Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)
Page 18
Leaning in, his lips brushed mine, the barest imitation of a kiss. “You’re the sun, and she’s a firefly, flitting around trying to get everyone’s attention with her shiny ass while you paint the sky yellow and pink and dazzle everyone with your light. Sadie, there’s no comparison.”
“So you notice her ass?” The words came out wobbly, insecurity bleeding through, even as a small smile cracked my lips.
He shook his head, nipping my lower lip hard enough to sting. “Sadie, you’re not listening to me. You’ve blinded me to everyone else. I’m yours. Only yours. For as long as you’ll have me.” His hand cupped my neck, thumb settling over my pulse running wild at the base. “I love you.”
I licked the spot he’d bit, and his eyes darkened. Swallowing hard, I looked into his eyes, knowing this was the pivotal moment. That whatever I said next would determine where we went from here. Closing my eyes, I took a shaky breath, taking a moment to just feel. To quiet my brain and listen to the whisper of my heart, where his name echoed with every beat. When I opened them again, he hadn’t budged, but his muscles were flexed, braced for my decision.
His eyes traced over my features like he was memorizing them. As if he worried this might be the last time he might ever get the privilege. I put my hand on his chest; his heartbeat unsteady against my palm. He covered it with one of his own, holding my fingers to him, pressing me close.
“I love you too.” It wasn’t so much an admission as a truth I could no longer deny. A truth he deserved.
He closed his eyes and took such a deep breath, his chest brushed mine, our hands still caught between us. When they opened, his lips twisted into a wry smile. “So are we basically fighting over the same thing here? That we belong together?”
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped and frowned. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we are.”
Swooping me into his arms and spinning me around, he crushed his lips to mine, stealing my breath and my heart and my tomorrows in one smooth motion. When he finally pulled back, he framed my face in his hands, scattering kisses over my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead. “Do you trust me? God, Sadie, I need you to trust me. Deep down, you have to realize I’d never jeopardize what we have for someone like her.”
“I do. I trust you, West,” I whispered, the conviction in my words even surprising me.
I let go of the last of my lingering misgivings. Let go of the past and wrapped my arms around him and embraced the future. He nuzzled close, whispering all the dirty things he wanted to do to me later, all the things he’d been dreaming of doing to me for weeks. And my heart was so full it threatened to burst, happiness and heat seeping through my veins and settling low in my stomach as I listened to his voice describe all the ways he’d touch me, pleasure me, fill me.
The sharp knocking on the door caught me off guard.
Wary, I clung to West, looking at him as if he knew who dared to disrupt our reunion. The one I kind of hoped to consummate on the couch I’d spied against the wall.
With one arm tucking me close to his side, he pulled open the door a few inches.
“There you are!” The unmistakable and unwelcome sound of Aubrey’s voice spilled into the room, and I couldn’t keep the snarl from forming on my lips.
“Did you need something?” West was brusque, bordering on rudeness.
She tried to push the door open farther, but his foot blocked it.
“Just you,” she purred.
“Enough!” West snapped. He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. The innate authority in his tone silenced any retort she might have had. “This fucking charade has gone on long enough. Whatever pity I once felt for you, whatever façade I tried to keep up for the sake of family harmony—it’s over. I’m not yours. I was never yours. I’m Sadie’s.”
“She’s in there with you, isn’t she?”
I tried to push my way into view, but his arm was like a steel band, keeping me from launching myself at her.
“Yes, and you’re interrupting.” He sounded impatient and started to inch the door closed again.
“I can’t believe you’d choose her over me. Have you seen us together? We’re the perfect all-American couple. And our families would be thrilled. And—”
“Not happening. Ever,” West injected. “Accept it and move on.”
She shrieked. “Did that skank say she’s pregnant? Is she trying to trap you so you can’t leave after she embarrassed you with that vid—”
“Here’s how this is gonna work,” he cut her off before she could spew more venom. Pushing his way fully into the doorway, he faced her head on, but blocked the opening with his shoulders, hiding her from my view. “You will never mention Sadie again. To anyone. You aren’t fit to speak her name. And if I hear any whisper of anything I think might have started from you, those naughty little pictures you so kindly stuffed in my nightstand will find their way to your daddy. I’m guessing it was his money that paid for them? We’ll see what he thinks of his perfect little princess then.”
“You wouldn’t!” She gasped. I could imagine her clutching her throat dramatically. “We have a history, West! We grew up together and—”
“Then quit acting like a spoiled brat and actually try growing up like the rest of us.” Rue’s voice joined the fray, and I took advantage of West’s surprise by slipping past him to stand in the doorway. “Get a job. Pay your own bills.” She glanced at me before smirking at Aubrey. “Find your own man.”
Aubrey’s eyes bounced between us uneasily, perhaps sensing she was outnumbered but clearly not wanting to back down. Her cheeks were flushed, and she had a hand propped on her hip, attitude radiating from her.
Grady strolled around the corner and took up a position behind Rue, not speaking, but staring at Aubrey impassively, making it obvious what he thought without having to say a word.
Turning, she fixed her bright eyes on me, desperation lending a shrill edge to her voice. “You’ve ruined my life! All of my plans. What does he even see in you?”
“Everything.” West laced our fingers together. “I see everything in her.”
“She’s not even pretty!” She threw her hands up in the air, as if that was the worst of it.
With a growl, I took a step toward her at the same time West yanked me back, turning furious eyes her direction. “You. Don’t. Speak. To. Her.”
“Who’s gonna stop me? Looks like you have your hands full. You might need a leash for that bitch.”
“Me.” Rue stepped closer, and drew her fist back. I watched, wide-eyed, as everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Rue’s arm flew forward, her hips twisting to put full power behind the punch, but then Grady was there, stepping between them, and her fist connected solidly with his face, his head jerking back with a snap. I gasped, my hand covering my mouth.
“What did you do?” Rue squeaked, as she rushed to Grady’s side, where he stood hunched over, his hand cupping his eye. “Why did you do that?”
Grady groaned. “Who taught you to punch?”
“My brother!”
“He did a damn good job.” Grady grunted and ignored Rue’s attempts to pull his hand away to see the damage.
“She tried to hit me!” Aubrey yelled. Everyone ignored her. She stomped her foot. “I’m pressing charges. That’s attempted assault.”
“That’s why I stepped in,” Grady said dryly, squinting at Rue through his uninjured eye.
“No one’s pressing charges.” West glared at Aubrey. “You’re going to go back to your little party and keep your mouth shut, and if I hear anything, anything about my friends or Sadie, or see you near my bar, you’re going to find out there’re worse things than not existing to me. Trust me, Aubrey, I’m one enemy you do not want to have.”
She drew herself up to her full height, and searched his eyes. He never wavered. Whatever she saw there must have convinced her, because she wilted in front of us before slinking around the pool house, pausing only to give me one last scathing look.
> I exhaled, the pain that had dug its claws into my ribs relaxing once she was gone. He’d done it. He’d chosen me—us—over her.
But Rue. And Grady. I turned to them, but they were focused on each other, arguing about whether he was fit to drive himself the three miles down the road to his house. Rue was insisting on going with him, in case he’d gotten a concussion, and he was denying that she’d hit him that hard.
“It was a good punch! You’re going have a black eye at least.”
Grady shook his head, but then staggered a step to the side from the motion.
“That does it.” Sticking her hand in his front pants pocket, she withdrew his keys, dangling them triumphantly in there air. “I’m taking you home. Let’s go.”
“Rue,” I called after her as she tried to wrap an arm around Grady.
“You punched my eye,” he snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with my feet.”
She shook her head and looked back at me, shooting me a small grin. “Don’t worry about us. I’ve got this one under control. Now that you two seem to have worked things out, shouldn’t you be having wild make-up sex or something?” She winked.
“Under your control,” Grady muttered, stalking toward the long driveway where the cars were parked. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had me.”
“I could think of a few things,” she said, right on his heels. “I might surprise you.”
He snorted as they rounded the corner.
Stunned, I turned to West. “What just happened?”
He watched them, amusement curling his lips and crinkling his eyes. “Nothing that hasn’t been brewing for a long time.”
I hesitated, unsure what to do next. “Do you need to go back to the gala? Will your grandparents be upset? Do you need to schmooze some more?”
He wrapped his arms around me and placed a soft kiss on my upturned lips. “Fuck the gala. I got everything I need right here.”
WE LEFT THE gala and went straight to his bedroom. We did not pass go, we did not collect two hundred dollars. But for all our rush to get there, he changed speeds once he got me alone.
He unwrapped me slowly, deliberately, as if each part of me was a gift meant to be savored and treasured.
First, my shoes. I held onto his shoulders for balance as he knelt in front of me while his hot breath teased my already damp core. Then, the tiny hidden zipper that ran along my lower back, his lips welcoming each newly exposed inch of skin.
Once my dress was loosened, he lifted the right sleeve off my shoulder, letting it dangle. My nipple barely had a chance to pucker before his palm covered it, lifting and squeezing, molding it to fit his grasp. I gasped, and pushed my chest out further, eager for more. His mouth followed the curve of my jaw, before wandering with painstaking thoroughness down my throat. When he licked the hollow at the bottom, I melted, putty in his skilled hands.
I’d expected him to hurry. For the clothes to fly and the bed to squeak within moments of entering his room. But he seemed intent on reminding me what we’d been missing out on while we were apart.
The slow, sweet heat that came from a long-banked fire.
My hands were restless, unsure if they preferred the solid muscles of his shoulders or the thick softness of his hair, unable to settle in just one location, but instead seeking to touch as much of him as possible. He’d slipped off his jacket and discarded his tie on the way over, but his torso was still hidden from sight. When I tried to push him back so I could get to the buttons of his shirt, he shook his head, dipping down until he could suck on my aching nipple. I forced my hands between us, opening the buttons blindly while he tormented me.
The other sleeve of my dress slid free while I worked on baring his chest, and I dropped my arms long enough to allow it to slither to the floor, a whisper of fabric forgotten in an instant when his hand came up to cup my other breast, rolling my nipple in a mimic of his lips. I inhaled sharply then pressed him closer, my nails scraping his scalp. A soft moan escaped me when he bit down before he switched his attention to the other side.
He might have been content to take it slow, but I needed more. Grabbing both sides of his partially opened shirt, I yanked hard, scattering the remaining buttons around the room, the pings of them bouncing over the hardwood floor sounding like muted applause for my impulsive action.
He smirked, swatted my ass in acknowledgement, but refused to be rushed. He licked the lower swells of my breasts and kneaded my ass, ignoring the way I leaned against him, trying to get some friction, hell, any kind of attention, where I wanted it most.
When I tugged on his dark hair in an effort to speed him along, he leaned back on his heels, and captured both my wrists. Placing one firmly alongside my thigh, with a pointed look that told me not to move it, he lifted the other in front of him, massaging each part in turn—the heel, the palm, the length of each finger, and the tender spaces between them, and the base of my thumb. He kissed each fingertip reverently, then the delicate skin of my inner wrist where my pulse throbbed. The other hand received the same meticulous attention, and it was all I could do to keep my knees from buckling by the time he finished.
Who knew my hands would be my erogenous kryptonite?
Unable to wait a second longer, I cupped his jaw and yanked upwards, meeting him halfway in a kiss that I felt all the way to my soul. He rose to his feet, taking over control, slanting my head so he could stroke deeper into my mouth.
His tongue was a sin I would happily burn for.
We tangled, fought, dueled, and surrendered, each taste more drugging than that last. There was only his warm lips and his hands in my hair and his breath mixing with mine. Hair pins scattered, and my curls fell around us, as untamed as our kiss.
I shoved at his shirt, until it finally joined my dress on the floor. Finally, my hands were free to roam his torso unfettered. I traced the grooves of his abdomen, smoothed over the broad planes of his chest, and sought out his dark, flat nipples. Tearing my mouth away from his, I flicked one with my tongue, peering up at him through my lashes to see his reaction.
He exhaled harshly in surprise, curling his hands around my shoulders to hold me back and twisting away from me. “That tickles.” Nudged partially off balance, I caught myself on his forearms, grinning in triumph at catching him unaware.
Following the line of his arm from his shoulders down over his tattoo that seemed to dance with his flexing biceps, my gaze stuttered on his wrist.
My royal blue hair tie.
It was still there. A bit faded and stretched out, like he never took it off, it quietly proclaimed his unwavering intentions. I rubbed it with my thumb. Had it been there this whole time? Back at Anchor, before I left? And in Tennessee? I hadn’t looked, hadn’t noticed.
My amusement faded, and I looked back at his face, at the hungry intensity in his eyes. My eyes filled as emotions flooded me. Guilt for doubting him, relief that we’d moved past our obstacles, a fierce joy to be able to call this gorgeous man in front of me mine.
We stared for a long moment, making promises without words.
And then stillness was no longer an option.
I hitched my leg over his hip and attacked his mouth with a new fervency that bordered on anguish, needing to apologize for my part of our separation these last weeks. With an appreciative growl at my initiative, he took the hint, lifting me so I could wrap my legs around his waist, giving me a slight height advantage. As he moved us toward the bed, I forced his head back, turning into the aggressor, unable to get enough of his mouth.
I delved deep, nipping his lower lip, and chasing his tongue until I was panting for air and had to draw back, keeping my forehead pressed to his, unwilling to let even that much space separate us. His eyes glowed fever-bright, hot lust mixed with dark passion.
He leaned forward at the hips, lowering me to the bed. When he started to rise, I made a sound of protest, trying to pull him back to me, but he shook his head.
“You first. Always.”
I lifted my pelvis, impatient words falling from my lips. His name, curses, pleas, anything I thought might work to speed him along, but they all fell on deaf ears. His hands smoothed up my stomach until they cupped my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers while he ghosted a kiss right over my entrance, refusing to be rushed.
I squeezed my legs, trying to keep him there, press him closer, but he pinched one tight peak in warning, and I relaxed my thighs reluctantly, starting a slow grind of my hips instead.
“West.” His name was both a demand and a request wrapped in one.
He tongue made teasing forays, quick dips, soft passes. I dug my hands into his hair and tugged restlessly. He mouthed my lips, sucking on first one and then the other, before flattening his tongue and dragging it right up my center, finally giving me the pressure I craved.
He lifted his mouth just slightly, so when he spoke, I felt the words against my heated flesh. “Fuck, I’ve missed the way you taste.”
I almost came right then.
Lowering his head, he devoured me in earnest, his lips and tongue a beautiful torment. And then he did what I wanted most, what I needed. He focused his attention on my clit, sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, plying me with his lips until I lingered right on the edge.
My breathing was ragged at best, grabbing just enough oxygen to keep from passing out. I fisted my hands in his hair and urged him closer, lifted my hips, arched my breasts into his palms.
I was so, so close.
And when he plunged two fingers inside of me, twisting when he was fully embedded, I imploded.
Thighs squeezed and hands fisted and spine curved, all trying to keep him right there right there right there oh God yes don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop!