Inarticulate

by Eden Summers

“Did you find us easy enough?”

  “Yeah,” she lied and slid out of Dominic’s clutches. “Have you got somewhere I can put these?” She held up the six pack of wine spritzers, determined not to let her attention wander back to the man standing on his lonesome.

  “Give them here. I’ll put them in the cooler.” He yanked them from her hands, broke the cardboard packaging at one end, and handed her a bottle. “While I’m doing your bidding, why don’t you go talk to him?”

  “Who?” Her lips tilted as she feigned ignorance. She’d never been an accomplished liar.

  Dominic scoffed and shook his head. He walked away, leaving her alone, vulnerable, and entirely susceptible to the dark gaze Keenan now gifted her.

  “Shit.” She couldn’t control her heart rate. Not that she ever could.

  His scrutiny made her feel like a bug under a microscope. He was learning her secrets with every glance, and she wanted the favor returned. To crack him open and see what hid beneath his tough exterior.

  Hi. She mouthed the word, not wanting to cast her voice across the numerous feet separating them. He tilted his beer bottle at her and took a swig. Laid back. Without a care. There was less tension in his features tonight. He was still dark and devilish, but there was also a glimpse of humanity.

  She strolled toward him, her chest thumping harder with each step. “Nice to see you again, Keenan.” His name on her lips was far better than having it ring in her head for days on end.

  He kept his position against the tree trunk, his attention raking over her as she approached. The appraisal was slow and deliberate. From her black ankle boots now covered in dust, to her tight jeans, her thick mauve coat, her matching scarf, all the way to her face.

  He broke eye contact, and the corner of his lips quirked.

  Something was funny.

  She looked down at herself. Her fly wasn’t undone. No cleavage was showing. Her clothes were casual. Maybe a little too laid back. She hadn’t even bothered with make-up apart from mascara. But she looked hot. As hot as someone could get dressed like an Eskimo.

  “You don’t approve of what I’m wearing?” She withheld the frustration from her tone and gripped the cap of her wine spritzer, trying to twist it open without shredding her palm.

  His face tilted, turning back to meet her. He lifted the beer bottle to his mouth, took a slow gulp, and never let his focus waver. The way his throat convulsed made her swallow. The moisture on his lips made her lick her own. There was no hope to control her rapid pulse.

  She was lost.

  Helpless.

  She continued to twist at the bottle cap and winced at the sting of pain slicing through her skin. “Shit.” She looked down at her palm and the imbedded red scratches. Right when she needed a drink, her girlie hands were betraying her.

  Keenan shoved from the tree trunk and ate up the small space between them. He was frowning now, the lines on his forehead harsh as he snatched the bottle from her hands. With a deft flick of his wrist, he removed the cap and handed the bottle back to her.

  “Thanks.” Clearly, she hadn’t been flustered enough, because now she had to deal with the heady scent of him making her dizzy.

  He tipped his head and she stood frozen, waiting for his retreat. Waiting and waiting. He remained close. Too close to ignore how soft his lips appeared, or how badly she wanted to run her fingers over the harsh stubble of his jaw.

  The tilt of his mouth returned, growing into a full grin.

  Shit. She was staring, and now that he was actually smiling—a full, deliriously gorgeous smile—she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

  “Are you drunk?” That had to be the answer for his improved social skills. Or he was high. Probably both.

  He shrugged and took another chug.

  “How many have you had?”

  His brows drew close as he pressed his lips together. He held up his hand and raised one finger, then another, and another, and another, and another. That beautiful smile of his increased, the harshness of his features evaporating as his chest convulsed with a silent chuckle. He shook his head, mouthed the word two, and held up the same amount of fingers.

  Not drunk. Just a master of manipulating her libido.

  “What a shame.” She needed to regain the upper hand before she crumpled into a drooling mess. “I was starting to think you were reaching a level where I could take advantage of you.”

  His focus narrowed. His lips thinned. Then he spread his arms wide. Come get me.

  Holy shit. Did she? Should she? It would only take a step. One slide of her feet and she would be upon him, able to wrap her hands around his neck. She could kiss him, a mere brush of lips, just enough connection to write home to Spencer about and prove she’d moved on.

  He broke eye contact, focusing over her head with a determined frown. The seductive moment faded. Vanished. She turned and watched another car drive into the makeshift parking lot. She couldn’t see the driver, not until the door opened and a slender woman stepped from the car, her long blonde locks falling over her shoulders.

  She glanced at Keenan over her shoulder. He’d stepped back, placing space between them, making her chest hollow with disappointment.

  “Who is th…” Her words trailed as she turned back to face the woman sauntering toward them, her long hair glistening, the deep V of her cleavage evident from the gap in her coat.

  Penny?

  Savannah took a long pull of her wine spritzer, fighting nausea as the sexy bombshell maneuvered through mingling drinkers. Her smile was wide—white, flawless teeth surrounded by sultry red lipstick.

  Dominic appeared at Savannah’s side. “Prepare for battle.”

  She released a nervous laugh and clung to the reassurance of the alcoholic beverage in her hands. Everything about the approaching woman daunted her—the sureness of her stride, the confidence in her straightened shoulders, the way she bit her lip as she focused on Keenan.

  “Brother.” Penny shouldered past Dominic.

  Savannah stood motionless, dumbstruck, as her cousin wrapped her arms around Keenan and placed a kiss on his cheek, her lipstick leaving a red stain in its wake. Penny played the role of a reunited lover, ignoring the world around her as she bent her knee and whispered words into Keenan’s ear. Only his response skewed the image. He didn’t return the affection. The harsh lines of his features returned. His mouth was thin. His jaw tight and nostrils flared.

  “Hi, Penny.” Savannah kept her baby blues on Keenan, hoping to increase his discomfort. Moments ago he was flirting with her. Now he had another woman draped over him.

  Typical male.

  Her cousin stiffened as she wrapped one arm around his waist and turned to face her.

  “Savvy? I almost didn’t recognize you.” Penny’s nose crinkled. “You look so old now.”

  Savannah smiled through the insult. The blatant cruelty announced loud and clear any communication—business or otherwise—was going to be a barrel-load of fun.

  Their two-year age gap meant everything when they were children. Development and interests set them miles apart. Not now, though. Over time the divide disappeared.

  “And I go by Penelope now, not Penny.”

  “Christ. Don’t be such a bitch.” Dominic shot Savannah a sympathetic look. “I’m going to get another drink.”

  He strolled away, leaving them in torturous silence. If this was what Savannah had to expect from her cousin in a good mood, she’d hate to see her during shark week.

  “Sorry, Penelope.” She kept her smile tight. “I actually hoped we’d catch up tonight so we could speak about the Grandiosity takeover. There’s been staff—”

  “Do you know how surprised I was to hear you were a part of the failing hotel chain?” Penny was glib. “The sale must be embarrassing for all of you.”

  Heat consumed Savannah’s cheeks. There were no words. The assault hit too close to home. It was embarrassing. For everyone involved—local staff and head office management included.


  Keenan cleared his throat and stepped to the side, extricating himself from Penny’s touch. But it was too late. She couldn’t separate them. They were one and the same. Two beautiful people capable of claiming the title for most accomplished assholes in the state of Washington.

  “Would you look at that?” She raised the wine spritzer to her lips, chugged the remaining contents, and lowered it with a deep exhale. “I think I need another drink, too.”

  Screw Penny and her need to overcompensate for childhood issues. They didn’t have to get along. They didn’t have to speak. As long as her cousin stayed out of Rydel business until settlement, Savannah wouldn’t have to kick the prissy bitch’s ass in the most non-literal way possible.

  And screw Keenan for making her wonder if the seduction she sensed earlier was even real. Now she had to drown her libido in alcohol to ensure she flushed him out of her system.

  Chapter Six

  Savannah stood on her own, her back to the bonfire. She snuggled into her jacket and yanked up the collar to fight the lowering temperature. The heat on her legs was sublime. Almost painful. The slight burning took her mind off Penny, Keenan, and the growing need to pee.

  There were no toilets out here. None. And now that she cradled her third wine spritzer, her bladder was determined not to let her forget.

  “Hey, sweet thang,” a male slurred from beside her.

  She palmed the unopened bottle in her hand and shot him an unimpressed look. “Hey…”

  “You single?”

  She chuckled and went back to staring at the impressive hedge that separated them from the wealth of the house yard. “Who’s asking?”

  “They call me Fox.”

  Of course they did. “Well, Fox, you’re extremely forthright.”

  “When I want something, I usually take it.”

  Unfortunately, her vagina wasn’t on offer. To him, at least. Keenan, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. Even with the question of his relationship status hovering in the back of her mind, she still had to fight the need to turn and seek him out through the flames.

  “You lookin’ to get laid?”

  She breathed through the need to snort and looked at him with sincerity. “Come on, Fox, you can do better than that. You need to woo me.” She gripped the cap of her unopened wine spritzer and, yet again, tried in vain to twist it off.

  A tingle ignited in her neck and she wiggled her shoulders, trying to brush away the sensation that someone was watching her. She knew it was her imagination. Her hormones, to be more specific. She wanted Keenan to be looking at her, his appraisal raking over her skin.

  “Woo you?” Fox swayed from side to side and kicked the dust up at his feet. “How?”

  A throat cleared behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find Keenan. Right there. He was less than a foot away, his striking presence hovering over her. He reached out and gripped her wine spritzer. Time stopped as he brushed her hand away and twisted the cap.

  “Thanks.” She turned to face him, grateful that Fox took the hint and slinked away. “Ditched the girlfriend, did you?”

  There was no response, only sterile silence. She lowered her attention to the ground. To his large brown boots, not wanting to break the ice between them. At some point he had to give her something, anything, to fracture the awkwardness.

  But apparently that time wasn’t now.

  “Did you know there’s no bathrooms around here?” She looked up through her lashes, thankful that the bitter bite of annoyance had left his eyes. “A guy at the cooler told me to squat behind a tree.” There was almost humor in his gray depths.

  “Squat,” she continued. “Behind a freakin’ tree.” She was a city girl. If there weren’t toilets, you didn’t go to the bathroom. You held your bladder. Until you initiated kidney failure, if necessary. “I’m at the point where I either have to stop drinking to avoid the carnage, or become comfortable with a higher level of intoxication so it isn’t mentally scarring when I drop my pants in public.”

  His lips lifted at one side, a lazy grin she wished she witnessed more often. He shot a quick glance over her head, past the bonfire, then grabbed her wrist and gently tugged.

  “What?” She looked over her shoulder to find Penny with her back turned. “Are you hiding from her?” She wanted to add, “You big girl,” but held her tongue.

  Keenan tugged her again, regaining her focus as he began walking backward. He wanted her to follow, but where? A few feet away? To the shadows?

  She stumbled after him, the heat of the fire leaving her body and an entirely different warmth enveloping her from the inside out. As darkness surrounded them, she chanced another look toward the partygoers and made eye contact with a glowering Dominic.

  Yep, I’m disappearing with a stranger. Please come looking for me if I don’t return. She smiled at him, ignoring his concern, and two-stepped to catch up with Keenan’s confident stride.

  “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t stop. His grip held tight on her wrist, never loosening, and she didn’t want it to. The noise of the party faded and the sound of her boots crunching in the grass became clearer. So did the pounding in her chest. He led them to a gap in the head-high hedge and pulled her into seclusion.

  “Keenan?”

  He stopped and turned to face her, their breath fogging in the frigid night air. He didn’t gift her with a wicked curve of his lips. No. He was far better than that. He simply stared at her, his interest brushing over her facial features until he paused at her mouth.

  She couldn’t help the reaction to lick her drying lips. It was instinctual. The same way her nipples hardened and her pussy tingled.

  He raised her hand to chest level, his friendly grip around her wrist changing to something more when he brought them palm to palm and entwined their fingers. She didn’t have time to cherish the rough texture of his skin, or concentrate on the way his thumb slowly brushed hers, because he started walking again, leading her along a stone path.

  She tip-toed, well aware they were trespassing, but unwilling to pull her hand from his grasp. Perfectly trimmed knee-high hedges bordered their way forward, and the darkness grew the closer they approached the overbearing house. Large white pillars held up curved balconies with glass banisters. Each window had the curtains pulled closed, not a glimpse of the inside visible.

  “Isn’t this private property?”

  He didn’t answer. Not in words or movements.

  There were still no lights on inside, and the possibility that no one was home should’ve lessened the fear scorching her veins.

  “Do you know who lives here?”

  He tugged on her hand, making her realize she’d stopped in the middle of the path. She didn’t want to move. At least not in a forward motion.

  He tugged again, and her feet complied.

  “Keenan,” she hissed.

  He stopped, huffed, and pulled her close, their feet bare inches apart. She swallowed over the restriction in her throat, and fell a little further under his spell from the glow of the moonlight on his skin.

  “Do you know who lives here?” Her voice was so soft she could barely hear it.

  He focused on her eyes and his nostrils flared. She didn’t know what was happening. What they were doing. She only knew her body was overheating even though her breath fogged between them.

  “Keenan.” God, she loved the sound of her voice whispering his name. “Are they home?”

  He raised a finger to her mouth, held it there, and made her yearn to lick it away with each second that ticked by. He bit his lower lip, still staring, still standing so close. Then she was left reeling when he turned back to the path and continued to lead her forward, not stopping until they reached the corner of the building.

  “Okay.” Enough was enough. “I’m all for breaking the rules every now and again, but breaking the law is a little different.”

  He tugged her toward a nearby door and crouched down, scouring the g
round underneath a leafy shrub. There was another breathy huff, then he moved to the garden on the other side of the doorway and performed the same scavenging ritual. When he sat back on his haunches, the shiny silver key in his hand incited nausea to pool in her belly.

  “You must know who lives here.” He had to if he knew where the key was, right?

  She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t enter someone’s house without an invitation. What was that even called? They weren’t breaking into anything, but they were entering without permission.

  “Keenan.”

  He stood, brushed his hands together, and maneuvered behind her, leaving her to face the door.

  Oh, hell no. “You know what?” she whispered. “You’re hot, mysterious, and tempting as hell, but this is really pushing my boundaries.”

  His body sank into her back and he placed a hand over her mouth. She was nervous, scared, yet horribly, achingly aroused. Her heart was hammering, her pulse echoing in her ears, and all the while, the hardness of his chest resting against her was far too enjoyable for words.

  She clung to his wrist that hovered near her face and moved with him as he leaned forward, inserting the key into the lock. There was a twist and a push, then the door was ajar, the pitch black of inside looming frighteningly close.

  She shook her head. Nope. Not going in there.

  The heat of his breath tickled her neck, and his scent filled her lungs. Her breathing grew heavier, faster, then his nose nuzzled gently below her ear and she was lost. Sensations overwhelmed her. Desire constricted her chest.

  Her world was condensed to him and her. The two of them—the grip of his hand over her mouth, the hardness of an unmistakable erection against her ass, the palpitations of her heart as she fought not to turn in his arms.

  His hips bucked and she stumbled over the threshold, the heavy clunk of her heels echoing loudly against the tiled floor.

  She froze.

  He froze.

  He pressed his hand tighter over her mouth and she stopped breathing altogether. She was caught between the temptation of pleasure and the possibility of a criminal record. His fingers drifted away from her lips and his body heat descended, from her back to her ass then her legs. He crouched behind her, his palm sweeping over her calf, down to her ankle.