by J. H. Croix
Of course, I knew it was her because I knew her voice too well—husky and melodic, it sent a sizzle through my veins. I turned, as if she had a string attached to me, immediately crossing over to stop beside her at a stainless-steel table on one side of the kitchen.
“Yes?”
Her big brown eyes blinked at me. “I need a taste test.”
“It’s delish,” Lily called over as she hurried past us out to the bar.
“Lily says everything is delicious,” Belle offered with a smile. “I love that about her because she’s so positive, but I need a critical taster.”
“You expect me to be more critical?” I teased.
She gave a light shrug. “Just taste it.”
Belle lifted a small plate with some kind of pastry on it. I reached for it, popping it in my mouth. Flavor exploded the second my teeth broke the surface of the flaky, buttery pastry. I closed my eyes, letting out a moan.
“Oh, fuck, that is delicious,” I said as I opened my eyes.
Pink crested on her cheeks, and her lips curled in a slow smile. “Really?” She bit the plush surface of her bottom lip, and I came so fucking close to kissing her right then and there.
Her lips were simply too tempting, lush and full, and I recalled all too clearly how they felt underneath mine.
“Yes, really?” I insisted when I nudged my brain off the kissing track. “What’s in there?”
“Brie with cranberries. It’s perfect for autumn and the holidays coming up soon.”
“Can I have another?”
She immediately handed me one, and I couldn’t hold back another moan as I chewed.
Phoebe came into the back of the kitchen, immediately veering in our direction. I wasn’t technically Belle’s boss, but I was the general manager. I didn’t know what Phoebe would think if she knew about the other night between Belle and me.
“What do we have here?” Phoebe asked when she stopped beside Belle.
“I think I’ll add this to the specials for next week,” Belle said. “They’re the pastry bites I’m testing.”
“They’re amazing,” I said as I backed up. It took an effort to make myself do that when what I wanted to do was linger with Belle. Not for any reason other than I savored the feel of being near her.
Fortunately for me, it was always busy at Speakeasy, so it wasn’t difficult to stay distracted. That’s what we wanted. The place was developing a good reputation. Hours later, by the time the late shift staff arrived, I was ready to go.
I had to force myself not to check to see if Belle was done for the night. I didn’t want to be too obvious. Hell, I was trying not to be obvious in my own mind, which was ridiculous. I walked out into the cool darkness, and my feet carried me to the path that led to the bench.
There was no sign of anyone at the bench, so my feet kept on moving, thinking I’d swing by because my truck was parked over in the lot at The Gin Mill. As I approached the parking lot, I saw Alec and May standing outside. Alec’s hand was resting on May’s lower back. He said something, and she laughed. I was across the parking lot, and somehow, I felt as if I were interrupting an intimate moment between them. They were a good couple, easy and always kind to each other. When I first got to know Alec, I thought he was fun and easygoing because that’s exactly how he was. But he was also deeply caring and protective, and it showed whenever he was around May.
They were by the entrance that led up to the apartments above The Gin Mill. I looked away. There was a small part of me that was almost in awe of what they had. My parents’ marriage had taught me nothing good about relationships. I’d never really thought I’d want something serious. Lately though, every so often I wondered if that was a possibility for me.
With a mental shake, I drove home, and did some work in the downstairs of the barn. I was trying to design the layout as such that if I chose, I could create a separate apartment down here. I sure as hell didn’t need all the space just for me.
Belle feathered along the edges of my thoughts most of the night, as she had pretty much ever since she’d shown up in town. She was sliding through the tiny slats around my heart, slipping like air through the edge of a windowsill.
Another week later, when it seemed both Belle and I had been doing some kind of avoidance dance with each other, my feet carried me down to that bench by the river, and there she was. The moon was high in the sky tonight, glittering through the trees and shimmering on the river as it rolled quietly over the rocks.
I was a little tired, and more than anything, I’d been craving another night with her. When she glanced up as I rounded the end of the bench, she didn’t look the least bit surprised to see me.
Her lips curled in a warm smile. “Hey there, you should sit right here.” She patted the bench beside her.
I sat down, because it was impossible not to. Belle was smiling, and her eyes were twinkling, and I wanted to kiss her. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few loose locks dangling around her neck and cheeks.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“You ask that as if you haven’t seen me almost every day this whole week,” I returned, teasing a little.
“Very true, Ty. You’re always busy at work.”
“As are you.”
She gave me another dimpled smile, and my heart gave a tricky little twist in my chest. I was just supposed to want this girl. I did want her, and I wanted her like no one I’d ever wanted because she was the only girl I could never forget. I kept telling myself I wasn’t technically her boss. That might have been splitting hairs, but I didn’t really care. Not now, not when I was sitting beside her, and she smelled a little bit like sugar.
“What were you baking this afternoon?”
Her doe eyes widened slightly. “How did you know I was baking?”
“You kind of smell like sugar,” I said with a light shrug. Dipping my head, I dusted a kiss on the side of her neck because it was all too tempting.
She bit her lip, and I could see the subtle flush bloom on her cheeks when I straightened. I was trying to be sensible, although I was already toeing the edge of not-so-sensible. Much as I wanted to have my way with her right then and there, this was a public place.
She laughed softly. “Actually, I was making these little Russian wedding cookies.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“It’s a fancy way of saying sugar cookies.”
I laughed, pleased when she laughed with me. When I looked her way again, her gaze was thoughtful.
“Okay, smart girl, penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh, my God, you used to call me that,” she said with a little snort.
“Well, you are a smart girl, and back when I knew you before, you were all about the grades.”
She caught one of those loose locks of hair along her neck and spun it around her index finger as one of her feet bounced slightly on the gravel underneath the bench.
“I was, wasn’t I? Times have changed. I’m not taking any classes, and I don’t care whether or not I get an A on anything,” she said, almost solemnly.
“You know, grades aren’t everything.”
Her eyes whipped up to mine. “They’re not.”
“You don’t sound so sure. I promise you, they’re not. I mean, passing matters, and a sense of accomplishment is always important. But in the long run, once you’re done with school, who asks about grades? I suppose if you’re aiming for some kind of academic position, they would matter. But really, at that point, it’s how you do the job. Nobody wants to work with the person who’s book smart and a total asshole, or with zero common sense.”
Belle grinned at me. “Definitely not.” She paused again, looking thoughtful. Another spin of that lock of hair around her finger before her hand fell to her lap. “It took me a while to accept the idea of not worrying about grades. I obsessed about them for years.”
I cocked my head to the side. “That wasn’t how I saw it. You were really driven, but not obsessed. It seemed like good g
rades came easy to you. Life is harder than classes.”
“Well, I definitely figured that out.” Her tone was dry, and she nudged me lightly with her elbow. “There’s no syllabus, so I can’t do anything ahead of time, and there’s no grading rubric.”
“So true. Everyone plays by their own set of rules, and the rules can change.”
She smiled at me again, and it felt like a precious gift. I didn’t sense Belle revealed her insecurities to many people. Knowing that she could find humor in them meant she was letting her guard down. I liked knowing that.
“What are you doing now?” I asked as I scooted a little closer to her on the bench.
She blinked up at me. “Trying not to kiss you,” she said flatly.
Her answer startled me, and I laughed again. “How’s that working out?” I asked when I brought my gaze level with hers again.
“Not very well. I’m succeeding, but it’s taking more effort than I’d like to admit.”
Reaching for her, I tugged her into my lap. “No fair,” she teased as she turned to me, her lips inches from mine.
I meant to say something else, something witty, but I found all I could do was kiss her. It was the logical choice after all, and definitely the most fun.
The moment I fit my mouth over hers, Belle shifted closer to me, one hand cupping my cheek as her other arm wound around my shoulders. She was warm and soft, a contrast to the cool air outside.
I had no idea how long that kiss lasted, because I was gone the second her tongue darted out in a sensual tease against mine. I could kiss Belle forever. That was one of the things I’d never forgotten about her. It wasn’t about getting to whatever might come next. Every moment along the way was decadently good.
A horn honked in the parking lot by Speakeasy, the sound carrying through the trees to us. We abruptly broke apart, and I gulped in several lungfuls of crisp autumn air, needing the coolness to clear my head.
“Come home with me, sweetheart,” I murmured as I trailed my thumb along the edge of her jaw.
She looked at me quietly for a moment, and I thought she might turn me down. But she didn’t. She dipped her head and pressed a kiss right at the base of my throat, the subtle touch like a brand on my skin. I had to grit my teeth to keep from kissing her all over and losing myself again.
“Come on.”
She shimmied off my lap, and we stood. I didn’t even think about it when I reached for her hand. I savored the fact that she didn’t pull away and laced her fingers through mine.
A few moments later, we were in my truck, and Belle announced that she wanted to drive with the windows cracked open.
“It might get chilly,” I commented as I glanced toward her before I turned onto the road.
“I don’t care. Fall air is my favorite.”
I was smiling at her, and then she circled her hand in the air. “Are we going anywhere?”
Jesus. That’s how ridiculous I was getting over Belle now. I lost track of just about everything but her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pressed the button to roll her window down slightly as I did the same. Cool air swirled into my truck as I drove toward home. Fall in Vermont meant crisp nights and earthy scents as the leaves fell, slowly carpeting the ground. Occasionally, the scent of wood smoke carried through the air. Because a fire on a chilly autumn evening was what the season called for.
My body was humming with anticipation. We were quiet on the drive. That was another thing I liked about Belle. She didn’t seem to feel the need to fill space with chatter. When I turned onto the drive that led to my partially renovated barn, it felt as if my cells tightened with anticipation.
A few minutes later, our footsteps crunched on the gravel as we walked to the door. When we stepped inside, Belle asked, “How come you renovated the upstairs first?”
We stood just inside the doorway in the circle of light cast from the single light bulb mounted in the small entryway right beside the stairs. I looked down to find her wide brown eyes waiting expectantly for my answer. I had to give myself a mental shake to focus.
“The previous owners had already started to renovate upstairs. It was that simple.”
“How much have you done downstairs?”
I reached for her hand. Because I needed to touch her.
“I’ll show you.” I opened the door that led from the entryway into the barn downstairs.
At the moment, it was cast in darkness, although moonlight fell through the windows, bathing it in a silvery glow. The space was wide open. I had torn down the walls left behind from the old horse stalls.
Belle stopped for a minute, and I could practically hear the smile in her voice. “You can do whatever you want with the space.” She dropped my hand and spun in a circle with her arms out.
Aside from taking the walls down and reinforcing the supporting beams, the only thing I’d done was to install windows on one side of the barn. What had once been latched half-doors for the animals to look out were now windows that ran the length of the barn and offered a stunning view out over the Green Mountains with rolling hills and orchards.
Tonight, the landscape was bathed in moonlight. Belle’s boots echoed on the dusty wooden floor as she crossed over, resting her hands on a wide windowsill.
As if she had a thread attached to me, I followed her over, stopping beside her.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
“It is.”
I felt her eyes on me and glanced down. Although there wasn’t a single light on, it was easy to see her face in the moonlight. Her dark eyes blinked as she searched my face.
I wasn’t thinking, but then it seemed whenever I was close to Belle, thought made itself scarce. Angling to face her, I dipped my head, pressing a hot, open kiss on the underside of her jaw. When she made a little sound at the back of her throat and arched toward me, I dropped another kiss, just under her ear, savoring the sound of her raspy sigh followed by a soft whimper.
Then, it felt as if time sped up and slowed down at once. We were kissing, and each kiss melted into the next, a tangle of lips, teeth, and tongues, ragged breaths in between kisses, and the feel of Belle pressed against me, her lush curves a temptation I couldn’t resist.
Belle’s hands slipped under my T-shirt, cool against my skin. I tugged at her blouse, letting out a growl of satisfaction when I got the buttons undone and discovered she was wearing another lacy bra.
I teased her nipples through the lace, and she dragged her palm over my cock, where it was swollen and pressing against my zipper. Restless and impatient, I flicked the clasp between her breasts and dipped my head to catch one of her nipples with my mouth, grazing my teeth over it as I swirled my tongue.
She gasped my name, her fingers spearing in my hair briefly before she pushed on my shoulder. Before I could ask what she was doing, she unbuttoned my fly with nimble fingers. I hadn’t forgotten how bossy she could be, but I was reminded concretely when she slipped a hand in my boxers as she pushed my jeans down, just enough for my cock to bounce free.
Somehow, this encounter had spiraled out of my control. All I could do was let out a ragged groan when she leaned down and I felt her mouth close over the crown of my cock. I laced my fingers in her hair as she sucked me in deeply.
“Fuck, Belle,” I muttered when I felt her tongue drag along the underside before she sucked me in again.
I gave her a little tug because I didn’t want this to finish now. I wanted to come inside of her. She didn’t let me take control, not just yet. She tortured me a little more with several deep sucks and her tongue teasing around the tip of my cock before she straightened.
Her eyes met mine in the moonlight, and she gave me a saucy grin. That was like the sharp lash of a whip, cracking through the air and sending electricity sizzling all the way down my spine and straight to my balls. “Your turn,” I murmured as I lifted her against me.
“Where—?” Whatever question she started ended with a gasp when I adj
usted her on my hips just enough for her legs to curl around me.
Belle was a lush bundle of curves in my arms. I didn’t have far to go. I had a worktable to the side, and I made it over there, sliding her hips on it.
“Now, where was I?” I trailed my fingers in a teasing circle around one nipple and then the other.
She gasped before replying, “I don’t know.”
“I think…” I dabbled with my lips along the underside of her breast. “Mmm, right here.” I swirled my tongue around a taut nipple and played with her breasts just enough until she was crying out. Once again, she was wearing a skirt.
“God, I fucking love your skirts.” I pushed the fabric up.
She shimmied, giving me an assist, until her skirt was rumpled around her hips. When I looked at her, with her lips kiss-bitten, the silvery moonlight gilding her, and her knees open for me, my heart kicked against my ribs and need thrummed through me.
I meant to tease, to take it slow, to make her crazy. The problem was, Belle made me absolutely crazy. The minute my fingers found her slippery cleft, I couldn’t wait. I needed to be buried inside her.
18
Belle
Ty had this crazy effect on me, where I almost lost myself. Everything was pleasure and sensation storming through me, and all I wanted was more. With his fingers teasing me until I was teetering along the edge of a climax, I cried out, feeling bereft when he drew his fingers away.
“Ty,” I protested. “I need—”
“I know what you need, sweetheart.”
Jesus. When he talked like that, all bossy and clear that he knew just what I needed, I trembled all over.
I heard something thump, followed by the distinct wrinkle of a condom wrapper. In a second, he smoothed it on, protecting us, before he tugged my hips closer to the edge of the table, murmuring, “I seem to like fucking you on tables.”
“Ty,” I pleaded when I felt the nudge of his thick crown at my entrance.
I was dripping wet, all for him. “Tell me what you need,” he murmured