Demolished

by Cathryn Fox

  I grab the soap, about to lather my body when he takes it from me. Bubbles form in his palms and he sets the bar down and runs his big, callused hands over my flesh.

  “One more thing,” he says as he turns me. His hands touch my shoulders, feather down my back, and he cups my cheeks.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You let me do things for you.”

  “You are doing things for me. You’re fixing my house.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Sean, I’m not your responsibility.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s like this, when you need a damn mattress picked up, or anything else, you ask.”

  “Like how you want me to ask when I want you to fuck me?”

  He goes still behind me and I can’t help but grin. It secretly thrills me to know I can reduce this big, monster of a guy speechless.

  He clears his throat. “Yeah, like that.”

  I wiggle my ass and he growls in my ear. “If you keep that up, I’m going to fuck this sweet ass of yours.”

  Now it’s my turn to go still. “I’ve never—”

  “I know,” he says, and rakes his teeth over my shoulder. “How much time do we have before you have to work?”

  His hard cock presses against my back. “Half hour.”

  “I’ll be fast,” he says.

  Dizzy with need, I turn to him, run my hands over his body. “Fast works,” I say, much too anxious to feel him inside me again. I touch his cock and quiver as he swells even more. It’s big and hard, and—designed solely for my pleasure. He reaches between my legs and thrusts two fingers deep inside me. My knees go weak and he turns my body, and wraps a strong, supportive arm around me. He plunges deep, and presses his palm to my needy clit. I clutch at his arms and rock my hips.

  “God, Sean.”

  “I need to be in here,” he murmurs, as he bends to rake his teeth over my shoulder. “Tell me you need that, too.”

  “I need that too,” I say my voice coming out on a breathless whisper. He pulls his fingers from me, and spins me back to face him. He grips my hips and lifts me and I wrap my legs around him and he backs me up until I’m pressed against the shower, the hot water on his back. His eyes are dark, hard, dangerously ravenous as he shifts me, the long length of his cock pressing against my sex. He’s hard as hard as granite, like we hadn’t just had sex outdoors. I wiggle, trying to get him inside, but then still completely, when little alarm bells jangle in my brain.

  “Sean, wait.”

  He presses his forehead against mine. “Jesus fuck, please tell me you’re not having second thoughts.”

  “No. It’s just . . . condom . . . you’re not wearing a condom.”

  “Shit, you’re right.”

  He loosens his hold on me but I squeeze my legs around him to prevent him from leaving. “Wait. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”

  What am I doing?

  He meets my gaze, looks me over. “I’m clean, too. I’ve never had unprotected sex before. You can trust me.”

  Do I trust Sean? Yes, I do. I always have. But I won’t burden him with my problems.

  I press my mouth to his, and as he kisses me back, he powers into me. I gasp.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, as he rocks his hips. My breasts rub against his chest with each hard thrust, and my clit slams against his pelvis. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, all I can do is hang on with my hands and legs as he fucks me fast.

  “I want my cum inside you,” he growls, his mouth on my neck, tasting, licking, nipping. “I’ve never needed my cum in anyone, but I need it in you.”

  My breath is coming faster now, and no way am I going to analyze this situation, why he needs his cum in me or why I’m having sex with Sean, no condom, no barriers. Skin on skin. It’s a mistake. I know it is, but when I leave Blue Bay, I’ll have plenty of time to examine my behavior, the way this man makes me feel so many foreign things. Right now, I just want to enjoy the sensations he’s rousing in me.

  He slams me against the shower stall, and I scratch at his back as he fucks me hard, harder than ever before, like he’s running from his demons on the open highway, full throttle on his motorcycle.

  “Yes,” I cry out, and his mouth closes over mine to capture the sound. Our tongues tangle, play, thrash as we exchange greedy kisses that will leave us bruised. He works me up and down on his cock and I heave in a breath, my body near the breaking point. The rough scruff on his face chafes my neck and I love the sensations. Lightning flashes through me, crashes over me, and I shudder in surrender.

  “Sean,” I cry out as I explode. I shake around his cock, shatter completely. He holds me as I ride it out the waves, then his fingers fist in my wet hair.

  “Don’t move,” he growls and I still as his cock fills with blood and swells even more inside me. He rocks into me once, twice, then throws his head back.

  “Ooh,” I cry out as hot seed fills me, warming my body from the inside out. I have never felt pleasure quite like it. I sigh, and rest my head on his shoulder, and he peppers my neck with hot, openmouthed kisses.

  “Every time, just like that,” he murmurs against my flesh.

  I laugh, giddy with endorphins. “If you’re promising that, I’ll never get to work.”

  His rumble of laughter falls over my flesh, and he inches back. “Right. Work.”

  I slide from his body, and instantly miss his warmth. Not wanting to think too much about that, I slip back under the spray, but the water has chilled. I yelp, rinse quickly, and climb out. Sean follows me, and grabs a big fluffy towel off the hook. He wraps me in it, and gives me a slap on the ass to set me into motion.

  “You’d better hurry or you’re going to be late.”

  I rush from the room, but my feet come to a resounding halt when I hear my cell phone ringing from the depths of my purse in the other room. I stand there, my heart hammering against my chest. In my haste to get away from Jack, I never took the time to cancel my phone or change the number. Then, after having a landline installed here at the cottage, I never gave it another thought, since I had no intentions of using it and risk getting tracked. If it’s Jack calling does he really think I’m stupid enough to answer.

  “Jenna,” Sean says, his hand brushing my arm, his solid chest against my back, providing comfort, support.

  “Yeah?” I ask without turning. No way do I want Sean to see my face. He’s too good at reading me.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  “No.”

  He spins me around and our gazes tangle. I meet with eyes that are dark, dangerous . . . murderous. Body rigid, agitated, the muscles along his jaw clench, the way they always do when he’s troubled. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me?”

  I open my mouth, wanting to tell this big, strong protective man my troubles, but they’re my troubles not his, and even though he makes me feel safe, I can’t put all this on him.

  Instead of blurting out the truth I say, “I’m sure.” My phone stops ringing and I exhale a breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding. Towel wrapped around me, I walk to the kitchen, to find my phone. I glance at the number, but it looks like it’s some telemarketer.

  I make light of the situation and say, “No one knows the number so I figured it had to be telemarketer. That’s why I didn’t answer.”

  Sean knots his towel around his waist and takes the phone from me. Before I can stop him, he slides his finger over the screen to open it, then punches in his contact information. Then he pulls up mine. “Now I know the number and you have mine.” He hands it back. “Now, next time it rings, you might not be so spooked.”

  “Wait,” I say. “Use my landline.” I grab a piece of paper, jot down the number and hand it to him.

  “Is there some reason you don’t want me using this phone?”

  “Data roaming,” I say. Dammit, I should have just tossed the phone. “I fo
rgot to look into an add-on plan for here in Blue Bay.”

  He gives me a look that suggests I might be bending the truth. I am. But no way can I let him know the real reason why he can’t call me.

  Chapter Eight: Sean

  After two rounds of sex with Summer earlier today—yeah, in my head she’s Summer but I’ll call her Jenna if that’s the way she still wants to play it—I spend the rest of the afternoon at the town council trying to get building permits to do work on the Cassidy place. I hit a wall at every turn, held back by so much red tape I was damn near ready to strangle someone with it. I’m in a pretty pissed-off mood as I sit at table across from my brother, one eye on him, the other on Summer as I suck back a cold beer. I twirl the bottle, take a long pull, then slam it down onto the wooden table much harder than necessary.

  “What the fuck is the matter with you anyway?” Tyler asks, flicking a beer cap over and under his fingers. He’s as restless and edgy as I am tonight, no doubt itching for a fight.

  “You know what’s the matter with me,” I say.

  “We’ll get the permits. I’m sure of it.”

  I’m not, and if we don’t get them soon, Tyler won’t be able to build the addition to the Cassidy mansion. I’ve sunk ever cent I earned into the business, and I’ll be damned if I let it fail because Walker has them stalling at city hall. I have no proof it’s him, of course, but after he learned I wasn’t just here to bury dad, but also to get his business up and running again with all the Owens boys returning home, I knew he’d try to find a way to run us out of town. When I saw him coming from city hall, a shit-eating grin on his face, my gut told me he was the one trying to stall things until I ran the business into the ground, and we all rode back to where we came from. He might have a lot of pull, but money goes a long way, too. What I really need is a crap load of bills to go down there and grease some palms.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch Summer. Tray in hand, tight jeans hugging her ass to perfection, she’s serving two dickless assholes a drink, and I don’t fucking like the way they’re looking at her. Tyler turns to see what’s really getting under my skin.

  His grin is wide when he turns back to me. “You got something going with Jenna?”

  I glare at him. No way would he remember her. He was too young back in the day and she’s changed drastically. “So what if I do?”

  He holds his hands up, arms out. “Hey, just asking.” He nods toward the assholes and cracks his knuckles, ready and prepared to pounce at my word. “Want me to help you put their eyes back in their head?”

  “Yeah, I fucking want you to.” I eye my little brother. How long will he last here in Blue Bay? No action, no fighting, just good old hard work with a hammer instead of his fists? We’ve all carved out our own paths in life, none of which involved Blue Bay. I called them all back for the funeral, and to help with the business, but I can’t expect them to give up their lives because I need to be the man Dad needs me to be. If only I had done it sooner, made him proud, but no I was too fucking busy out satisfying my own urges and avoiding the disappointed look on his scowling face. And now that I am back, I should be paying more attention to living up to my responsibilities, and less time thinking about sweet Summer Wheeler.

  Ty pushes from the table and is about to get up when I give a slow shake of my head. “Not in here,” I say. Summer has only been working here for a week and I don’t want to get her in any kind of shit with Beck. He’s a good guy, we go way back, and I respect his one rule: No fighting in Winchesters.

  Outside, however.

  The heavy oak door opens with a bang and my mood lightens when I see Jamie saunter in like he’s on fucking vacation. He glances around, and the corner of his mouth turns up when he spots us in the far corner, our backs to the wall so we can take in everything.

  I lift my beer in salute, and he walks over. Both Ty and I jump up to hug our brother.

  I let Ty go first, then grip Jamie’s T-shirt and pull him in. “About fucking time you got here.” We exchange a hard hug.

  “Unlike you two assholes, I had a life and shit to take care of before I could come home.”

  I look him over, take in his body art. Who would have thought that my little brother would grow up to be an amazing tattoo artist? “I’m glad you’re here,” I say. With only a year separating us in age, Jamie and I were tight growing up. We did everything together, and I miss him like fuck. But like me, he left here years ago, tired of taking shit from the old man, tired of disappointing him. Yeah, sure, Dad was a pillar of society, like by everyone, but he rode his sons hard. Everyone knew it. What I realize now, but didn’t know back then, was that he was just trying to fill the role of both father and mother and make strong men of us—except none of us responded well to his methods. I pull Jamie back in.

  “It’s good to be home,” he says, his voice slightly broken, fractured as he fists my shirt. I work to keep my shit together as I pull back to see him again. He might be a mean motherfucker, in with the gangs down in New Orleans, but when it comes to family, there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect them.

  We stare, but no words need to be said. He has a shit storm going on inside him every bit as much as the rest of us.

  His throat works as he swallows, and he looks at his boots. “I should have come sooner.”

  “Yeah,” I say. We all should have. “Well you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  He looks from me to Ty, then back to me. “Who’s back?”

  “Just us three.”

  “Have you heard from Jared and Jacob?”

  I nod, and push back on two legs as I think about the call I made to our twin brothers. They took the news as hard as the rest of us. “They’re on their way.”

  “What about Ryan, Carter, and Jace?”

  At the mention of our cousins, who we really consider our brothers, I say, “I called everyone.”

  He grabs a chair, spins it around, and drops into it. Arms braced on the back, he signals Summer. When she reaches our table, he narrows his eyes and looks her over. “Do I know you?”

  “Real fucking original,” Ty says, and shoves Jamie.

  “Fuck off,” Jamie shoots back and shoves Ty in return. He doesn’t budge. Instead he laughs and folds his arms across his barrel chest. “Want to take this outside?” he asks.

  “Little fucker,” Jamie says, and jumps up to grab Ty in a headlock. He rubs his knuckles over Ty’s head, in familiar Jamie fashion. Except that might have worked when they were eleven and eight, now not so much. “Need me to show you who’s the big brother here?” he taunts.

  Here we go.

  Ty jumps up, spins and turns the table on Jamie. Chairs fly as he grabs Jamie in a rear naked hold, jumps on his back to lock on, and drags him to the floor. Someone squeals, their drink flying as the two wrestle around on the ground.

  Summer backs up, her eyes wide, and I reach for her hand. Her gaze shoots to mine as I stand and put her behind me. “It’s okay,” I say. “This goes way back to when they were kids. Ty owes him a beat-down for the all noogies Jamie gave him.”

  “Noogies?”

  “I take it you don’t have brothers,” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

  “No, only child.”

  I keep her behind me and she goes up on her toes to see over my shoulder as the guys roughen each other up. After Summer’s mom died, and she left here with her father, I lost track of her. I don’t even know if her father is still alive. Jesus, what would he do if he found out Sean Owens was fucking his little girl? He was always protective of her, and rarely let her out of his sight when he was here in Blue Bay and not out on a naval ship, patrolling our waters.

  He was gone that time I dragged her from the water and gave her mouth-to-mouth. Her mom was on the beach, chatting with her friends, when Summer got a cramp and took in water. When her old man arrived he paid me a visit, told me to stay the fuck away from his daughter. Man, I’d just saved his little girl and that was
his response. Then again, I had a reputation a mile long, and was a poster boy for authority issues, so in a way I can’t blame the man. I guess fathers protect their daughters, and I can’t hold that against him. What he’d failed to realize is that I’d never let anything happen to his daughter—back in the day, or now. Then again, maybe I didn’t want him to see me as anything different, maybe I let him see the worse it me because I feared I couldn’t live up to his expectation either.

  Regardless, no matter what I was doing, swimming, hanging with my brothers, or tearing up the streets, I’d always kept an eye on her. Most times Jamie was with me. I think he knew all about my secret crush. Now that I know she’s on the run, and there are things she’s not telling me, I plan to keep her in my line of sight until I feel her safety is no longer an issue.

  The two guys who’d been eye fucking Summer are looking at my brothers with fear in their eyes. Yeah, they should be scared. I scoff. Those are the kinds of guys Summer’s dad would want her with. Old Blue Bay money. But look at them. One ounce of trouble and they’re pissing in their pants.

  I steal a glance around, take in the group of girls sipping their martinis and getting off on this shit. No doubt my brothers will have one of them warming their beds tonight. Ty gets Jamie on the ground, his arm behind his back as he slams his shoulder into the floor.

  “Tap out, bro, or I’ll break it.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jamie says, and twists, trying to get out of the hold, but no way can he budge the two hundred pounds and then some of solid muscle holding him down. He’s such a stubborn bastard, however, that no way is he going to tap out. Ty will choke hold him until he passes out first. Only problem is a few patrons are getting worked up—they don’t know my brothers are play-fighting. One look at them and you’d think they were trying to kill each other. But since I don’t want any trouble with the law, I need to break this shit up.

  I move Summer back out of the way, so she doesn’t get hit with a flailing arm or leg. She reaches for me, curls her fingers in my shirt and the way she looks to me for protection has my insides coiling. I like being her protector. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” She looks at me with those big eyes like she wants to believe me, needs to believe me, then nods her head and lets her hands fall to her sides.