out crazy. I wanted her with a ferocity that startled me with its intensity.

  The second her tongue glided against mine, I angled her head to the side and devoured her mouth. Diving into the warm sweetness, she tasted a little minty. Her tongue was sassy, twining against mine as she sighed into my mouth and flexed against me.

  By some miracle, she wasn’t wearing overalls today. My hand slid down her back, gratified at how I could feel the heat of her skin through the thin cotton of her skirt. When my palm smoothed over the curve of her hip, the soft give of her flesh under my touch had me growling against her lips.

  Our tongues tangled, and I felt the score of her nails on my back through the cotton before her hand stole under my shirt. When her palm slid over my skin, it felt as if sparks were landing on me. Everywhere she touched me was a fire burning and feeding an almost unbearable need for more.

  In keeping with the not-thinking theme, I didn’t even know how I got over to the couch, but the next thing I knew, I was pulling her onto my lap, murmuring, “Fuck me, Anna girl. You’re too hot for words.” I was out of my mind with lust.

  Later, I would have to ponder the fact I was speaking at all. I wasn’t much for being chatty when it came to sex. I was all about efficient achievement of pleasure.

  There was plenty of pleasure with Anna’s soft curves in my lap and her skirt riding up around her thighs. Efficiency was the furthest thing from my mind. It was a surfeit of pleasure with the silky skin of her thighs causing me to nip the side of her neck, growling and chuckling when she let out a little squeak.

  “I need to see that chest,” she muttered in a bossy tone as she shoved at my shirt.

  Though I was reluctant to take my hands off her body, I reached behind my neck to yank my shirt up and over my head, but then I quickly set to work on the tiny buttons on her shirt. “I need to see you too,” I murmured against her throat as I pressed a hot kiss there.

  Anna let out a breathy sigh when her shirt fell open. I was struck silent for a moment. She was wearing a sheer cream lace bra, and the dusky pink of her nipples was visible through the lace. Impatient, I flicked the clasp open between her breasts.

  My cock swelled when her plump breasts tumbled free. I cupped one with my hand, savoring the lush weight as I dipped my head and sucked her nipple. I needed her, needed everything.

  Her fingers speared in my hair, and she shifted on my lap. I could feel her hot core rocking over the hard length of my arousal. I felt out of control in a way I’d never felt. Sensations were threatening to trample what little common sense I had left.

  I lifted my head, leaning back. Opening my eyes, I took Anna in. There she sat with her shirt falling open. Her skin was flushed, and her chest rose and fell rapidly with each raspy breath. She was so fucking sexy I could barely stand it.

  I wanted to bury myself in this sweet, sassy country girl whose business was careening toward disaster and whose heart was breaking because of it. Lifting a hand, I trailed my fingertip along her jaw, down the side of her neck, and over the sweet curve of one of her breasts before I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

  She was so responsive. Her lips parted, and she let out a low moan. My hand coasted over the soft curve of her belly to the apex between her thighs. With her skirt riding up, I glimpsed blue cotton panties. She was a practical kind of girl, which made her even more mind-bendingly sexy.

  Straightening, she bit her lip as she stared at me. Her eyes were so dark they were almost black. I watched her as I teased my knuckles over the swollen nub I could feel through the cotton.

  “Tell me what else you want,” I murmured. “I’ve already kissed you.”

  “More,” she demanded.

  When I pushed the cotton out of the way and my fingers were coated with the slick juices of her arousal, I could feel the tines of my zipper pressing against my cock. I might’ve been half out of mind with lust for her, but I was only going to take this so far today. Perhaps I was torturing myself, or perhaps it was some misguided idea to think I had some control.

  It didn’t matter. I sank two fingers in her channel, watching as her eyes closed and she rocked into my touch. It was a slow tease as I fucked her with my fingers and watched this girl with absolutely no artifice drive me all the way to the edge of my control, so far it was almost frightening.

  I wanted nothing more than her pleasure. So fiercely, it almost hurt.

  She whimpered, “Jasper.”

  Her breasts jutted out. I leaned forward to catch a nipple with my mouth as I pumped once again with my fingers and lightly teased my thumb over her clit.

  “Come on,” I encouraged, speaking against her skin. “Give it to me.”

  Her next cry was ragged, and her channel rippled around my fingers as she came with a noisy shudder.

  Anna fell against me, her forehead pressing against the side of my neck. I could feel the heated gusts of her breath over my skin. I scrambled for control, anything to convince myself I wasn’t completely lost to this woman and to this force of desire that was unlike anything in my experience. I was a slave to it. I knew it wasn’t over, not even close.

  After a moment, she lifted her head,
and I opened my eyes. Her hazy gaze coasted over my face. Still scrambling for purchase, I grasped onto the one thing that’d served me well in all moments of uncertainty—set the tone, dictate the pace. “Now, we have work to do,” I said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Anna

  Now, we have work to do.

  “Way to make a girl feel special,” I muttered to myself as Jasper’s words played in my mind from last night.

  I carefully set a spray of hyacinth to surround the daisies nestled in the center of the vase. Stepping back, I smiled to myself. My very favorite flowers were the simplest. My grandmother had prided herself on growing and selling flowers that were easy and common as a way to remind the world that beauty was approachable.

  Of course, Jasper had made me feel rather special by giving me an absolutely glorious orgasm. The man truly had magic fingers and lips and teeth and tongue and just, well, everything. God, he was delicious. His chest? A fucking work of art. All warm muscled planes with just a dusting of hair.

  After that melting and mind-blowing encounter, we had, in fact, gotten to work. Jasper was like a machine the second he had papers in front of him. His studious concentration was even sexy. His focus. Who thought focus was sexy?

  Me, apparently. It helped that the package wrapped around all that focus was this weird combination of distinguished British gentleman wrapped in a muscled, lean body paired with a dirty mouth. God, the things he whispered when I was about to come made me blush all over again just now. It wasn’t so much the words, but the tone behind them.

  A part of me felt a little salty about how quickly he’d shifted gears, but it had saved me from myself. Being busy kept me from doing or saying anything stupid. After my little emotional outburst and transition into writhing on his lap, well, I needed to not do anything else ridiculous.

  We had a wine tasting tonight, and I only had two hours to finish getting ready. Gathering several flower arrangements together, I put them in a tray and hurried from the greenhouse over to the winery. Jasper, the goat, who I now had to refer to as “the goat” every time I saw him, came trotting across the yard. He gave a little buck with his feet and then bumped his head into my knees.