Demolished

by Cathryn Fox

  “Yeah, just . . . everything in here reminds me of Summer.” His body tightens. “It’s been a long time. It wasn’t quite the same around here after she left.”

  I swallow against the lump punching into my throat, because I miss Summer, too. Pretending to be Jenna is getting harder and harder, especially with Sean, but my father’s instructions were to trust no one. I’m hardly following that advice with Sean, though. Back in the day he never liked Sean, and if he knew I was with him now, calling him when I was scared, he’d turn over in his grave.

  “Room’s clear.” He turns, and puts his hand on the knob to my parents’ room and a sound catches in my throat. He reaches behind him, gives my hip a squeeze. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I lie. The door yawns open like a sealed casket. After searching it earlier, I pinch my eyes shut against the memories, not wanting to look again. Breath held, I recite the alphabet, anything to keep the pain at bay. But I can’t. I shake, almost violently.

  “Clear in here, too.” Sean turns, and I open my eyes to find him watching me. Head dipped, he pulls me to him and presses a kiss to my forehead. His breath is warm on my face, and his hair falls forward to tickle my cheeks. “It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Ever again.”

  For a minute I wonder if he’s talking about the noise I heard, or does he know what opening that door has done to me, how it’s dredged up so many painful past memories? He holds me for a long time, then puts me behind him again.

  “One more room,” he whispers. The door to the room I’m sleeping in is open and he steps inside. “Come here.” He turns, puts his arm around me and leads me to the bed. “The house is clear. I want you to stay here while I check outside.”

  I nod, grip one of the stuffed toys and hold it to my chest. He stands there for a long time, just staring at me. “What?” I finally ask.

  “Nothing.”

  He turns to leave and I say, “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  His boots echo on the wood floors, and the front door creaks open and closes with a soft thud. The house goes silent, eerily silent and I hug the toy harder as I wait. A few minutes later a noise finally penetrates the quiet.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” The heavy front door closes and the lock clicks in place

  A fluttery breath escapes my throat. “Okay, good.”

  He fills the bedroom doorway, the calm in my storm, yet a different kind of storm going on inside him. I feel it in his every breath, his every movement. He, too, is on the run, but my gut tells me his demons live inside him, and no way in hell can he outrun them.

  “A raccoon tipped over your garbage cans.”

  Thank God.

  Still, it’s a good reminder to never let my guard down, never to think I’m safe. I’m about to stand, thank him, and walk with him back to the front door, but he’s tugging his shirt over his head, and kicking off his pants and boots.

  “What . . . are you doing?”

  “I’m staying,” he whispers, rough and low, then pulls his phone from his pocket to send a text.

  I stare at the phone. “It’s okay, you don’t—”

  He fires off the text and sets his phone on the nightstand. “Just letting my brother know everything is okay and I’m staying, now get in that bed, or I’ll toss you in it.”

  The last thing I expected was for him to stay the night. Then again, maybe I did but I can’t put him out like that. “But—”

  His sharp glare stops me, and when he takes a threatening step, I remove my robe, but have only my nightie on underneath, no panties. From the look on his face, I have no time to worry about that. I climb between the sheet and scurry to the other side of the bed. He slides in behind me. “Come here.” I shuffle backward, and press against the warm strength of his body. He puts his arms around me and drags me closer. Tension leaves my body and my shoulders relax. At no point in my adult life have I ever felt this protected—and in so many ways that a danger to me.

  “Sleep,” he whispers against the shell of my ear and I close my eyes. His warmth and comfort pull me under, and the next thing I know, the morning sun is seeping into my room. I blink, and rub my eyes, unable to orient myself. But then I realize I’m at the cottage and Sean slept in my bed with me last night. My heart warms, little flutters erupting in my stomach as I think about the way he’d come to my rescue, spooned me, covering me with his big warm body and comforting touch while I drifted off to sleep.

  I flip over, but the other side of the mattress is empty, the sheets mussed. I touch it, find the sheet cold. I peer at the clock, and can’t believe it’s ten in the morning. Good God, I never sleep in this late, and I have to be to work at noon. Must be this fresh seaside air making me groggy, and Sean’s body wrapped around me, protecting me from monsters like raccoons in the garbage can. I listen for sounds of hammering on the roof, but none reaches my ears.

  I push the blankets off and reach for my robe, my body still sore from yesterday’s outdoor sex followed by a hot session in the shower. A quiver moves through me at the erotic memories. Honest to God, I still can’t believe I did that. But Sean is becoming an addiction that I can’t quit. I walk quietly down the hall and I find him in the kitchen preparing breakfast. I go still, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the morning admiring him unobserved.

  My gaze travels over his back, the way his T-shirt pulls tight and stretches over his muscles as he moves. I inspect his jeans, the crazy way they hug his perfect ass. The things this man does to me without even trying are catastrophic and I want him again. I know getting in deeper with him isn’t smart or rational, but since running away from my ex, very few of my actions have “brilliant” and “sensible” written all over them.

  As if sensing my eyes on him, he turns slowly, spatula in hand.

  “You’re up.”

  “Can’t get anything by you,” I tease, and wonder what else might be up on this beautiful Monday morning.

  My gaze instantly drops to his crotch before I can stop myself. I linger for a moment, admire the bulge in his jeans. Sean makes a sound and I quickly jerk my head up and meet his gaze. That all-knowing grin spreads across his face. God, how freaking embarrassing to be caught blatantly checking him out.

  “Have you been awake long?” I ask, and pad across the floor to the kitchen island.

  He points his spatula at something. “Long enough.” I follow the direction, and when I see a grande Starbucks cup, my head comes back in surprise. “Did you—”

  He turns his back to me to tend to the stove. “Yeah.”

  “Sean, that was so sweet of you.”

  “I had to go into Hope Falls.” Broad shoulders shrug. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Not to you but it is to me. Is it an Americano?”

  He nods. “You’ll have to warm it up. It’s been sitting there for an hour.”

  I can’t believe he remembered what I liked. I’m so . . . touched. “You are so sweet,” I say again.

  “I’ve been called a lot of things, and ‘sweet’ was never one of them.”

  “Well, you are.”

  He turns, and holds up the spatula, his eyes dark as they rake over me. “You want me to come over there and show you just how ‘not sweet’ I am?” I can’t say I don’t like his idea.

  “Maybe.”

  “Jesus, girl.” He points to the stool at the island. “Sit.”

  “Bossy much?”

  “Sit,” he says again and scowls at me.

  “Fine, I’ll sit. Let me heat this up first.” I hurry to the microwave and warm up my coffee. He stands close beside me and I revel in his warmth and familiarity. The microwave beeps and I reach for my drink, open the lid, take a much needed sip. I let loose a low slow moan, much like the way Sean had made me moan yesterday. “Oh my God. Sean, that is so good.” His body goes stiff. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

  “You make those same moans when I’m inside you.” He raises a
brow. “Is the coffee really that good?”

  “Up until that night at Dick’s I’d say an Americano was better than sex,” I admit.

  He rubs the scruff on his chin, his eyes darker. “And now?”

  “Not so much.” He nods like that pleases him and I breathe in the delicious scents filling the kitchen as I finger comb my hair in some feeble effort to make myself presentable. “What smells so good?”

  “Bacon.”

  He is a man of little words today. What’s going on inside the busy brain of his? “Where did you get it? I didn’t pick up any bacon.”

  “Butcher in Hope Falls. Best bacon around, and believe me, I’ve been around.”

  I crinkle my nose and wiggle until I’m comfortable on the island stool. “You went all the way to Hope Falls for bacon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I thought it had something to do with work.”

  “No.”

  I study the rigid way he moves and take in the stiffness in his back as he slides a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast across the counter. I want to get in there, help him work out the kink, but I can’t give too much of myself away.

  “Gotta love a man who can cook.” Love? Oh, God, don’t give him the wrong idea, Summer. “I mean—”

  “Eat,” he says and slides in beside me with his own plate. His jean-clad thigh lightly brushes mine as he sits. A quiver races through me, awakening all my senses. Honest to God, how can a nonsensual touch feel so sensual? Then again this is Sean I’m talking about. Everything with him feels sensual, even eating breakfast.

  Having him in my bed last night was sensual, even though he hadn’t touched me sexually. Instead every sweep of his hand, every tug of my body was soothing, comforting, just what I needed. How is it after all these years this man still knows what I need—and when I need it—much like when we were kids?

  My mind trips back. Sometimes I couldn’t see him, but always felt him in the background when we were young. He was there to give mouth-to-mouth the day I nearly drowned. He’d used the spare change in his pocket to replace the ice cream that had fallen from my cone, and that day when one of the boys in the cottage just down the road from mine started taunting me about my beginner’s bra, Sean was there to give him a beating. That didn’t go over too well with the vacationers, or the law. That night my mother drove home the fact that I needed to stay clear of the Owens boys. She never knew he was protecting me—the same way he always protected his brothers and cousins. I didn’t dare defend him, for fear that Mom and Dad would keep me from Blue Bay. After Mom died though, everything had changed. I changed. While Sean might still be that protective boy from my youth, he’s changed, too. There is something dark inside him. Living, breathing, brewing just below the surface. I see it when he doesn’t know I’m looking.

  I toss a piece of bacon into my mouth and my eyes go wide. “You weren’t kidding, this is delicious.”

  “Double smoked and cut thick,” he says. “That’s why it’s so good.”

  I grab another piece and chew. “I don’t normally even eat breakfast.”

  “No.”

  “Nope.” I lift my Starbucks. “Just coffee. If I eat like this every day I’ll be a whale.”

  He turns slowly, his heated gaze raking over my curves. I feel it everywhere, and it makes my body burn hotter. “While I’m staying here, you’ll be eating breakfast.” His voice is low, quiet, almost unrecognizable

  I spin on my chair. “Staying here?”

  “Yeah.” He turns from me, digs into his eggs and takes a big bite, but his breathing is a little uneven.

  “Sean.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t need you to stay here. Last night I just got spooked.”

  He glares at me. “I’m staying.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You can keep your secrets,” he warns his voice hard, unwavering. “But I’m staying.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but in a move that takes my completely by surprise, he stands over me, pressing my back into the counter, his hands on either side of me. His eyes are dark, dangerous, his body sleek and solid. I let out a fluttery breath. He might be a warrior, but I feel so insulated in his arms, like nothing or no one can get to me.

  “If you keep protesting, I’m going to put something in this mouth to stop you.” I shiver at his dirty words as they trigger a flashback to last night, to when he said he needed his cock in my mouth. Lust hits like a triple shot of tequila. Dizzy with need, my breath catches, and I part my lips. A flick of my tongue moistens my mouth, a confession that I want that, too.

  “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers, and rakes his thumb over my mouth, rough, hard—a move that has ownership all over it. Flames spark inside me, my body responding to the need in his eyes. He pushes his thumb into my mouth and I suck hard. My sex clenches and the heat in my body spreads onward and outward.

  “You want that?” he asks, the intensity in the way he’s looking at me burns through me, and settles deep between my quivering legs.

  “Yes.”

  “You want my cum in here.” He moves his finger inside my mouth, swirling it around my tongue.

  I nod, and suck him hard, wanting everything he has to give me. His nostrils flare, the green in his eyes deeper, a wild animal stalking the dark night, hunting its prey. He’s going to claim me, I can barely breathe with excitement.

  His hands go to my shoulder and he pushes down. “On your knees,” he demands.

  Without question, I drop to the floor, and he grips my hair as I rip into his jeans. Limbs shaking, I free his magnificent cock.

  “See what you do to me,” he murmurs.

  I nod, loving that I can do this to him. I touch him and my hands looks so small and delicate on his shaft, feel cool as I stroke his long, hot length. I lean forward and his beautiful cock fattens before my eyes as I lick the throbbing tip. His hands rasp my shoulder as he jerks forward and nudges my mouth, demanding entrance.

  God, he tastes good. Sweet and tangy, distinctly male and I want more. As my whole world becomes his cock, I run my tongue over his shaft, lick his crown, then widen my mouth to take him in.

  “That’s it,” he groans, his voice tight. “Take me deep.”

  I rock forward until I can’t breathe, but I don’t care about that either. I want to hear his growls, his moans, want to have him shoot his cum down my throat. I want to eat him, drink him in, stay between his legs like this forever.

  “Baby, I can’t wait to get my mouth on your sweet pussy again.” He groans and I record the sound to play it over and over in my head later, loving the way it vibrates through me. I pulse with a need so scary my heartbeat speeds up. “I’m going to put my tongue on you, suck your clit.” He pauses to groan, then says. “Want to know what I’m going to do with my fingers?”

  “Yes,” I manage to say around a mouthful of fat cock.

  He holds my head, takes charge of the speed and depths, fully controlling my movements. “After I get you hot and wet with my mouth, I’m going to slide them in to you. Two, maybe three. However many it takes to fill you. Then I’m going to finger fuck you so hard and deep, you’re going to lose complete control.” A hot rush spreads through me at his dirty, explicit words, and I love it. I love it so much I sink into a haze of sensations where nothing matters but this man, and the things he makes me feel. “You’ll be so well fucked, you’ll be lucky if you can even walk at work today. But that’s okay. I fucking want every dickless asshole to know you’re off limits. You’re mine and I plan to make sure everyone knows it.” My pulse beats double time as my arousal flashes. He pants harder and rocks his hips, pushing his cock deeper into my throat. I’ve never taken a man so deep, never wanted to. Truthfully up until now, oral sex was a chore, not something I craved. But damn, I like taking Sean into my mouth, love his grunts, his dirty words as I take him to a different place where nothing exists but pleasure.

  “You want that don’t you, baby? You want every guy to know you’re m
ine?” I nod, and make a whimpering sound. “Good.” I steal a glance at him, take in his half-lidded eyes, the way his body is shaking. He’s so close to the point of no return. “When you come for me, and baby, you’re going to come so fucking hard and thorough, I’m going to lick every drop, until I taste nothing but you for the rest of the day. When the taste is gone tomorrow, I’m going to do it all over again.”

  I moan, and my pussy is so wet, my juices are dripping down my thigh. I glance up at him, and when I catch the way he’s looking at me I gasp. No man has ever looked at me in the possessive way Sean is looking at me now. No wonder it’s so easy to put myself in his hands. I tremble with the things I’m not supposed to be feeling for this man.

  Harder and faster I work my mouth over him, a pace that has him tugging at my hair and jerking his hips wildly. Shameless want rockets through me and I shift my body, needing something, anything to take the edge off.

  “Look at you. So needy for my cock.” He brushes my hair back. “Touch yourself for me. Put your hands between your legs and stroke your clit.”

  I do as asked, desperate for release. I stroke my clit and gasp when sensations shoot through me. I’ve never been turned on from sucking cock before, but this is Sean and all he has to do is look at me the right way—or the wrong way—and I’m well on my way to an orgasm. Truthfully, sex with this man is insane.

  “That’s it,” he growls, his voice raspy as I lap at the tang of his excitement pooling on the end of his crown.

  “I’m going to take you so hard, baby. Actually I might bend you over this counter and pound into your sweet pussy.” A grunt and then, “Or maybe I’ll lift this little nightie and expose your sweet ass.” A quiver moves through me and his cock jumps in my mouth, a telltale sign how much he likes the idea of that. “Yeah, maybe I’ll put my cock in that virgin hole of yours.” I expel a low moan built of sexual frustration, and Sean tightens. “I think you like the idea of that.”

  Oh God, he has no idea, but he’s too big, too thick. He’ll ruin me. But there is some part of me that wants him to ruin me, to use and abuse me, own me completely. With those filthy thoughts urging me on, I lick the underside of his cock, then go lower to give his balls attention. As I suck, I stroke my clit harder, and my pussy squeezes, desperate for something to clench on to.