by Jen Talty
“They are.”
“I have to admit, I had pre-judged them as assholes because of your brother Ethan and the way he talked to you, but even he’s not so bad.”
“I withdrew from my family after what happened with Ralph and Jasmine. I didn’t really talk to anyone, so, they were rightfully worried, but after talking with my sister tonight, I think things will be better all around.”
“You looked like you were having a pretty heavy discussion.”
She let out a slight laugh. “We were, but it wasn’t about our past, which was nice. It felt good to just be sisters.”
Every time he arched a brow, he lowered his chin, tilting his head slightly to the right, and the left side of his mouth curled upward in an amused half-smile. It made her want to cup his face and suck on his lips.
“What did you talk about then?”
Oh boy, that was a question she wasn’t sure she should answer with full-blown honesty. She took a big sip of her wine, letting the fruity substance linger in her throat.
He stretched out on his side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand, his elbow on the bed next to her thigh, looking up. “Now I’m really curious.” He took his other hand and rested it on her bare thigh.
Every inch of her skin was on fire, as if she’d been laying on the beach under the hot sun.
“We talked a little about you.”
He smiled. “And?”
“Fishing for compliments?” Her heart fluttered as his fingers danced up and down her leg, dangerously close to slipping under her shirt.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to hearing one or two.”
She let out a nervous chuckle. It had been awhile since she’d slept with a man and she hadn’t had much experience either, since her dating record consisted of her high school sweetheart, her college boyfriend, Ralph, and the arrogant asshole she dated last year.
“Everyone thinks you’re sweet.”
“That’s what every hot-blooded American male wants to hear.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips on the inside of her thigh.
Her body shivered with delight. A tidal wave of desire crashed against her body, splashing her with electric pulses from her toes to her lips.
“My mom thinks you’re sexy.”
He dropped his head to her lap. “I only care what you think.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, gliding down tentatively across his scar, feeling the raised mark. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said softly, his hot breath tickling her skin.
“This morning, when you jogged down the porch steps shirtless, I noticed how this went down the side of your arm.”
He let out a long breath, before sitting up on his knees. “Do the scars bother you?”
“No.” She cupped his face, gently kissing his lips. “They are part of who you are and I can’t help but think of everything you had to endure—”
He grabbed her wrists, yanking them away. “I don’t want or need pity.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t pity you. Not one single bit.”
He opened his mouth but she hushed him with a short kiss. “I admire your courage and honor. What you do is special and not everyone is cut out for a job like yours. When I see you, I don’t see the scars as something separate. I see a man who puts others before himself.” She tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head. The damage from the fire speckled down the side of his arm in a trail of red blemishes. But the skin on his side had turned more white and veiny from the burns.
“I don’t like attention being brought to them,” he whispered with a shaky voice. His body still tensed as he leaned away from her.
She wanted to cradle him in her arms and hold him tight for hours. “I don’t mean to focus on your scars, but I am mortified at what Lydia did.” Tentatively, she reached out, palming his chest, fingering one of his scars.
His pec twitched. “I looked pretty bad after the accident.” The harsh glare he had scrutinized her with had turned to a soft gleam.
“So?” She ran a finger down his chest, across his stomach, following the burn marks to the top of his hip. “She’s a shallow woman and never deserved you.”
“I’m not going to argue with you on either account.” He ran his hand up and down her arm, drawing her a little closer. “However, it took a half a dozen surgeries to get me to look this good.”
“You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re just saying that to get into my pants.”
Her pulse roared as her chest heaved up and down with a deep breath. His smile sent an electric current over her skin.
They stared at each other for a long moment, locked in a mesmerizing shimmer of heat and raw passion. Without thinking, she lifted her shirt over her head, exposing her bare chest.
His eyes widened before the lids lowered halfway. His hand cupped her breast with the softest of touch, his thumb resting just under her nipple. Raising his other hand, he brushed her hair behind her ear, pressing his lips against her shoulder. “You’re not only beautiful, but you’re genuine.”
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Remember that, because I can’t promise anything romantic will ever come out of my mouth again.”
She took his thumb and rubbed it against her nipple. Her cheeks flushing red at the boldness of her act.
The corners of his lips jerked up into a smile as he pinched and twisted.
She dropped her head back and he immediately kissed the soft skin under her ear, licking down her neck, and sucking a nipple into his mouth, his tongue rolling over the hard nub.
Digging her fingers into his shoulder blades, she leaned back as he gently laid her on the bed. His mouth and hands roamed her body with a delicate, yet hungry touch. With ease, he rolled her cotton panties to her ankles before tossing them across the room.
The dim light from the lamps filled the room, giving him a perfect view of her naked body. She raised up on her elbows, his hands squeezing her thighs just above the knee.
He stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at her as he undid the button on his jeans. Her breath hitched as she bit down on her lower lip. His stomach muscles twitched as he lowered his pants, and his underwear, revealing himself to her.
She tried to swallow the gasp that rumbled through her throat as he lowered himself to the bed between her legs. His gaze wandering across her body, filled with lust.
Bending over, he kissed her inner thigh, rubbing his fingers across her swollen nub. “Tell me what you like,” he whispered.
“I like this.” She glided her fingers through his soft, thick hair.
His tongue flicked out, working in unison with his finger, gliding back and forth in a glorious circle before clamping his mouth over her.
“Oh…yessss…” she managed to ground out as she watched him devour her body as if she held the last drop of wine from the world’s most expensive bottle. She gasped for air, thrashing her head back and forth. His fingers stroked her insides like a pianist playing a romantic song for his lover.
“Oh, my, God.” She clutched her legs together, trapping his head as her orgasm ripped through her body unexpectedly. She’d always been able to come during oral sex, but it generally took a little concentration on her part, but not this time.
Not with Gavin.
Inhaling deeply, she allowed her body to relax as he kissed his way across her warmed skin. She blinked a few times, focusing solely on his chiseled face. Before she had a chance to ravage him, he’d covered himself with a condom and pressed himself against her.
“You’re amazing,” he said, fanning her face with his hands, entering her body with a slow caressing thrust.
She’d wanted to take his manhood into her hands and feel and taste his contrasting hard but soft body, but feeling him stretch inside her made the room spin. “Gavin,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist, digging her heels int
o ass.
“Charlotte,” he whispered back, rocking back and forth inside her, groaning in her ear.
She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else, like this, ever again. He fit inside her like a key with its corresponding lock. Grinding against him, she called out his name over and over again until he spilled his release in a pulsating explosion, screaming her name.
When he collapsed on top of her, she accepted his weight, wrapping her arms around his body, holding him tight.
“Gavin?”
“Yes, Charlotte?”
“Do you think we might be able to do that again in a little while?”
Chapter 8
NOTHING FELT BETTER than having a woman draped over your body, her skin still hot from a passionate night of lovemaking.
Charlotte had been more than he bargained for in and out of bed. The shy girl next door not only made his body hum like the engine inside the perfect sports car as it took the corners of Mulholland Drive, but she was by far the smartest person in any room. She had a certain sass to her when she was around people she felt comfortable with and she carried herself with a confidence he hadn’t seen before.
Not that he’d seen her in many situations outside of hiding in her apartment working.
He kissed her forehead.
“What time is it?” she whispered, letting out a long breath. Her hand glided up his stomach and rested on his chest.
“Three in the morning.”
“My mom said breakfast was at eight. We should set an alarm.”
Sleeping in a different building, far away from her family, was one thing. Having breakfast with them was something entirely different. His pulse kicked up a notch. If she were any other woman, he’d find a way to get out of it.
“Who will be there?”
“All my siblings, their spouses and kids, and at least my father’s brother, but I’m sure others will show up.”
He swallowed. He didn’t want to see Lydia again. Everyone at the party noticed his scars. It was impossible not to, but no one eyed them like Lydia had. The second she tilted her head to get a better look, his skin burned. No one had ever made him feel like his scars made him less of man.
Except Lydia.
Charlotte kissed his chest, her fingers gliding across his body, and his scars, with a loving caress. She too had studied his scars, but she did so the same way she explored his body, as if getting to know every texture of his skin, all the contours of his muscles, brought them closer together. She didn’t treat his scars any differently than any other part of his body.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, snuggling closer.
He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling her fresh flowery scent. In the distance, the faint sound of what could be a home alarm tickled his ears. “Do you hear that?” Carefully, he undraped her body and sat up, craning his neck, trying to focus on the sounds of the night.
“Hear what?”
“Sirens.” He slipped from the bed, finding his jeans.
“I don’t hear anything.” She clutched the sheets to her chest, the moonlight shining through the window, hitting her profile in just the right manner, showing off her glowing skin.
He paused, tearing his gaze from Charlotte, glancing out the window, which wasn’t angled to where he could see the main house.
“Come back to bed,” Charlotte cooed, before her eyes went wide as the sound of police cars and fire trucks filled the air.
“They aren’t too—”
Knock! Knock!
“Charlotte? Gavin?” Ned, her father called out. “Sorry to wake you.”
“We’re awake,” Gavin said, snagging his shirt before opening the door to the bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder. Charlotte had scooted to the edge of the bed, wrapping herself in a blanket. He pulled the door closed, giving her a chance to get dressed, but really, no reason for her father to see the unmade bed his daughter shared with her boyfrie… he blinked. He’d deal with that thought later.
Her father stood at the front door in a robe. He raked a hand through his thinning hair.
“What’s wrong?” Gavin met Ned in the center of the room.
“Our alarm was tripped and I didn’t like you two out here alone if someone was on the grounds.”
“How long ago did it go off? I didn’t hear it.”
“With the number of guests we have in the house, I didn’t have the alarm set as I normally would. But someone tripped the alarm going into the pool area.”
The hair on the back of his necked prickled to attention. “Sir, you shouldn’t have come out here. You could have called.”
“First, don’t ever call me sir.” Ned arched a brow. “And second, that’s my daughter in there and I would never leave her alone.”
Gavin swallowed, nodding his head once. “I was just concerned for your own safety.”
Ned reached in his robe and pulled out a handgun. “I appreciate that.”
More than half of all of Texas had some kind of weapon, so the gun should come as no surprise to him.
“Until I know what is going on, I’d like for you and Charlotte to come to the main house.” Ned put the gun back in his pocket.
“Of course,” Gavin said, glancing over his shoulder. “My father is a police officer, and I know he’s on duty tonight. I can give him a call if necessary.”
“You didn’t follow in his footsteps?” Ned asked.
“My mom is a firefighter, so I followed hers.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
Before he could respond, Charlotte pushed open the bedroom door.
“Daddy, what’s going on?” She tiptoed across the room, giving her father a hug.
“Probably nothing to worry your pretty little head about, but better to be—”
“Don’t patronize me, Dad. We both know mom defends some pretty nasty people, which is why you have such an elaborate security system. So, what happened?” She slipped her arm around Gavin’s waist.
He tensed, though it wasn’t from her touch.
“It’s possible someone tried to break in,” Ned said.
“Let’s all go to the main house,” Gavin said, pressing his hand against the center of her back. “I’m sure I know the first responders, so I’d like to talk to them.”
He followed Ned across the cement patio. All the lights had been turned on, illuminating the green water rippling in the pool. He expected to see the remnants of a major party, but everything had been cleaned up. The only thing left behind were the extra tables and chairs.
Three large double sliding doors lined the kitchen. He’d never seen a kitchen the size or magnitude of this one with its two side-by-side double ovens, a freezer the size of a fridge, an island that sat at least twelve people, and a floor to ceiling wine cooler. The counters were an off-white color with swirls of grey and light green. He wasn’t sure, but he assumed they were granite.
The room was filled with all her siblings. Her nieces and nephews were sprawled out on the sofa and floor in the family room, watching something on television.
“We’d like to view the videotape now,” the sound of his father’s voice rang out strong.
“My Dad is here,” he whispered in Charlotte’s ear. “I should go talk to him.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Stay here with everyone else.”
Her right brow twitched.
He’d hurt her feelings, but now was not the time or the place to introduce her to his father. He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Ned followed him through the kitchen, down the long corridor and to the foyer where Rosie and Charlotte’s oldest brother Ethan, stood talking with his father and his partner, Edward Hayes.
“Here is my husband,” Rosie said, holding her hand out. Ned took it and moved to stand next to his wife. “As I said before, we had a large party last night, and still have a house full of guests. He went to get our daughter and her boyfriend from the pool house.”
Gavin clea
red his throat, making his presence known.
His father turned his head. “Son? What are you doing here?”
“Your son is our daughter’s boyfriend.” Rosie said.
Gavin’s mother was going to have his head on a platter, especially if his little sister had said anything.
“Why don’t we focus on what tripped the alarm,” Gavin said, looking down, realizing he was barefoot. “You mentioned something about surveillance video?”
“Yes. We have cameras set up all over the property. They run on seventy-two hour tapes,” Rosie said.
“My wife is a criminal attorney, and I always worry someone is going to—”
“Darling, do we need to get into this now?”
“No dear,” Ned said, pointing down to the north side of the house. “We can access everything from my wife’s home office.”
“Mind if I take a look around the property?” his father’s partner, Hayes asked.
“Be our guest,” Ned said, leading the way through a maze of rooms, all decorated in a shaker style with a mixture of dark leathers, wooden chairs, and pieces of artwork that depicted an outdoor lifestyle.
It was difficult for Gavin to reconcile that Charlotte came from this much money and lived the modest lifestyle she portrayed. The only experience he had with wealthy people had been Lydia and the occasional fancy house he had to enter due to a fire or other emergency.
All the way at the far end of the house, through a set of French doors, was Rosie's home office. It had a large white, u-shaped desk, with a set of computer screens displayed prominently on the back wall. Ned sat behind the desk, pulling out a keyboard drawer. The monitors buzzed to life.
“The call came in at 2:38,” his father said, leaning over Ned’s shoulder. “If we could look at every angle you have from 1:38 until now.”
“Sure thing.”
“Why don’t you pull it up, and my son and I can go through the footage and if we see anything, we’ll let you know.”
“That’s fine.” Rosie stood at the door, waiting for Ned. “I’m hoping that it was nothing, though I hate wasting your time.”