by Cathryn Fox
God, I want that, too.
“No changing her mind, unless you want a hell of a fight on your hands. She’s not above causing a scene either.”
Nervousness steals over me. “I prefer to keep a low profile.”
“Looks like you’re going to have to come then.”
Why is it I feel like he’s talking about something else entirely now. The dirty grin on his face? Possibly. The way he’s rubbing his hard cock against me and putting emphasis on the word “come”? Definitely. He lifts his gaze, does a sweep of the room, then grabs my hand.
“Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I ask on a breathless whisper, not that I care anymore. I’m pretty sure I’d follow him into the depths of hell right now, if it meant he was going to touch me again. Damn my mutinous body. So much for my resolve to keep my distance at work . . . or my distance from him at all.
I’m not done with you.
I don’t even want to think about the mess I’m going to be in when he is done with me. He opens the storage room, drags me in and closes the door, plunging us in darkness.
“Sean,” I whisper, a giggle catching in my throat as something strange comes over me. Honest to God, I feel like I’m thirteen again, playing seven minutes in heaven with some slobbering boy at a friend’s first teenage birthday party. Except Sean is not some slobbering kid who has no idea how to kiss. No, his kisses are like magic. The second our lips touch, poof, my panties always seem to disappear.
“Something funny?” His deep voice sizzles through me.
“No, it’s just that the last time I was in a dark closet it was with Danny Fitzgerald.”
His muscles are tight beneath my hand. “Who the fuck is Danny Fitzgerald?”
“I was at my first boy-girl party and we were playing seven minutes in heaven.”
He relaxes a bit, slips his hand around my body and grips my ass. I yelp. “Seven minutes, huh?”
“What, you’ve never played?”
My hands race over him with aroused eagerness and electricity arcs between us. I wouldn’t be surprised if the room suddenly lights up.
“I’ve played plenty,” he says, “But with you seven minutes will never be enough.”
I open my mouth to say something but he swallows my reply as his lips come down over mine. I moan and sag into him. He kisses me deep, hard, and desire slams in to me. My limbs weaken as his tongue plays with mine, and leaves me hot, needy . . . wordless. Jesus the man kisses like this is no game.
His hands slide under my shirt. “All day these have been on my mind.” He tugs my bra down, and my body ignites when his hot mouth closes over one nipple. I cry out and his other hand goes over my mouth to stifle it. I giggle a little, feeling reckless, and carefree, like I’m twelve again and the boy of my dreams is giving me mouth-to-mouth down by the shore. He tugs my nipples between his teeth and gently bites down. I arch into him and moan.
“That feels so good.”
And I am so not twelve again.
His lips abandon my breasts and he unbuttons my jeans and has them around my ankles before I even realize what’s going on. Damned if he isn’t a man of many talents. I rub up against him, needing the contact. He slides a hand into my panties, and sinks a finger into me. Slick, easy strokes that have me panting in record time.
“Yeah, that’s it. Nice and wet for me just like I knew you’d be.”
Talented fingers light me up, and I clamp my legs together to ride him. His mouth finds mine again and tongues join and tangle as he drives another finger inside. I gulp, control a thing of the past as I take what I need. I tear my mouth away, and throw my head back, nothing mattering but what he’s doing between my legs.
He sinks to his knees, and presses his mouth to my clit. He sucks on it so hard, sensations rip through me and steal the air from my lungs. I want his cock in me so badly I ache deep in my core. I tremble, pant, share in his urgency, and when he applies more pressure, I let go and come around his fingers.
“Fuck yes,” he murmurs and laps at me. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, too.” He stays between my legs and my erotic whimpers fill the room, but I need more.
“Sean, please.” I pull him to me and he stands. Need burns in my throat as he presses against me. “Inside me . . . now . . . hurry . . .”
His needy curses coil around me as he unzips his pants, turns me around and bends me over one of the shelving units. With my jeans to my knees his thick head nudges my opening from behind and I rear back forcing him in.
“Fuck me,” he growls.
“No, fuck me.” Good Lord he’s turning me into a freaking addict with a mouth as dirty as his. He drives his entire length into me.
“Oh, my God,” I cry out, but it only fuels him. He pumps, slams, thrusts like a man hell bent on taking what’s his. He fists my hair and shivers of need race through me. I cry out, a keening sound that I try to muffle with my hands.
I push back, wanting him deeper, harder, unable to get enough. His hand presses on my back to still me, and my blood pulses so hot, I’m afraid I might go up in a burst of flames.
Rippling waves of an orgasm take hold and my breath comes in a jagged burst. I cry out in ecstasy, as wet warmth pools between my legs.
“I feel you,” he murmurs. “So slick and hot on my cock.”
He rams hard and I meet and welcome his racing strokes, as he bangs me against the shelving, his severe, blunt thrusts create heat and friction until I’m lost, delirious with desire. I gasp as another hot, hard orgasm ambushes me, and I bite my lip to stifle a cry, as some working brain cell reminds me where I am.
“Sean,” I murmur and he lifts my shirt and puts his mouth on my back. He presses hot kisses, his hands gripping my hips as he pumps, his heart pounding against my back as he leans over me. I can taste the tension in the air, expanding, filling every corner, until an explosion is inevitable. He straightens and drives hard. I steal a glance at him over my shoulder, take in the savage look on his face, fierce, predatory, possessive, a desperate sort of need in his eyes as they connect with mine. My heart hammers and I swallow against the thickness in my throat.
“Summer,” he whispers, or at least I think that’s what he called me, but I’m so far gone, lost in him, my heart pounding so hard I my ears, I can’t hear right. He throws his head back, his hands biting into my hips, bruising delicate flesh, and let’s himself go, pumping his seed high inside me. I squeeze around him, keeping his cum in me, not wanting to lose a single drop.
Gasping hard, we both stay still, motionless for a long time, then he runs his hand along my back, grips my shoulder and lifts me until my back is against his powerful chest.
His mouth goes to my ear. “You’re incredible.”
“That was . . .” I can quite put into words what that was.
“Fun?”
My heart sinks a little. Yes, it was fun, but it felt like so much more. It felt like his kisses were real, like there was something more going on between us. Like we crossed an imaginary line there is no coming back from.
Someone walks by the door, we see a shadow under the bottom crack and Sean shifts his body to block mine in case it opens. When the footsteps become distant, he tugs my panties and jeans back up, and fixes my bra and shirt.
His lips find mine, a soft kiss, so full of tenderness and emotions I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around the two of us, and this sex only relationship. His zipper cuts through the quiet as he fixes himself.
“All set,” he whispers, his hand going around my neck to cup it. His thumb brushes lightly, and my heart squeezes.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
Sean cracks the door and when he finds the coast clear, he ushers me out. I fix my hair as I walk down the hall and try to pull of casual, even though I have Sean’s scent all over me and vice versa. One look at us, and it’s easy to tell what we were doing in that back room. Fortunately the restaurant is empty when we emerge and my boss Be
ck had left with the other two Owens brothers earlier.
We reach the bar and he casts me a grin and says, “See you at home tonight.”
My heart flips and I swallow down the lump punching into my throat. I shouldn’t like the sound of that so much, the idea that going home to him every night is something I could so easily get used to. Falling in bed together every night would be the nicest thing, but more importantly waking up with him every morning would be even better. But we’re just playing house, exploring a brief affair while I’m here, and I’d be wise to remember that.
“See you later,” I say and inject a lightness into my voice.
He stops, cups my elbow, and draws me close. Green eyes darken as they move over my face, and my lids flutter. “Everything okay?”
Why is it I can never get anything by this man? “Perfect. I just need to get back to work,” I say.
He peruses the empty pub, a dubious look on his face, but instead of calling me on it, he says, “Okay.” His gaze returns to mine. “How about I grab us a pizza for dinner?”
“Pizza is perfect.” I brace myself against the bar, needing it for support as I watch him saunter out. When the door bangs shut behind him I draw a quick breath and remind myself what’s real and what isn’t. Sex is for fun, nothing else. With that last thought in mind, I go over my receipts again.
The rest of my shift flies by in a blur and I clock out at four. I untie my apron, and shove it into my purse. Instead of going to my truck, I hurry down the sidewalk still filled with kids playing, and enter the post office. I stand in line, two people ahead of me as the man behind the counter searches for a parcel. He’s as old as Benny, and should have retired years ago. Must be the fresh county air that keeps these folks going.
Close to fifteen minutes later, I’m at the counter, but when the bell over the door jingles and a shiver moves down my spine I don’t need to turn to know Sean has entered. His boots scrape and the next thing I know his mouth is near my ear.
“Come here often?”
I turn and try to make light of the situation. “Real original.” He flashes that ridiculously sexy dimple. “You could have come up with something better like, ‘Excuse me, were you checking out my package?’”
With that Sean laughs, and the sound goes right through me. The elderly gentleman behind the counter, however, finds nothing funny about the situation.
“Can I help you?” he says again, and I hesitate. Shoot, I want to ask about the key but don’t want to raise Sean’s suspicions. He already knows I’m a keeping a secret, or two, and that I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.
“I . . . uh . . . found this key, and was just wondering if belonged to a post office box.”
The elderly gentleman lifts his head and looks through the lower part of his glasses. “Nope, not one of ours. You might want to try the bus station.”
“Thanks,” I say and shove it into my pocket. I plaster a smile on my face and turn, but Sean isn’t smiling when I try to walk past him. He cups my elbow and pulls me against his hard body. There are other customers in the post office, and they’re darting glances our way but Sean doesn’t seem to worry about the attention we’re drawing.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing.” I lean forward, let my hair mask my features. “I just found this at the house, thought someone might have lost it, or it belonged to the Wheeler family.”
He stares at me for a long moment, long enough to make me uncomfortable, then let’s me go. “I have a few more stops to make, then I’ll meet you at home.”
There he goes using that “home” word again.
I nod and leave the post office. Out on the busy sidewalk, I look up and down the street, unable to decide if I’m happy or not that I hadn’t yet discovered the secrets this key will unlock. Wouldn’t it be easier to just pretend it didn’t exist, to live in ignorant bliss as I hide out here in Blue Bay for the rest of my life? But if Jack had something to do with Dad’s death I plan to get to the bottom of it.
The warm sun beats down on me and I jump into my truck, make the trek home. I enter the cottage and breathe in. Unlike when I first arrived, everything smells clean and pure, like sunshine after a hard rain. I hear children laughing in the ocean just beyond my back door, and for the first time since I’ve been back, a sense of home washes over me. I’d forgotten how much I love it here. I breathe deep, let it out slowly and exhale all my fears. I’m not sure what’s come over me, maybe it was the “kissing closet,” the lightness Sean makes me feel. I briefly close my eyes and open them again, deciding to focus on the good memories from my past, the love I feel in every corner of the cottage. It almost feels like my parents have their arms around me, hugging me from above—protecting me from harm. Then again, maybe that’s why the lockbox had a key to our cottage, to a place where I’d find Sean. He’s only boy who’s ever displayed protectiveness. Could my father have wanted this? Wanted me to find him? Or am I just really stretching things for my own benefit?
I step into the living room and as I walk to the back window to glance out over the ocean, I see Sean has already started tearing up the floors and there is a big hole in the wall where the water had been dripping.
The ocean beckons me and since Sean said he had to make another stop, I decide to go for a swim. I hurry to my room, pull on the one-piece bathing suit I’d picked up the other day and rush to the water. I swim out, but not too far. I don’t dare. Sean isn’t around to give me mouth-to-mouth should I need it.
I enjoy the cool water rushing around me, and as the dinner hour approaches, many of the families pack up their supplies and head home. Only a few sun worshippers remain, catching the last of the day’s rays before the sun sets on the horizon. From the water I can see the back of the house, and I glance up to catch Sean coming my way. He has something in his arms, something big, but from where I am I can’t tell what it is, although I do know it’s not a pizza.
I push through the water and step onto the sand. I grab my towel, blot my face and wrap it around me. The second I see what Sean has in his arms, my heart beats wildly, and my lungs clench so tight, it hurts to breathe. He did this for me?
“Sean? What . . .”
He grins. “For you.”
I look into his face, search his eyes and beneath the tough and rough surface, see the amazing, sweet man he really is. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope.
I step up to him, and when I get close, I get a great big wet tongue across my face. Sean and I both laugh and he sets the playful retriever on the sand. The pup takes off, and darts into the water.
It barks and nips at the waves, and we both laugh, the last of the heaviness inside me taking flight. I take in the brightness in Sean’s eyes and my heart soars. With so much weight around us lately, we needed this laugh.
“Why are you giving me a golden retriever pup?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Well,” he says. “Since you’re spooked at the cottage, I thought you might like to have a dog for company, or for when you’re scared. If she’s anything like Bear, she can chase off a raccoon, or . . . any other intruders.”
“Bear?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“Tyler’s old dog,” he says. “Summer used to love him.”
I nod as my heart wobbles at his thoughtfulness. First a surveillance system and now this. I step up to him, press my cold wet body to his warmth. “I thought you were my guard dog.”
The playfulness leaves his face. “I can’t be there twenty-four seven. I have other jobs to check on, and well . . .” He brushes his thumb along my cheek and gestures toward the dog. “She’s going to get big really fast.”
My smile drops. “Sean,” I begin. “I can’t have dog. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, and I only have a small condo back in SoCal. A retriever needs space to run and play.”
“It’s fine.” He rolls one shoulder. “I’ll take her when you’re gone.”
I eye him.
“You’re not planning to hit the motocross circuit again?”
“No, I gave that up.” He clenches down on his jaw, those demons back in his eyes. “I have a responsibility here now.” He looks past my shoulders. “Only one question remains.”
“What’s that?”
“What are you going to call her?”
I turn to see the pup playing and laugh. “Scout.”
His brow pulls together. “Scout?”
“Yeah, from To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“Really. Why?”
I roll one shoulder. “Because she’s going to be tough and see the good in people.”
His head dips and the corner of his mouth turns up. “Like you.”
I lift my chin. “You think I’m tough and see the good in people?”
His knuckles brush mine and intense eyes study me darkly. “I think you’re a lot of things.”
“I think you’re a lot of things, too, Sean.”
“Don’t say “sweet,” otherwise I’ll put you over my knee and slap that ass of yours.”
“Okay, then. I think you’re solid, dependable, a really great guy.”
His face darkens, those demons he’s running from clawing him out from the inside. My stomach tightens. I hate that look on him, would do just about anything to chase it away. Then again, I probably have that same look on my face. Aren’t we the pair? Two messed up people who can’t outrun the things hunting them.
“We should get back.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Pizza is getting cold.”
Needing to lighten things, I turn and say, “Here Scout.” The puppy ignores me of course, so I run to the water and get her. Silence hangs heavy as we trek back to the cottage.
We step inside and the delicious scent of pepperoni and cheese hits me. My stomach grumbles. “I’m hungrier than I realized.”
“Me, too, really worked up an appetite at work today.”
I grin as my mind takes me back to the closet. “Me, too.”
Sean grabs some plates as I play with Scout, but she’s soon tuckered out from the excitement of the day and curls up in the bed Sean bought.