Into the Flames (Jupiter Point Book 3)

by Jennifer Bernard

  "But she'd never leave her family at Christmastime. You saw them at Thanksgiving. Her family actually likes each other. It wouldn't be Christmas without her."

  "Shows how much you know." Sidney stuck her finger in the peanut butter and helped herself to a big glob. For once, he didn't swat her hand away from the jar. That proved how rattled he was. "Her parents are going to visit her aunt in Arizona. Brianna is trying to think of a way to get out of it. This could be her escape ticket."

  "No. No. You like Brianna, right?"

  "Duh. She's like the only grown-up worth spending time with."

  She went for the peanut butter jar again but he snatched it away from her. "So why do you want to inflict our family on her?"

  "Now that," she pointed her peanut butter finger at him, "is a legitimate objection. But I've been thinking about it and you know what the best thing about Brianna is?"

  Rollo was suddenly glad for his beard. Pretty handy when it came to hiding his expressions. The best thing about Brianna…where would he start? Her wild moans when he licked her to orgasm? Or the way she slept naked when she was waiting for him? The way her body curled around him when he slipped into her bed late at night? The passion with which she kissed him, touched him…the passion with which she did everything. Or maybe the open, honest, real way she talked about things.

  So many aspects of Brianna competed for the title of “best thing about her.”

  "You tell me," he finally managed to say.

  "The best thing about Brianna is she accepts people exactly the way they are. That's why I like being with her. She doesn't look at me and think, ‘oh Sidney, what a rich bitch, or what a spoiled brat, or what a sad example of today's youth.’" She said that last one in a lecturing tone that made it clear someone had used that phrase on her. "When we're hanging out, I feel normal. Good normal. Like I can be my own person."

  He knew exactly what she meant. He felt that way too. "Okay, so she accepts people the way they are. What does that have to do with our family?"

  "Maybe Mother will like her. The way everyone else does."

  "Mother doesn't 'like' people. She just decides if they're useful or not."

  "True." Sidney ducked her head, swinging her legs against the counter. Rollo supposed he should tell her to get off, but he didn't have the heart. That sort of thing would never be okay at home, so her window for casual behavior would end soon. "Here's the thing, big brother. I don't want to go home unless Brianna comes. And I'm going to throw a big temper tantrum and make a huge fuss. So you might as well say yes."

  For a moment he let himself think about it. More time with Bri. She'd be a bright light during all the tense Wareham family gatherings. It would be…great. But no. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. It would disrupt their whole careful agreement.

  "Kiddo, it's not up to me. Brianna won't want to go," he finally told Sidney.

  "So if she says yes, she can come? Because Mother already said I can bring a friend."

  "A twenty-eight-year-old friend?" he asked skeptically.

  "She didn't mention an age limit. What are you, ageist?"

  "Yes, I'm ageist. I say all teenage girls ought to be quarantined," he grumbled.

  "Ha ha."

  "Look, don't talk to Brianna yet. Let me feel her out first."

  Feel her out…or feel her up… Again he gave thanks for his very convenient beard. "She was my friend first, you know."

  "Sure. You do that. Feel her out." The innocent tone of her voice had him swinging his head to look more sharply at her. Did she know? Did she suspect? But his sister just blinked at him blandly. "Oh, also? You should pay for her ticket. You owe her for all the work she's putting into that silly pond. And she might need some new clothes if she's going to meet our parents."

  "Oh my God." He clutched at his head, which was starting to pound. "Listen, don't say anything about this until I talk to Brianna. I don't want you pressuring her into something she doesn't want to do."

  "Dude. What girl wouldn't want an all-expenses-paid trip to New York City?"

  "Brianna isn't like other girls," he began, then fell silent. What if he could show her his world, the one he'd walked away from, and the one he'd have to return to? What if it didn't have to end yet? What if they could find a way?

  21

  So this was what a "fling" was like.

  It sounded so casual, like tossing a Frisbee. Since Brianna had never had a fling before, she didn't know what they were supposed to feel like. Maybe flings were supposed to make your heart fill with joy when you heard a knock on your cabin door at night. Maybe flings always made you want to take care of your lover, to make him grilled peanut-butter-banana sandwiches because he'd never tried them. To rub his shoulders when those shadows passed across his face.

  Maybe flings were supposed to be like that—all passion and fire until it burned out. Or got snuffed out by reality.

  Brianna considered herself a grounded person. After all, she worked in the dirt for a living. But these days, she felt as if she were walking on air. That phrase "head in the clouds" finally made sense to her. She caught herself dreaming of Rollo at the oddest moments. When she wasn't with him, she was remembering the last time they were together, and fantasizing about the next one.

  She refused to look at what day it was or think about how much time they had left. What was the point? The end would come when it came. But for now, this fling thing was amazing. The only problem was that she couldn't talk to any of her friends about it. Sometimes she wondered if Sidney suspected, but the girl never said anything. And Finn had finally gotten into the groove with his screenplay, so they never saw him.

  Nope, it was her and Rollo. Grabbing every opportunity they could to devour each other.

  Once she’d installed the plumbing and the rubber liner, she ordered gravel to cover the bottom of the pond. When it arrived, Rollo left his desk work to give her a hand. She loved it when he helped her out. She got to order around her own personal super-strong assistant. And sometimes kiss him.

  Rollo manned the wheelbarrow while she directed—just the way she liked it.

  "You are the bossiest boss I've ever seen," he grumbled as he positioned the wheelbarrow where she told him.

  "I'm a perfectionist. That's why you hired me, right?"

  "Is it? I don't remember anymore, but I think it had to do with a crush."

  "Ancient history." On her hands and knees, she peered into the koi pond. "And…go!"

  Rollo tipped over the wheelbarrow and poured gravel into the bottom. She hopped into the pond and spread it around with the back of her rake. Then she climbed out and accompanied him back to the load of gravel next to the driveway.

  "Why didn't we just plant a flower bed or something?" he grumbled. "Or install a bird feeder. This whole damn pond just to catch someone's eye."

  "Worked, didn't it?" Brianna winked at him. "Well, sort of."

  He gave her a half-smile. He seemed distracted today. Something was bothering him, and it wasn't the pond or the gravel. Fear speared through her heart. Did he want to end this early? Had something happened? She wasn't ready. They had a few more days. Not that she was counting, because she was trying really hard not to count.

  By the next wheelbarrow dump, she decided she couldn't take it. It was always better to hear the truth up front.

  "What's on your mind, Rollo?"

  He started. "Is it that obvious?"

  "To me, yes. You'd better just spit it out. That's what I would do."

  They reached the pile of gravel and he dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow, folding his arms across his chest. The flex of the muscles in his forearms made her mouth go dry. "Okay, here it is. Sidney wants to invite you to New York for Christmas. She has her heart set on it so she's going to pester you like a frickin' mosquito."

  Brianna's jaw fell open. "New York?" Excitement surged through her. Her and Rollo together in New York…how romantic that would be!

  "I know, it's a terrible idea. W
e need to figure out how to handle this. I couldn't tell her about us, so I didn't have a good way to head her off."

  Brianna felt as if her heart was shriveling up to the size of a walnut. "You…wouldn't want me there?"

  "Want—" He stared at her. "Want is not the point. We have…you know, an expiration date. And you know what I'll be doing in New York."

  Reality slammed into her. He'd be meeting women vetted and preapproved by the Wareham family. He'd be auditioning brides. Every time she thought about it, her insides took a dive. But she'd known this all along. There was no point in pretending it wasn't going to happen. It was always best to face the truth. "Of course I know. I don't have to be part of that. I could stay at a hotel."

  "Absolutely not." A scowl drew his eyebrows together. "We have a ten-bedroom fucking apartment. Why would you stay at a hotel? What am I even talking about? You shouldn't even go. This is nuts."

  "Why? Why is it so nuts? I've never been to New York. I don't work over Christmas anyway. Sidney wants to show me all the sights. We can do that while you do your…thing." She waved her hand between the two of them. "This is a fling, right? It's just casual. Why shouldn't I go?"

  He gripped her by the shoulders. "Because I don't want those people to get their fangs into you."

  "Those people? You mean your family?"

  He smiled grimly. "Yes. They're ruthless."

  "You don't think I can handle your family? Maybe I'm tougher than you think. I once trapped a rabid raccoon in Mrs. Murphy's attic. I built an entire fieldstone wall by hand. What do you think is going to happen?"

  He picked up the shovel and thrust it into the gravel. "This is a very bad idea."

  "It might be a good idea. I'm a little worried about Sidney going back. She seems so anxious about it. I could be extra support for her."

  He didn't answer, but she saw his jaw flex as he shoveled the gravel into the wheelbarrow. She knew he worried about the same thing.

  "Rollo. Come on. It would be my first trip anywhere."

  "My mother will shred you."

  "It's Christmas, why would she do that? Christmas in Manhattan! It'll be just like the movies."

  "Yes. Like Jaws."

  "Come on, Rollo. Don't be mad." She danced around him while he filled the wheelbarrow, scowling the entire time. She knew just what to do when he got this way. Tickle him. She tweaked him in the rib cage, making him start.

  "You're playing with fire, Bri," he warned, transferring another shovelful of gravel into the wheelbarrow.

  "Well, you're playing with rocks, so I guess we're even."

  "This can't change anything. I still have to do what I have to do."

  "Yes, but not yet, right? Come on, Rollo. Live for the moment. Seize the day." She tickled him again.

  He stuck the shovel into the gravel and snatched her off her feet. He slung her over his back in a fireman carry and strode into his house while hot excitement fizzed through her.

  "What have I told you about tickling?" he demanded once they were inside his bedroom with the door closed. As if she weighed nothing, he slid her off his shoulders and planted her on the floor.

  "You told me I'd get in big trouble." Her heart was racing, her insides melting into a puddle of goo. Lord, he was sexy when he was fake-mad at her. "Big, big trouble."

  "That's right. Turn around and put your hands on the wall." His eyes darkened to the color of the gravel in that pile outside.

  She swallowed hard, almost too excited to respond. Slowly she turned, wondering if he could see her pulse beating madly in her neck. She put her hands on the cool plaster wall. He came close behind her and ran his hands across her rear. Cutoff cargo pants with ground-in dirt—not exactly the sexiest thing to be wearing at a moment like this.

  He didn't seem to mind. With those big, nimble hands, he reached around her and undid the buttons. He slid them down her legs while she tried to remember what underwear she was wearing today. Lately, she'd been paying more attention to such things. Black, she was pretty sure.

  Whatever they were, he left them in place and drew the edge away from her sex. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing he'd find her wet and throbbing. Well, maybe he wouldn't see the throbbing, but she could feel it.

  "That's what I like to see," he growled in her ear. "Hot and wet for me."

  Oh God. He pushed her panties down her thighs. The cool air felt exquisitely torturous on her overheated sex.

  "Widen your legs, sweetheart."

  She nearly groaned as he slid his finger up and down the seam of her sex. Tightening her legs would feel so much better than widening them. She craved friction against her clit, his strong finger rubbing it the way he knew so well. In such a short time, he'd learned all about her body and what got her turned on. What got her off. She'd had more orgasms in the past couple of weeks than she had in her entire life. She couldn't get enough.

  His knee came between her thighs and nudged them apart.

  "You're just asking for it, aren't you?" He pulled on her earlobe with his teeth. She moaned.

  "No. Yes. I don't know." Her confusion kind of said it all. He had her completely rattled.

  "It's a good thing I know," he said in a tone of complete and utter confidence. It made her melt even more. And then a light swat landed on her bare ass. She squeaked and jumped.

  "Too much?" Casually but seriously, he was giving her an out. Did she want it? Warmth spread across her skin, causing a tingling sensation between her legs. And now his big, rough paw of a hand was smoothing the skin, lulling her, arousing her.

  She shook her head.

  "I want to hear you say it," he murmured.

  Of course he would. Rollo would never want to risk crossing any unacceptable lines. He cared too much. He was too good of a person.

  "Not too much," she whispered. "Not yet, anyway."

  She felt him laugh softly against her hair. She loved the way she always managed to make Rollo smile.

  Another little whack landed on her butt. Not harder, not lighter, just enough to enhance the sensation. She found herself hugging the wall, pressing her cheek against it, closing her eyes to soak in the experience. The next swat sent her soaring even higher. With her eyes closed, she felt the restrained force of his big body behind hers, the power contained inside him, the soft brush of his beard against her shoulder, the heat radiating from him. It was all so delirious, so intoxicating.

  She was already trembling on the edge of orgasm when he reached between her legs. His palm pressed warm and hard against her. Moaning, she met it with equal force, pushed her hips into him. His index finger dipped inside her. Slick with her juices, it withdrew to find her clit. Rubbing, circling, teasing, pressing, his finger drove her mad with need. She babbled crazily, something about hunting him down and killing him if he didn't make her come.

  He let out something between a laugh and a groan as he worked her into a frenzy. When she was practically screaming for relief, he did the meanest thing in the world. He stopped.

  "What—"

  "Stay right where you are. Don't move a muscle." He stepped away from her and she heard the sound of his zipper.

  Oh, thank God. She stood motionless, waiting, waiting, the moment stretching into agonizing suspension. Each passing second ratcheted up her arousal even more, because she pictured what she must look like right now. Pressed against the wall, legs wide, waiting, wanting, wet and eager.

  Then he was back, his hot, naked hips pressing against her ass. She nearly came just from the friction of his skin against hers. But she held off because she wanted him inside her. Wanted hard heat against her back, her sex, inside, outside.

  And that was what he gave her. With one palm pressed against her clit, he eased his thick shaft all the way to her core. Then he thrust again, deeper and harder, and rubbed her clit with his rough-skinned palm.

  Without warning, the pleasure burst inside her, waves after waves of it. Everything exploded into brilliant pieces of shimmering light.

&n
bsp; He held her hips still as he plunged into her again and again. As her senses returned to normal, happiness filled her being. Not because of the intense orgasm, but because her body was now giving Rollo pleasure. When he went rigid, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips and ass, she nearly came again.

  Finally he set her down and she turned, panting, to rest against the wall. He'd only undressed halfway. He still wore his long-sleeved thermal shirt. It didn't cover his powerful thighs and still half-aroused penis. The sight made her heart clutch.

  "Wow, Rollo. That was…holy crap."

  "I didn't hurt you, did I?" His forehead creased with worry.

  "Of course not. Believe me, I would have told you. Or babbled it or something."

  Finally, he smiled faintly. "I get carried away sometimes."

  She drew her panties back up, then her cutoffs. She was floating, so blissed out. She rested her head against his broad chest and dragged in a long inhale of Rollo scent. "Why do you always smell so good? Better than my greenhouse."

  He laughed softly, then snagged her wrist. She looked up at him. The look in his eyes, hot but also achingly tender, made her breath catch. "No matter what happens in New York, let's remember this, okay? Us. Being ourselves."

  She swallowed, riveted by all the emotions churning behind the surface of those blue-gray eyes. Then his expression shifted, his gaze travelled down to her mouth, and he cupped her face in his hands. The kiss that came next rocked her all the way to her core. Desperate, urgent, as if she were the most necessary, essential being in the world. As if he couldn't do without her.

  And without him saying the words, she knew he was glad she was going to New York.

  22

  "First things first," Sidney crowed as soon as the Warehams’ chauffeur dropped them off in front of the Park Avenue brownstone. Brianna pulled her light wool coat more tightly around her, shocked by the icy wind whipping down the street. Jupiter Point never got this cold. But here, the long avenues with their towering parades of buildings seemed to act as wind tunnels. She shivered, wondering if frostbite was a real danger on the Upper East Side. "Shopping."