Summer Love: A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology

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Summer Love: A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology Page 34

by Piper Rayne


  “No, they aren’t,” she states. “You’re just looking in the wrong places, like Luna Harbor. Not that I mind, but why are you here in the middle of the day? Are we slacking?”

  I show her a chocolate bar. “I need sugar or I might maim one of my employees or several of the patrons that toured Wicked Luna today.”

  “You know how to fix that,” she says.

  I have a solution that she might hate. “By quitting?”

  She grins. “That’s one solution. The other is contacting the temp agency.”

  “Mr. Matthews said today help is on the way. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had called an agency and requested two people to be here today.”

  Her playful smile stretches when she asks, “Are they hot?”

  I glare. “I didn’t ask them to send me their profile pictures or Tinder handle names.”

  She marches to a shelf where she takes a bag. Then, she takes away the chocolate and shoves said bag into my hand. “Here, this should keep you calm for the rest of the day. You don’t have time to go to the police station, and I don’t have bail money.”

  I’m ready to murder someone. She’s right. I wave the lavender gummies bag. “How much for this?”

  “It’s on the house,” she answers, concentrating on her computer.

  “Nydia,” I say her name as if saying, are-you-kidding-me? She needs paying customers, not a needy friend who comes and steals candy every time she has the urge to murder someone.

  “Siobhan,” she says my name and adds, “Leave, I have things to do, and you have a beer empire to run.”

  “Honestly, I should just quit,” I finally say that out loud.

  I came here for a different reason. Who thought that raising goats and making cheese could be my future? Maybe me, when I had a guy who supported my dream. Who knew he’d meet someone else during his trips to the city? Loyalty is hard to find these days.

  Asshole.

  Nydia’s body tenses. “There’s always that option. I’ll miss you, but with your qualifications, you can get a better job in the city.”

  “I can’t just quit. Mr. Cantú needs me,” I mumble.

  The poor guy and I are like soulmates—two people who don’t have a family or anyone to love—or love us.

  It happens too fast. Someone pushes me.

  I hear the voice before a pair of strong arms catch me. “Watch where you’re going, asshole.” The same voice says, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  Unfortunately, I can only hold onto the tray and not the pitcher and glasses I carried on it.

  “Thank you,” I say, once I find my balance and look at the damage on the floor.

  Thankfully, the busboy is already approaching with the roll-in bucket, the mop, and the sweeper.

  “I got it, Ms. Walker.”

  “Thank you, Arnold.”

  When I move my gaze to take a good look at my savior, I almost gasp. He’s nearly a foot taller than my five-five, with broad shoulders. I wonder if he’s lean and athletic under that suit. I can say that he exudes male perfection. If I wasn’t busy worrying about running the sports bar, I’d drag him to the office and see how virile he is.

  His dark, chocolate eyes stare at me as if he’s waiting for my next move. I could grab the collar of his white shirt and kiss him. God knows I haven’t kissed anyone in a million years. I bet this guy would stop my heart just by touching me with his sinful lips.

  I count to ten, controlling the lust and reminding myself that I’m in a public place. At work. In front of the sexiest specimen I've ever seen in my life. Nydia was right. You can find perfect men outside Luna Harbor. If only they stopped by more often.

  “You okay?” he asks, touching my head lightly and then caressing my face. “Did you bang your head?”

  His touch makes my skin sizzle. He’s a hot griddle, and I’m just about to be well done.

  “I’m fine,” I confirm, dusting off my jeans. “Would you like a table?”

  He looks around. “It seems like it’s not your night, is it?”

  “You have no idea,” I confirm without adding or my month, year, maybe I should get myself a new life. “We have some room at the bar. Tell Tim, the bartender, that you’re our guest for the night.”

  “Do you have guests often?”

  I arch a teasing brow. “You want to feel special and know you’re the only one?” I shake my head a couple of times. “I’m not sure if this has been done before, and I don’t want to lie. This is my first. I feel like it’s the least I could do.”

  “Don’t think that I just saved you to get a free meal. Maybe I did it to score a date,” he says flirtatiously.

  Laughing, I point toward the empty barstool. “Have a nice dinner.”

  “I will if you tell me your name,” he says with a deep voice rich with sensuality.

  I wave my fingers and walk away.

  Three hours later, as I’m about to leave, that same crisp male voice that has been playing in my head says, “Are you off?”

  “Are you stalking me?”

  He lifts his arms, palms facing toward me as if saying, I’m innocent. Added to it is a crooked grin that makes my knees wobble. “I wouldn’t dare. This was a coincidence.”

  “I want to believe you, but—”

  “Then believe me,” he interrupts me. Looking up to the sky. “I forgot how gorgeous it is outside.”

  “You live in a cave?”

  “Are you fetching for information?”

  “Maybe,” I answer, looking up at the night sky. This is part of the magic of Luna Harbor. The blanket of stars filled with constellations and the souls of those who left this Earth. At least, that’s what Mom used to say when she was still alive. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  “My grandmother used to tell us that our ancestors lived in the stars. They illuminate our paths during the night,” he says, still looking at the sky in awe.

  “She sounds like a wise woman,” I mumble.

  “She was one of the best. I…” He pauses and moves his attention toward me. Something flickers in his eyes. I’m not sure how it happens, but the next thing I know, his mouth comes down on mine.

  It’s either the drought or the surprise factor, but when our mouths collide, I’m consumed by a blaze of lust that burns my body. I love how his lips mold to mine as if they fit like a piece of a puzzle. He releases a groan when a throaty moan escapes me. I’m breathless and yet, filled with new air.

  My hands come around his neck, touching his soft, dark wavy hair. His arms wrap around me like a cocoon and pull me closer to him.

  There’s nothing between us but heat and the flimsy material of our clothes.

  The burning desire pounds inside me, wanting to rip off my clothes, his and just…

  I push him away. This can’t be happening. Never in my life have I ever been so turned on by a kiss or by a man—a stranger who’ll probably leave town on Sunday and won’t remember me.

  He looks at me. His eyes burn with the same need pounding inside me. Begging for more than just that kiss.

  “Sorry, I…” He combs his hair with his long fingers. The same ones I want to touch my skin. “I’d be lying if I say I have no idea what took over me, but I do. You’re so beautiful, and when you were in my arms…”

  He releases a loud laugh. “I sound like a crazy man. My brother would have a field day with me. I don’t believe in this”—he points between us—“instant attraction. Yet, here you are proving me wrong.”

  “As flattering as you sound,” —which you do—“I have to go home.”

  “It’ll probably be for the best,” he confirms my suspicions, but his voice isn’t convincing at all.

  Chapter Four

  Iskander

  My internal clock is still adjusting from New York time. I get out of bed at five in the morning after a long restless night. Between the old mattress at the inn and my mind focusing on the pretty waitress at the sports bar, I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour st
raight.

  She was stunning. Dark hair, light blue eyes, and a tempting mouth that I couldn’t resist. Her sultry voice was like an enchanting song that pulled me to her. Last night could’ve been great for both of us, but I let her go.

  I’m only here temporarily. The tug-of-war to have a summer fling while I’m here versus following my rule of never dating a girl from Luna Harbor is forgotten when I go out for a run. There’s a big difference between running close to the Hudson in a city that never sleeps and this quiet town.

  I forgot how peaceful this place is and how breathtakingly beautiful the view is from anywhere you stand. It’s at the base of the Olympic Mountains and has that charming warmth and natural beauty of a small town.

  Once you get in the zone, running is a form of whole-body meditation. My thoughts go places they don’t usually go. It unlocks my imagination and releases the tension of the day or the night before. Running is living. For me, it’s opening myself to the possibilities of something, at least while I’m setting one foot in front of another.

  Today I can see myself settling in this quaint town, having a family, and running the brewery like my abuelo did after his father. Dad skipped the tradition to raise us. The sacrifices my father has made so we can see the world, be whatever we want to be, and try to forget the past don’t go unnoticed. I’m sure a part of him wishes he had stayed and run this town along with his father.

  What’s going to happen if we lose Abuelo to fucking cancer? Is my father going to move back to Luna Harbor or…?

  He lives for us, his family. That’s why he thinks it should be easy for his children to leave everything and move here to help. Family is all that matters.

  “To your right,” I hear a raspy female voice before someone passes me.

  I try to ignore the pretty ass moving in front of me, but fuck, it’s round and gorgeous. Is there something in the water of Luna Harbor that makes women beautiful, sexy, and sassy?

  I speed up and catch up with the woman. I smirk when I realize she’s the same woman I meet last night.

  “Good morning,” I greet her, looking at her from the corner of my eye. “Isn’t it too early to be awake after a long night?”

  She turns her attention at me and smiles. “What are the odds?”

  “Statistically speaking, they’re not that high since this town doesn’t have more than five thousand people,” I answer. “You’re bound to see every person in this town at least twice a week if you base it on a mathematical equation. Based on my small-town experience, you see them at least five times a day, and they know what you had for breakfast as you’re about to step out of your house.”

  She giggles and then places a hand over her mouth. “Why am I giggling? I don’t do that.”

  “Laugh because I said something funny yet true, or run?”

  “Why are you up so early?” She evades my question.

  “I couldn’t sleep. It was this or head to Aunt Mima’s for coffee,” I state.

  “Where?”

  “The coffee place,” I repeat.

  “Oh, that closed a few years back. I only know because the shop is still empty.”

  “So, what do people do for coffee around here?”

  “The bakery has an espresso machine, which is bad because when it breaks, the tourists swear it is the end of the world.” She grins. “So, I take it you've been here before?”

  “Yeah, a couple of times,” I lie. “I’m guessing you’re new in town?”

  “From the post Mima’s shop era. I’ve been here for almost two years,” she explains. “Where are you visiting us from?”

  “Seattle,” I answer.

  It’s not a lie. I was born here, raised in Seattle, and live in New York. She doesn’t need to know all that. I’m guessing her Luna Harbor visa is about to expire. People who aren’t born here don’t stay for long. Ask my mother. She left after my youngest brother was born. This town was too dull, and we were a handful.

  “Why are you out and about so early?” I repeat my question.

  “It’s the best way to destress,” she explains. “I had a hard time falling asleep.”

  I smirk. “Really? What a coincidence, me too. I could think of a few ways to…release some of that, tension.”

  “Listen, you’re hot,” she says without inhibitions, “I’m sure you have moves that will leave me breathless, but—”

  “There’s no but,’ I interrupt her. “You seem like a practical woman. I’m not sure about you, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt attracted to someone the way I do with you. Also, it’s been a while since the last time I had sex. We could do each other a favor. Unless you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me.”

  She stops and laughs. It’s a full-blown belly laugh.

  “Am I entertaining you?”

  “You think I’m afraid of falling in love with you,” she states.

  “There’s no other reason to say no to me, is there?” I cross my arms, giving her a challenging look. “We’re two consenting adults who find each other attractive. I’m not asking you to marry me. You’re not expecting me to stalk you again because I need more.”

  Her eyes light up with a new life. “Are you staying at the inn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she says.

  “Now?”

  She checks her watch. “I have to be home in an hour to get ready for work. This is one-time only, isn’t it?”

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “Unless you want more.”

  She fakes yawning. “You’re smooth but a little rusty.”

  “I’ll show you there’s no rust under the hood, gorgeous,” I joke. “Race you to it.”

  I don’t know who was chasing whom. We arrive at the inn in less than fifteen minutes. I drag her to the third floor and open the door to my room.

  “Do you have condoms?” she asks, taking off her shoes.

  “I’m a good boy scout,” I answer, pulling a square foil out of my wallet.

  “Do we have any rules?”

  “Rules?” I answer as I pull my t-shirt up and throw it to the floor. “What are you talking about? This isn’t BDSM, is it?”

  She laughs, and it’s becoming my favorite sound. It’s such a free, happy sound. “No. I mean…I don’t know what I mean. Maybe something like no kissing, or no names, or…I don’t partake in one-night stands. Though, I want to keep this like one time.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I mean, we don’t have to exchange names. I would like to fuck your mouth with my tongue and, if you want, my cock too.”

  She’s staring at my chest. “Like what you see?” Her needy eyes stare at me. “Let’s see what you have.”

  “Maybe that’s my rule,” she says. “We don’t exchange names, compliments, or flirt. We just do it.”

  “What if I refuse? I want to savor you, tell you how beautiful you are, and how delicious you taste.”

  “No,” she states. “I don’t want it to be that intimate.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Are you regretting this?”

  She sucks on her bottom lip and nods. “Yeah, this isn’t me. I—”

  “What is it?”

  “See, I want to do this. Like all night, I thought about saying fuck it. The next time I won’t back down. I even dreamt of what you could do to me,” she says, her skin turning slightly pink.

  “What did I do to you in your dream?” I dare to ask, taking a step closer to her. She doesn’t move or turn her gaze away as I take a second one. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to imagine everything?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, as her eyes stare at me like the ocean stares at the sun openly and hopeful for a new day.

  “But it does. Maybe you forgot part of it, and you need someone to refresh your memory. First, I kissed you,” I whisper, bending closer to her. “Just like I did last night. Do you want to remember?”

  A shy smile curves her lips. “Maybe.”

  I brush the loose strands away from her face. “I he
sitated at first because what if I’m making you uncomfortable. I waited even as our lips almost touched.”

  “Why did you wait?”

  “I enjoy feeling your heat against mine, your anticipation, the need.” I brush her soft lips with mine. She gasps, opening her mouth just slightly. Her eyes brighten the room.

  I dip my mouth to hers. This is almost as good as running and feeling the air against my body while I imagine that I’m flying against the current and the mundane I life I live. The only difference is I don’t rush. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me, hoping that this kiss is enough to convince her that we could have something beautiful before she has to go to work.

  There’s nothing wrong with creating a perfect moment while you take a break from life. In an hour, we’ll be a memory.

  Desire flows through my veins. I kiss her neck, travel over her bare shoulder, and I undress her slowly. I kiss the trail of freckles running down her arm. She shivers. My fingers explore her. They memorize her.

  “You’re so beautiful.” My voice comes out raw, lustful.

  Maybe we could be a summer fling, I think for a second, but then I erase that thought. It’s a bad idea.

  I press my lips to hers, kissing her tenderly. She’s so soft and small compared to me, and yet, we fit perfectly together. I slide my tongue between her plump lips. She opens for me, letting out a soft moan. I thread my hands through her hair, pulling her closer. I can’t get enough of her. Her hands curl behind my head, clutching me closer. It’s like we’re desperate to become one. Our lips fuse into each other’s, the slow kiss becomes frantic, urgent.

  Suddenly, I’m drunk on her. Her scent, her taste, her moans. I’m high on her. She’s all I want, all I’ll ever need. My hands begin to move down her body, finding the waistband of her shorts so I can push them down. I grow harder as I realize she’s not wearing underwear.

  One hand travels back to her tight ass. I move my other hand up her thigh. Her breath catches as I almost touch her pussy. I bend closer to her, running my lips down her sternum and toward her beautiful globes, licking one of her dark pink nipples and sucking on it. She moans, her back arching as she grabs the back of my head.

 

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