Chapter 2
Iona quickened her steps. She couldn’t believe her luck. A case of instant lust had loosened her inhibitions. She’d seen Wyn’s incredible body stretching from underneath the vehicle he’d been working on and wanted him. Simple as that. Not seeing his face had made it easier. It had turned him into something to acquire. A well-defined, hard, lickable toy, one she couldn’t wait to get her mouth on.
It wasn’t an aspect of her personality she was proud of, but she’d been raised knowing she could have anything she desired. Luckily there were few things she’d ever cared about enough to go after. Wyn Sander couldn’t be one of them, no matter how much his body lured her closer. That was all she needed. Have her way with her new sister’s brother-in-law, then walk once the orgasm was over. Iona’s goal was to become a part of Ronnie’s life, not to alienate her.
On top of her shameful flirting, she had to flinch when he reached for her. Her reaction to Wyn’s size was silly, of course. What did it matter if he was as tall as her ex-fiancé? Wyn wasn’t Dmitry. Still, the automatic response embarrassed her.
She squared her shoulders. It would be fine. Extended families didn’t actually spend much time together. She’d probably see him a couple of times over the next month at the most. She could ignore the ache between her legs for that long.
The thought settled her churning gut. She turned to offer him an apology. His light-blue work shirt filled her vision. Her words got stuck in her throat. Fortunately the ugly cotton didn’t mold to the muscles she suspected were hidden under the material. It did, however, stretch tightly over his wide chest, offer a tantalizing glimpse of his tan skin. She wanted to pop the buttons and discover if he was completely bare or if a light dusting of hair marked a path to his erection.
From the impressive bulge in his pants, he was probably huge. And wide. A man Wyn’s size would have a cock that reached his belly button. How would it feel to take him into her body?
And why was she even thinking about his penis? That wasn’t helping to settle her nerves.
She swallowed hard and dragged her gaze to his face. He looked similar to Ronnie’s fiancé, only younger with an aura of innocence. The latter was most likely a lie. He probably used his boyish looks to draw women to him, much as he had her. From his shaggy brown hair to his huge feet, he mesmerized her.
“Iona?” He hooked his arm around her waist. Sparks of awareness raced from where he touched her belly to her breasts and clit. “You really do need a protector, don’t you?”
If he only knew. She shrugged off the thought before Dmitry’s image replaced Wyn’s incredible one. Five thousand miles separated her from her ex-fiancé. She’d been doing well not thinking about him unless he called. She wanted to keep it that way.
“You almost walked right into my truck.”
She blinked and faced the black truck she’d noticed earlier. “I was lost in thought.”
A lopsided smile spread over his face, and a deep dimple formed while his eyes twinkled with pure naughtiness. The conflicting hints of his personality quickened her breath. “Were you undressing me this time?”
And imagining what it’d feel like to impale herself on his cock.
“About that.” She turned away before he saw the truth in her eyes. “I must apologize for my boldness. It was horribly rude.”
Long, roughened fingers captured her chin. He tilted her head. His face filled her vision and became her world.
“It was a turn-on. You left me feeling hot, desired, and hard.” He stepped closer. His rigid length pushed against her arm. “I hope we get the chance to”—he brushed his lips against her ear—“get to know each other better.”
Her breath escaped in a shaky exhale. She eased out of his embrace. “Umm…I’m sure…I mean, I don’t…” She squeezed her eyes shut. He turned her into a blubbering fool. “I’m here for the wedding.” She met his gaze. “Only. Do you understand?”
“Absolutely. I’ll take you out to Ronnie’s house, then come back and look at your car.”
His easy agreement stirred her unease. She wouldn’t question it. The less she spoke to him, the better. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
He opened the truck door and leaned against the side of his vehicle, arms crossed over his chest. “Great. Hop in.”
She glanced from the lifted truck to him. No way was she going to be able to get in without a step stool. “No running boards?”
“No need for them.”
She waited a moment, but he didn’t offer to help her. Fine. She grabbed on to the door, raised her foot, and huffed. Her toes didn’t reach the edge. She was going to have to hop into it. Literally.
“Want a little help?”
“Yes.” She glared at him. “Unless you want me to twist my ankle trying to get into this monstrosity.”
He stepped behind her and settled his hands on her hips. In one easy move, he picked her up and set her on the seat. His fingertips lingered on her waist. “You’re going to get bored over the next month if all you do is plan for a party.”
“I doubt it. Ronnie hasn’t even started arranging anything. Weddings back home take months, years to plan.” She would know. Hers had taken two years to organize and thirty seconds to bring to a screeching halt. She thanked God every day she’d decided to surprise her fiancé the day before their ceremony.
“Not here. We can get a couple of pigs from the Amish farmers, order some kegs, and book one of the local bands. Easy. I doubt that’ll take more than a day.”
She snapped her mouth closed. “Pigs? What do we need pigs for?”
He frowned. “Well, the pig roast, of course.”
“Pig roast,” she repeated.
“Sure. We’re having this thing over Labor Day weekend. A pig roast is perfect.” He rubbed his chin. “Hell, we might need more than a few kegs. Maybe a couple of boxes of wine too.”
He couldn’t be serious. Could he? Boxes of wine. She stared at him for some clue as to whether he was playing with her or not.
He held her gaze and finally raised a brow. “I suppose we can get those wine coolers girls like too.”
“Wine coolers?”
He caught her braid and rubbed the loose strands between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, but I bet you’re more of a beer girl.” He tugged her cap off and dropped it in her lap. “I love the Phillies too. You know, I can take you down to see a game since you’re going to have so much free time. Beer, a hot dog, a baseball game; it’ll be fun.”
“A baseball game?” What? Had she turned into a parrot now?
“Sure. Have you ever been to one?”
She shook her head.
“Then we’re definitely hitting one soon. You can go dressed exactly as you are. Shorts, a loose top, and these…” He skimmed his fingers down her leg to the straps of her heeled sandals. “These shoes. You need to wear them. They look good on you.”
“I feel too short without them.” Why she admitted the truth, she didn’t know.
His brows turned down. “You’re not short, Iona.” He caressed her thigh. “You’re exactly as you’re supposed to be.”
She stared at him, unable to come up with a response. Nobody had ever made her feel so…right about herself. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned closer. Anticipation built. Would he kiss her? She held her breath. He brushed a loose wisp of hair from her cheek. She fought her disappointment. “What about football? Ever been to a game?”
“No.”
“I’ll take you to a preseason game, then. Would you like that?”
“Sure.” She heard the word come out of her mouth but couldn’t believe she’d agreed to a date. Two dates with a man who made her feel crazed and horny. “We can invite Kyle and Ronnie to join us.”
He traced her jaw. “Maybe another time. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
“I…umm…I don’t—”
“Iona?”
“Yes?”
He turned her face toward him and brought his lips to within a hairbreadth of hers. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
She felt herself nod. He covered her mouth with his and licked the seam of her lips. She parted them on a sigh, and he slipped inside. Slow, gentle thrusts of his tongue eased her into an intimate dance she was sure she’d never experienced before. The thought sounded ridiculous, but the rightness took hold.
He adjusted his strokes to match her, lead her, and arouse her as no man ever had. Dmitry had always demanded her passion from the second he touched her. Not Wyn. He fanned it until desire coiled within her.
On a groan, he tilted his head and delved a little deeper but without forcing her. He cradled the back of her head and made love to her mouth. She couldn’t come up with any other way to describe the gentle strokes of his tongue against hers.
Unable to resist him, she linked her hands around his neck. The ends of his mussed hair teased her skin. She gave in to the urge she’d had since the moment he’d slid out from beneath the truck. She toyed with the soft waves, twisting the strands and tugging.
A low sound crawled up his throat. He tightened his hold on her, digging his fingers into her hair, and kissed her harder. Passion gripped her. She met his thrusts with ones of her own. Their teeth banged and breathing quickened.
She turned sideways, never breaking their lip lock, and pulled him closer. It wasn’t enough. She inched her bottom to the edge of the seat, spreading her legs wide in the open door. He stepped into the space she made. Another tug and she brought their bodies flush, his hardness to her achy center.
She rubbed against him, uncaring of how forward she acted. She only knew she hungered for what Wyn could give her. The repercussions hung in the forefront of her mind. They couldn’t succumb to the lust completely. She refused to hurt Wyn or Ronnie with her wanton needs, but Iona craved his passion, if only through the kiss they shared. It became necessary, undeniable.
A car horn blared. Catcalls rent the air. She jumped back, but Wyn didn’t let her escape. He held her close with one palm against the back of her neck and the other at the base of her spine. The grin he leveled on her quickened her heartbeat. The man was wicked.
“Thank you for the kiss, Iona.”
She dragged the tip of her tongue across her lips. His taste lingered there, a hint of mint and chocolate. Heaven. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll pick you up after breakfast tomorrow and give you a tour of Sander’s Valley.”
She inhaled slowly and tried to calm her racing heart. “You don’t have to. I’m sure Ronnie will.”
He trailed his lips across her cheek to her ear, quickening her pulse once more. “I want to. Oh, and you might want to wear sneakers or boots. We’re going to do a lot of walking.”
“We are?”
“Mmm-hmm. I’ll pack us a picnic basket too. You’re mine all day tomorrow.”
“I am?” Heaven help her, she sounded like a silly girl, not Gerald Volkov’s daughter or a board member of the most successful bank and investment firm in Russia.
“Yes. The next day and the one after that too.” He licked the rim of her ear. “Maybe every day. Pencil me into your schedule. That way you know to expect me in your life.”
“Wyn, I didn’t—”
“Do you want me to kiss you again or take you out to Ronnie’s house? Frankly, I like the first idea, but I must warn you, with the way I feel right now, you’ll be losing those shorts. If you don’t want that to happen, we should stop this.”
With her nails digging into his shoulders, she fought her first response. She wanted his lips on her, his cock lodged deep, and his arms around her. Not happening. She needed to set some boundaries and tell him she didn’t want to fuck him, but the refusal wouldn’t come out. Desire held her in a tight grip and threatened to wipe away her concerns.
“Well, Iona?”
“Home.”
He sighed and eased back. “Home it is, then.”
His desire-hazed eyes told her they would pick up where they’d left off tomorrow. Hopefully she’d have enough time to come up with the right words to kill his attraction without hurting his feelings.
She scooted back. The truck door closed. He walked around the front and climbed in the driver’s side. She followed his every move with rapt fascination. The man could’ve been a model. Or a porn star. She mentally rolled her eyes at the thought.
This was what six months without a man does to woman. She was sex-starved.
She shook her head, breaking the trance Wyn had cast over her. Yes, she was horny, but she didn’t need a man to ease her. God had given her fingers for a reason.
“We’ll load up your things first.” He laid a hand on her thigh. “What kind of car did you buy?”
The change in topic caught her off guard. The truth spilled out. “I liked Ronnie’s car and wanted an old one too.” She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to remember what the salesman had told her. Classic cars had never intrigued her until she’d sat in her sister’s sports car and heard the rumble of its engine. “A ’67 Camaro. It’s black with white stripes. A convertible.”
His eyes widened. “That’s a beauty. What made you pick it?”
She refused to tell him the truth—it was pretty. The reasoning behind her choice would make her sound shallow. Although, according to Dmitry, she was. A princess. His little princess. A shiver ran down her spine.
“It has the…umm…racing engine. That makes it rare.”
He whistled. “Damn, Iona. I think I’m in love with you.”
She dropped her gaze and didn’t want to ponder why those words made her breathing quicken. “I hope you can fix my car. I really like it.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you. Money’s not an issue.”
A grin spread across his face and a playful glint sparked in his eyes, but the way he focused on her mouth made her body come alive. “No money. You can pay me in kisses.”
Her lower belly quivered with the desire laced into his words. “Is that something you offer all your customers?”
He skimmed his hand higher until the tips of his fingers slid under the edge of her shorts. “Just pretty girls who capture my interest.”
“So that’s half the county, then?”
He shook his head. “Only one ever has.”
She suspected he referred to her but had to be sure. Whatever was happening between them had taken a fast track. There’d be no room for misunderstanding. She had to figure out where they stood and how to stop it. Or how she’d deal with it. She feared nothing would deter Wyn Sander. He wore determination like a second skin. It should frighten her but didn’t. It intrigued her.
“Then you should go back to her and not dally with women who are only visiting.” And those who refuse to become another guy’s possession.
“I mean you.” He used his free hand to tilt her head. Her gaze collided with his. “As for how long you’re staying, I believe in taking one day at a time.”
“We just met.”
“Which is why you’re going to your sister’s house and not mine.” He bent closer. His mint-and-chocolate-flavored breath bathed her face. She inhaled deeply, needing his scent in her lungs. “But I promise you’ll end up in my bed.”
“I will?”
“Yes.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I’d bet my life on it.”
He didn’t give her the chance to counter his claim. He kissed her, slow and gentle, exactly as he had last time, but she felt his passion and hunger in each stroke. He’d devour her when they came together. She’d never be the same.
He eased back on a groan. “We’ll continue that tomorrow, darling.”
Darling? Her stomach did a little flip-flop. The reverence behind that one word did crazy things to her heart. Emotions rose, ones she had no business feeling after being in Wyn’s presence for less than an hour. She swallowed hard and ignored the silly thoughts.
“We
’ll see, Wyn. No promises.”
“I agree. No promises. Guarantees are better.”
He threw the truck into drive and pulled out. She faced the front and tried to keep her mind on the scenery, but her gaze kept drifting to the man who’d just vowed to fuck her. Actually, he’d implied it. Either way, she knew he was right. Unless she skipped town, they’d end up tangled together.
She sighed. How in the world did she handle the turn her life had taken?
One day at a time. Anything else would likely break her, mind and spirit.
Chapter 3
Iona sipped her wine and listened to Kyle and Ronnie talk about Abigail Harder, the new manager Ronnie had hired for her art gallery. Iona had heard Abigail’s name mentioned in the circle of her father’s friends. The woman came highly recommended. Iona had mentioned that, but Ronnie was having a hard time handing control of the Axel Gallery over to someone else.
Kyle didn’t seem to mind that the debate had lasted close to an hour. Then again, in the short time Iona had known him, she’d learned where his fiancée was concerned, his patience was endless.
Iona’s was not.
She set her glass down. “Ronnie, when Abby arrives for the wedding, you can share your experience with her, but for now, let her arrange the pieces however she wants. You need to give her the chance to succeed. She can’t do that while you’re holding her hand.”
Ronnie stiffened. “And if sales suffer because Abby isn’t showcasing the in-demand artwork?”
“Then she’ll either change her tactics, or you’ll replace her.” Iona leaned forward. “You’re already handling the auctions and the books. You’ll know if she’s faltering.”
Kyle laid a hand on Ronnie’s thigh. “Your sister is right, doll.”
Ronnie glanced between them and sighed. “All right, I’ll keep my nose out of it.” She picked up her bottle of water and sipped. “I heard you met Wyn. What do you think of him?”
Fix Me: Men of Sander’s Valley, book 2 Page 2