Kissing Bree

by JoMarie DeGioia

  “So don’t go.”

  She gaped at him. “There is no way I can avoid this. I moved to Cypress to get out of that cage, but I have to check in periodically with my parole officer.”

  He laughed softly. “You paint quite a picture. It’s no big surprise you’re so good at sales.”

  That got him the smile he was after. “So will you come? I can introduce you as anything you like?”

  “Anything?”

  “Within reason.”

  “I’ll pick date. Seems innocuous.”

  “Good.” Her hand covered his. “Thank you.”

  “We can kill two birds with one stone, I’m thinking.”

  She tilted her head. “What birds would those be?”

  “I’ll be closing on my house just a couple of days before. Why don’t we turn the painful party into our own celebration?”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Haven’t you heard what they say about me? I’m always serious.”

  “That’s not exactly true.”

  His body tightened. “No. Not exactly. And not always.”

  She glanced to her right and he followed her line of vision. Noah’s little family was gone, but Tammy Chapman was on her way over.

  “Well, hello,” Tammy said.

  The leggy brunette wore a grin as she shifted the chubby baby in her arms. “Look, Raffaella. It’s our friends Bree and Derek.”

  The baby blinked at Derek and he was caught by its serious expression. “Raffaella,” he said in greeting.

  Ben joined them, shaking droplets of water off his head. “Hey, guys. I pulled the car up front.”

  “Is it raining?” Bree asked.

  “Cats and dogs,” Ben said.

  Tammy pulled a soft-looking blanket seemingly out of nowhere and covered the baby’s dark curls. “Come on, sweetheart. Daddy brought the chariot around.” She looked meaningfully at Bree, but Bree wasn’t giving anything away. “Good night, friends.”

  “Good night,” Bree said.

  Derek nodded to Ben and Tammy and they finally left the table. He looked back at Bree. “Damn, you’re good.”

  “Years of practice.”

  She sounded a little sad, and he found himself wanting to bring out another smile. A smile and maybe something more. A sigh. A scream.

  “How do you want to play this now?” he asked.

  She drew her cell phone out of her bag and made a show of checking her messages. Her body language said she wasn’t really paying him much attention, but that was only if someone didn’t know her body like he did. Like he wanted to know even more.

  “The Sales Center is closed tomorrow,” she said as if to herself.

  “It is.”

  She put her phone on the table with a loud sigh. “I’d love to get away for the weekend.”

  He caught on to what she was saying, or he certainly hoped so. “How about at a charming inn set near the lakeshore?”

  She breathed in, and her entire body seemed to shiver slightly. “Sounds just perfect.”

  He took out his phone, to further cement the image that they weren’t on a date. Looking down, he texted her his room number. She lifted her phone when it dinged, smiling down at the screen.

  She eyed him with a smile. “Seems I have plans now.”

  “Good.” He took the check from their server when it came, waving her hand away. “You get the next one. You never know when we’ll run into each other again.”

  Standing, she pulled a jacket out of her bag. It was a sporty little thing, and when she settled the hood on her head she looked adorable and hot. “See you later, Derek.”

  ***

  Bree kept the smile from her face as she exited the tavern. Joy gave her a smug expression.

  “Good night, Joy.”

  She grinned. “I bet it will be.”

  She walked to her car, the rain drops tapping on her hood as she made her way. She willed her heartrate to slow. She was going to Derek’s room at the inn tonight. For the whole night, if she could admit that to herself. A clandestine assignation, or something out of a PBS drama like that.

  All of this cloak-and-dagger stuff really wasn’t her style, and it didn’t seem to be Derek’s either. Still, he’d played along with her charade there at the tavern. Jessie had looked like she wasn’t fooled. Tammy either, for that matter. Their respective guys had been clueless, but weren’t guys always the last to know?

  Now, Joy. That girl knew what was up. Bree didn’t worry that she would say anything, though. She wasn’t a little Lettie, after all. Her mother, on the other hand? Mrs. Rollins might look like a mother hen but she was as sharp-eyed as the Sandhill cranes that walked all over Cypress. Bree worried about her cover story when she would inevitably run into the innkeeper, but then shrugged it off. She wasn’t a teen sneaking out for kicks anymore. Not that she’d managed to pull that little trick very often back in the day.

  Her car door creaked as she opened it, reminding her that she should get Claire Chapman’s dad to take another look at it. The guy was a wizard with old cars, and her grandmother’s baby needed special care. Pushing her hood from her head, she started the engine and headed home. She’d about had it with her work outfit today, and if she was going to try something new she was going to wear something new. Or at least, almost new. Different, anyway.

  It was still raining pretty hard as she changed into jeans and a stretchy pink knit top. The moisture had put a wave in her hair she wasn’t too fond of, but she just brushed it out and let it fall. Going through her drawers, she chose what to bring for tonight.

  She’d seen his face when he spotted her lacy underwear, so she picked out a couple of sets to put in her favorite tote bag. The little whales swimming all over it eyed her with grins. She added a ribbed long-sleeve T, speckled pajama pants and a pair of fluffy socks too, although she wasn’t sure if Derek was a PJs kind of guy. A flush washed over her as she recalled just how fine he’d looked in just those boxer briefs. Throwing in a zippered bag with her toothbrush and toiletries, she was ready to go. Shouldering the bag, she hurried downstairs.

  Remembering the white wine chilling in the fridge, she slipped that into her tote bag too. Growing up, her mother had instilled upon her the importance of always being prepared. She certainly hadn’t meant preparing for an extended booty-call, but this would simply be yet another thing Margaret James wouldn’t know about.

  Her car’s tires hissed on the rain-slick road as she made her way to the inn. There was ample parking, which she considered a good sign. That would mean most of the guests were still out and about. Her luck held as she passed through the lobby and up the grand staircase to the guest rooms. Breathing a sigh of relief, she found Derek’s room and knocked on the door. He opened it, and suddenly she could hardly breathe at all.

  He’d changed too, and now wore jeans that hung just right off of his narrow hips. A dark green Henley, she just loved a Henley, stretched across his broad shoulders and outlined every taut muscle in his chest. He was barefoot, which she found sexy for some reason.

  His dark eyes were intense, as they usually were. His sculpted lips were set but his posture was rigid. A smile pulled at his lips and he seemed to relax a little.

  “Bree.”

  Oh, the way he said her name. Straightening her shoulders, she smiled. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  He stepped back and she was in the clear. She must have shown something on her face, because he chuckled. “What?”

  “You look like you’re on the run,” he said.

  She laughed lightly. “I am. From the prying eyes of Mrs. Rollins.”

  “She’d a nosy lady, but she seems to keep out of the guests’ business.”

  Bree tossed her bag on the nearest chair. “I really don’t care about myself. I just didn’t want to drag you into some sort of drama.”

  “No worries. I’m a big boy.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  He kissed her, a soft kiss that seemed to wrap
itself around her. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

  She looked around his guest room. Ambient lighting, high-end furnishings, muted colors. If she didn’t know better she might think she was standing in a five-star luxury hotel room. “Wow, this is really nice.”

  “It is.” He took off her rain jacket and set it on the chair beside her bag. “You’ve never stayed here?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been to events here, but they were held downstairs or out on the terrace.”

  “The downstairs is nice but it’s a little too old-fashioned for my tastes.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Rollins likes that Old Florida Victorian vibe. Pastels, rattan, potted plants.”

  He nodded. “Would you like a drink?”

  Smiling, she withdrew the wine bottle from her bag. “Sure.”

  He returned the expression and took the bottle. Pouring the wine into two crystal glasses from the sideboard, he handed her one and clinked it with his. “To getting away for the weekend.”

  She sipped the cool crisp wine and felt the worries of the week melt away. The call from her mother. It was like there was nothing but tonight, and she was on board with that.

  “Thanks again for agreeing to come to my father’s party.”

  “I’ve been to enough of those society things to know what to expect.” He took her glass and set it back down with his. “I don’t want to talk about family stuff, Bree. Do you?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Nope.”

  He drew her closer. “Good. Because I’ve been wondering about something ever since you took off that cute little jacket.

  Her pulse tripped again and she put on an expression of innocence. “What’s that?”

  He stroked a finger over her neck and slipped it just under the collar of her top. “What color underwear are you wearing tonight?”

  “Oh?” Pleasing tingles spread over her from his fingertip. “You didn’t do your due diligence?”

  He stroked ever so gently beneath her bra strap. “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ll make it easy on you.” Pulling away from his touch, she reached down and pulled her shirt up and over her head. “Violet.”

  His eyes ran over her breasts and her nipples pulled tight. “Not easy at all, Bree.”

  Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. No. He was clearly hard and it was because of her. Once again, that strength she’d felt with him the other night came over her.

  “Lose the shirt, counselor.”

  He did as she ordered and she stared at him. “You’re beautiful, Derek. Do you know that?”

  “Beautiful? If you say so.”

  She stepped closer to him. “Trust me on this.”

  He stilled for a beat, and then his mouth was on hers again. This wasn’t soft and slow, like his earlier kiss. No. It was hot and hungry and just what she needed.

  The smooth cotton coverlet was cool beneath her skin as he stripped off the rest of her clothes. His body was hot in contrast, and her breasts ached from his hair-roughened skin against her.

  “God, I have to get inside you.” His mouth was everywhere. On her breasts, her belly, her center. “Tell me I can.”

  “Yes.” She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging as she drew him back up to her. “Yes, Derek.”

  He sucked in a breath as she stroked him. He was naked now too, although she didn’t get to see that particular show. No, she’d been lost in his touch, his kisses, as he’d apparently stripped. She thought she might have to get him to do that again sometime, but then her mind went blank to everything but what he was doing to her now.

  He licked her, slowly and deliberately, and then came up on his knees. They were in the center of his king-size bed, and she was splayed beneath him. As he reached beneath the plump pillows beside her and withdrew a foil packet, her body flushed hotter still. It had been so long since she’d slept with a guy. There hadn’t been anyone since she’d moved to Cypress. This guy, though? Oh, he was so worth breaking her losing streak.

  “That’s it, baby.” He shifted again, bringing that ridged belly up against her. He kissed her, rubbing his cock over her until she thought she’d die from the tension.

  “Derek, please.”

  He lost some of that control that always seemed to cling to him. His fingers shook a little as he tore open the condom wrapper and took care of it. And then he moved right to where she needed him most. He was huge. Hard and so perfect she cried out.

  He stilled. “Bree, are you okay?”

  “Take me, Derek.” She moved, loving how he filled her. “Oh, please.”

  He slid further inside, stretching her in the best way as he began to move. They found their rhythm, and she held on to his braced arms as he rode her. Their breathing was labored and sweat broke out on her brow as she gave into the most amazing time she’d ever had with a guy.

  “Sweet, Bree.” He bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re so sweet.”

  She broke in the next second, her orgasm pulling every muscle taut as she cried out again. He continued to move, driving her closer to another release as he continued to murmur incoherent words of obvious pleasure. With a cry of his own, he came.

  After, he held her close as their bodies seemed to fit perfectly against each other’s.

  “Christ,” he said again. “That was fucking amazing.”

  She managed a small laugh at the profanity. “Yeah, it was.”

  He got up and she finally got that show she’d craved earlier. He returned from the bathroom and retrieved their glasses of wine.

  Taking a cleansing breath, she sat up and took the glass from him. “Still cold.”

  “Mostly.”

  She looked at this guy, who appeared pretty darn proud of himself right now, and felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in years.

  She might not know what this was between her and Derek but she loved that she could be herself with him. It was a first for her, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

  Chapter 12

  “Isn’t this so much better than the fishbowl?”

  Bree made a sound of agreement and cuddled closer against Derek’s chest. Fragrant steam rose from the bubbly water in the tub, making his muscles relax more than they had in recent memory. Her round little ass was up against his groin, but his dick was only mildly interested at the moment. They’d had two bouts already, and he and his dick were content for now.

  He brought his lips to her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her dewy skin. They were putting the big bathtub in his guest room to good use tonight. After having the single best fuck of his life in his bed, he hadn’t though they could improve on it. He was quickly proven wrong when they’d splashed and sloshed in the tub a while later. Now they were still wrapped in each other and he wasn’t seized with the usual urge to get her the hell out of his room. Not like his apartment in Boston, anyway. He couldn’t get a woman out of there fast enough.

  “So what are the plans for this weekend?” she asked, her voice thick and drowsy.

  “Whatever you want.” He stroked his hands over her arms, finding her skin slick from the soapy water. “We can just stay here.”

  She looked at him over one creamy shoulder. “Keep me your dirty little secret?”

  He caught her smile. “My clean little secret, but sure. If you want me to.”

  She sighed and faced forward again. “I don’t know what I want, but this has been amazing so far.”

  “I have no idea what time it is, but I’d guess we haven’t even been here for two hours.”

  She took his hand in hers, treading their fingers together. “This is new for me, you know. Letting go with a guy.”

  His mind went back to their time in his bed. Hell, their time right here in the tub. “Glad to be your first in that respect. Your letting go is pretty amazing.”

  She wriggled closer and his body woke up a little more. Tracing a finger over his palm, she touched on his scars. “I noticed these before, Derek.”

  “What?
” Like he didn’t know.

  “These scars. What are they from?”

  He resisted the urge to pull his hand away from her. Instead, he opened his palm to her touch. “They’re rope burns.”

  She turned slightly toward him, causing water to slosh around them. “Rope burns? How would a lawyer get rope burns.” She winked. “Wait. You’re not into anything kinky, are you?”

  He laughed, and the tightness in his chest eased a little. “No. I got these when I was a kid.”

  She faced him now, running her hand over his shoulders. “How did you get them?”

  He pressed his lips together, and then cursed softly. “I got them from my father.”

  Her mind worked, and he saw when she came to the conclusion. Part of it, anyway. “You’re always slipping nautical terms into conversation. You did this on a boat.”

  “Yes. I was sailing with my father.” The familiar bitterness rose up but he swallowed it back down. “He was trying to teach me, although he only did it to show up my mother’s brother.”

  “Your mother’s brother?”

  “My Uncle Jackson. He took me sailing every weekend until the summer I turned eight. Then Eddie decided it didn’t look right if he pawned his son off on his brother-in-law.”

  She kept stroking him, his arms, his thigh, almost as if she didn’t realize she was doing it. He took the comfort she gave him, though. He’d never told anyone this story, but the mood and the girl made his tongue loose.

  “My father pushed me really hard. It was raining, and the rope was biting into my hands but he wouldn’t let me stop until I executed every maneuver and knot correctly.”

  She took his hand again, looking at the tiny scars closely. “You blistered, I bet.”

  “Like a bitch. My mother tried to take care of my hands afterwards but Eddie wouldn’t let her. He told her not to treat me like a pussy.”

  Bree gasped. “That’s harsh.”

  “Yes, well Eddie’s a son-of-a-bitch. The next day she treated my hands, but the blisters had formed and split and formed over and over again.” He shrugged, and gently pulled his hand from hers. “I healed.”

  “Your hands, anyway.”

  “No one could see them after a while. In college I rowed crew, so I had callouses.” He cupped her face and brought his brow to hers. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”