Demolished

by Cathryn Fox

  He thrusts into my mouth, and I lose my footing. He tightens his hand on my head, anchoring me so I don’t fall. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, and my heart squeezes. We both might be lost in a haze of lust, but he’s always looking out for my well-being. A bolt of need zing through me, my body so close to shattering as his wet cock slides between my lips. My jaw aches from his girth, but I don’t care. I want him in my mouth. I want him to shoot his cum down my throat. I want so much. Too much.

  “Feel me? Feel me thicken,” he asks, and holds my head still. I press my tongue to his veins, and he grunts. “I’m there. Fuck, baby, I’m going to come,” he says, and powers forward until he hits the back of my throat. “I’m going to fill your mouth.” His cock pulses, and a second later he’s pumping into me. His taste swirls around me, and I swallow him. My throat works as I gulp, unable to take it all, and a little bit dribbles down my chin. Sean’s groan grows louder when he sees it.

  “You are so sexy,” he whispers, his words are like a caress deep inside me. The world slows as my body clenches hard, the powerful vibrations pulling a gasp from my lungs. I struggle to breathe as my body throbs and tightens, heat jolting through me as I climax.

  Sean touches my chin, lifts my face, and I’m so lost in pleasure I can’t focus on him. I run my finger over my slick wetness, and my body jerks, as I come and come and come. He pulls his cock from my mouth, and I’m still forming an “O” as he bend to capture me in his arms, his harsh breaths falling over me. I’m shaking and barely able to fill my lungs as he lifts me, his cock pushing against my throbbing sex.

  He presses his mouth to mine, and kisses me deeply as one hand trails lower, dips between my sopping wet thighs. “Jesus,” he hisses, and plunges inside. “You’re still coming.” He works me hard, a rough massage brutal in its precision. His fingers showing no mercy as he grinds his palm on my clit. I keep exploding until I splinter into a million tiny pieces. Time seems to speed up, but then comes to a standstill as my body rocks and vibrates then comes back down to earth. Intense green eyes that are unrecognizable gaze at me with dark desire. Raw, primal—volatile—an erupting volcano, a brushfire tearing through the hillsides. Unstoppable. It shakes through me and I fight to catch my breath.

  “I need to taste you,” he says, and I don’t even recognize his voice. “Then I’m going to bend you over this counter,” he explains, the calmness in his tone belying the storm in his eyes. I grip his shoulders to hang on, unable to do anything else but bend to his will. He’s about to slide down my body when someone knocks on the door.

  “Fuck,” Sean murmurs, but the sound seems to snap him back to this reality.

  I freeze on boneless legs, and struggle to get my brain working. Who could be at my door? I look at Sean and there’s no hiding the panic in my eyes.

  His jaw clenches. “It’s my brother,” he says quickly. He puts his hands on my shoulders and absorbs my tremor. His eyes have sobered, but I can still see the lust, the embers needing only a spark to fire them. “It’s okay.” One big strong hand closes over my cheek and he dips his head. Concern reflects in his eyes. “I asked him to come. He’s here to install a security system. Nothing to be worried about.”

  “I . . . I can’t afford that, Sean.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Sean . . .” I begin but then shut my mouth. I might as well be arguing with a goldfish. When Sean sets his mind to something there is no stopping him. He was like that as a kid, and apparently that hasn’t changed over the years.

  “I’m not done with you.” He grips my chin, and looks at my lips. I wipe my hand over my wet mouth, and work to regulate my breathing. “What time is your break today?”

  “I have the lunch crowd at noon, but it should die off around two. I’ll probably take my break after that.”

  “We’re going to finish what we started.”

  He’s going to come to my work? “Sean, I can’t—”

  “Oh, yeah, you can. And we will.”

  He zips up his pants, and gives me a slap on the ass. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll let Jamie in.”

  I should run to my room to put more clothes on, but I sit back down, not sure my legs will actually work. I need a minute, or two, or a million to get myself together and process. My glance drops to Sean’s ass as he saunters to the door like we hadn’t just been having sex. Unlike him, I’m not as quick to recover. I try to fix my hair, to present normal, but I have sex written all over me and there is no hiding that. He lets Jamie in—another one of the Owens brothers who thinks he knows me. He’s right. He does. He was always tight on Sean’s heels when they were young. On that note, I stand. I’d better get a move on it before he starts asking questions again. I toss the rest of the bacon into my mouth, say a quick hello to Jamie, and hurry to the shower.

  I wash quickly, my body still humming from my delicious morning wake-up sex—it was way better than the bacon and the Americano. Yes I want more, too, but no way am I going to have sex with Sean at Winchesters. I need this job. The money in the lockbox is only going to go so far and I don’t dare go to the bank. Jack could be tracking my transactions.

  I dress in my jeans, pull on my black work shirt with “Winchesters” emblazoned across the back, and grab my apron. I step into the room to find Sean still talking to Jamie, and pointing out areas where he’d like motion detectors installed. I stare for a moment, my heart squeezing at their brotherly camaraderie. The Owens brothers might not have seen each other for years, but they’re tight, a brotherhood that nothing can come between. I breathe past the longing. I’d always wanted siblings, wanted to grow up in a big family like Sean’s, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. That doesn’t mean I don’t want it now, though. I used to have girlish dreams of walking down the aisle, my dad giving me away. I’d wanted a big wedding, just like I wanted a big family. Now, well I’m not so sure I’ll ever have that. I put my hand in my pocket, feel for the key that opens God knows what, and strive to fight down the tension inside me.

  Sean’s gaze slowly turns to me, burns through my body like a lit match when our eyes meet. He steps up to me, and despite our audience of one, drops a slow, lingering kiss full of dirty promises onto my mouth. I stand there, lips parted gazing at him like he’s a god long after he breaks the kiss. He puts his lips to my ear. “See you soon.”

  “Okay,” I say breathlessly. I hurry to my truck, climb in, and make my way to work. As I drive the short distance to town, I see kids are on their bicycles riding circles around each other, some are at the outside eating ice cream, and a group of women are all standing around on the sidewalk chatting while their kids skip rope and play. My heart warms at the sight. I really do love this small town.

  I pass by the post office again. After work I’ll stop in, see if the key opens something. Then again, maybe it’s a key to a safe-deposit box at the bank. Or it could open something at the bus station. Perhaps it could be to a locker there, or in the town’s fitness center. I’d been gathering information of all the possible places the key might work, and now that I’ve settled in, I can start checking them out.

  I tap the brakes as I pull into the lot at Winchesters and steal a quick glance around before slipping from the cab. My feet hit the ground with a slap. God, I’ll never get used to driving this beast of a vehicle. I hurry inside and run in to Stacey in the back room. The other night when Tyler and Jamie were fighting on the floor, she’d warned me about the Owens brothers, told me not to get involved. From the way Sean was watching us, I get the feeling he knew exactly what she was saying to me. According to her they are all players. Not one single Owens boy is out for anything other than a good time. Of course, I found out later she’d been involved with Jacob, one of the twins, and he skipped town the night they were to go to the prom. But it did make me wonder about the girls who were all over the guys the other night. The Owens brothers attract girls like dimwitted moths to a lightbulb.

  Do any one of them have what it takes to be faithful, a o
ne-woman kind of man?

  I quickly shut down my thoughts and tie my apron around my waist. I’m having sex with Sean, incredible, mind-blowing sex for sure, but I’m not planning to stay here. I have a career to get back to, a practice I built from the ground up, and who knows what his plans are after he gets his father’s business up and running. There’s no saying he doesn’t hit the circuit again and hand the reins to any one of the other guys.

  I hurry into the pub, and come across a group of grandmothers, all wearing red hats. I pull my notepad from my pocket, ready to forget about Sean for a while, but when one of the women smiles at me, and I see the distinct color of her eyes and my heart misses a beat.

  Grandma Nellie.

  “What can I get for you ladies?” I ask, and try not to react. I remember her from years ago. She was always so sweet and kind to me. She and my mom would talk in the center of town, and while Mom liked her it still didn’t change the fact that she wanted me nowhere near her grandsons.

  Nellie zeroes in on my nametag. “Well I’m thinking you’re the girl who has my grandson all tied up in knots.”

  I have Sean all tied up in knots?

  My pulse jumps in my throat. That can’t be right.

  “I’m afraid that’s not on the menu,” I tease hoping to change the subject.

  She laughs and winks at me. “Beautiful and smart.” She looks around the table. “My boys have good taste,” she says and they all nod in agreement. Astute eyes zero back in on me, go serious. “Did he mention Sunday dinner?”

  “No . . . I . . . uh . . .”

  “That’s just like Sean.” She looks heavenward and rolls her eyes. “Can’t keep a single thought around a pretty girl. Anyway, dinner is this Sunday. Six sharp.”

  “I don’t—”

  She waves a dismissive hand. “That’s right, you don’t need to bring anything. Just show up.” Good God, she’s as pushy as Sean. Now I know where he gets it. But no way am I going there for Sunday dinner. It’s not like Sean and I are dating.

  “I don’t think—”

  “How is the Cobb salad?” one of the other women asks.

  I turn to her. “Wait, uh . . .”

  “That looks good, Mary,” one of the other ladies says as she removes her big hat and sets it down beside her. They all close their menus.

  “Cobb salads, all around,” someone else pipes in.

  I blink, and try to get back on track. “I . . . uh . . .”

  “See you Sunday, dear,” Grandma Nellie says and they all shoo me away. I walk toward the kitchen to put the order in, my brain racing a million miles an hour.

  What the hell just happened?

  Chapter Ten: Summer

  I don’t need to turn to know Sean has entered the restaurant and has pinned with me those turbulent green eyes of his. I feel him long before I see him. Every nerve in my body jumps, comes alive under his dark stare.

  As need sings through my veins, I strive to make my legs work and carry the bowls of pasta to my last table. I try to ignore all six feet of him standing there, oozing testosterone that is messing with the greedy spot between my legs, but that would be like standing in the middle of a highway and pretending an eighteen wheeler wasn’t about to mow me down. I turn, unable to help myself, and catch him staring.

  My insides tighten. What is it about a guy in jeans and work boots that gets to me? Correction. What is it about Sean in jeans and work boots that gets to me? His brothers are dressed the same, but I only see Sean.

  “I’m not done with you.”

  As his parting words dance around inside my brain, my entire body quakes, but no way, no how can we finish what we started here at the bar. His brothers stop to talk to Beck, and when Sean lowers that big hard body into one of the wooden chairs in the corner, I figure it’s as good a time as any to talk to him about his grandmother’s visit. I’m sure he’ll make this right so I don’t have to go. Deep down I don’t want to go. Not one little bit.

  Okay, maybe a tiny little bit—or a lot.

  But I can’t go there with Sean. I can’t get involved with him like that. He’s not asking for more and I have trouble nipping at my heels.

  As I approach his table, I see a Starbucks cup in his hands. My steps slow. Seriously, he went to Starbucks? I sure could use an Americano right about now, but surely to God, he didn’t make a run to Hope Falls to get me another one. That would be . . . too sweet.

  “Hey,” I say as I approach.

  “Hey yourself.” He holds the coffee out to me, and my heart squeezes. “You rushed out this morning before your finished your coffee, so I thought you could use another one. This one should still be warm.”

  I swallow against the tightness in my throat as my pulse beats double time against my neck. I could get used to this, used to Sean. But we’re simply playing house, and I can’t forget that. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Didn’t have to. Wanted to.” He gives me that familiar shrug again. “Besides I was in Hope Falls.”

  “Bacon?” I tease in an effort to uncoil the knot in my gut.

  He laughs. “For work actually. Needed some supplies.” He looks at his brothers and scowls. “My brother Tyler is working on a project, adding a new addition to one of the oceanfront homes, not too far from yours actually.”

  “And that’s a problem why?”

  “What? I never said that was a problem”

  “You’re scowling. You scowl when something is pissing you off.” His scowl deepens and I grin. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “I do not scowl.”

  “Yeah, you do, and you glare, too.” I laugh as he continues to glare at me, a scowl marring his handsome features. I straighten. “Wait. Am I pissing you off now?”

  “Yeah, you’re pissing me off. I don’t scowl or glare.”

  “Need a mirror?” He growls as I pull the tab back on the coffee cup lid and take a sip. “Mmmm,” I moan. Lust replaces his glare and his eyes drop to my mouth. “Sorry,” I say quickly and make a mental note to quit moaning every time I drink a coffee. At least when we’re in public and we can’t do something about it. But the look in his eyes warns he doesn’t care if we have an audience.

  On that note, I put on my best professional face and say, “What can I get you?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” he grumbles.

  Before I can answer, his brothers and Beck all grab a seat at the table. I take their orders, the whole time Sean’s eyes ablaze with lust, and go to the back to punch them in. I hurry through my shift, and about a half hour later I turn back to see Sean by himself.

  The guys are all gone, and I catch him unguarded as he stares at his glass of soda, like it holds all the answers to the universe. I take in the quiet reflective side of him. What is going through that mind of his? The last of my customers slide from their booth, and the only ones left in the pub is the kitchen staff, a couple of the other waitresses, and Sean. He’s nursing his soda, looking like he’s a million miles away, fighting demons that no one can see but him.

  The door kicks shut as the last of the diners leave, and it jolts Sean back to the present. His gaze scans the pub, locks on mine, and that dark, contemplative looks softens when our gazes collide. A dangerous grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, and the gleam in his eyes worries me. I practically vibrate beneath his stare. Oh, God, I am in so much trouble.

  He pushes from the chair and I turn my back to him, walk up to the bar, and go over my receipts. His boots pound on the floor, keeping rhythm with my crashing heart as he cages me, and his scent curls around me like a powerful aphrodisiac.

  “Busy,” he asks, his nearness making me breathless.

  “Very.”

  His hand touches the back of my neck, trails lower, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “No time for a break.”

  “Actually there is something I want to talk to you about.”

  He stands solidly behind me. “What I want to do to you invol
ves my mouth, too,” he says his voice teasing, playful and I admit I love this side of him. In fact I love all sides of him. I take a breath to battle my desires, when all I want to do is surrender myself to him. But his grandmother was here, and we can’t let her go around thinking we’re a couple. We’re not.

  “Your grandmother,” I begin.

  He stiffens. “What about her?”

  “She was here today.”

  “And?”

  I spin to see him and I know it’s cliché but good God, he is so beautiful he takes my breath way. “She invited me to Sunday dinner.”

  He shakes his head. “Fucking Tyler.”

  “Tyler?”

  “Yeah, he told Gram I had a thing for you.”

  “A thing?” I jump to the worst conclusion, as always. “He didn’t tell her we were . . .”

  “No he didn’t tell her we were fucking.” His thumb goes to my mouth and he brushes it over my bottom lip, rough, greedy. Jesus, he’s going to devour me. “I told her we were just friends, but Gram would like nothing better than to see me settled down.” A noise crawls out of his throat, a scoff of sorts. I can only imagine it means it will be cold day in hell before he settles down. Guess Stacey was right. The Owens boys aren’t marriage material. Not that I’m looking for anything that resembles a white wedding from Sean.

  “Can you get me out of it?” I ask. “We’re not dating and I don’t want to give your grandmother the wrong idea.”

  His brow pulls together, a flash of disappointment on his face, then he wipes it away as fast as it appeared. What the hell? Does he want me to go? Honest to God, he’s strong and steady, tough and rough, but a contradiction to me in so many ways.

  “Not going to happen.” He clicks his tongue. “Gram gets what Gram wants.”

  I poke him in the chest. “Like someone else I know,” I say as he drags his finger down my throat, like he’s anxious to explore my body again.