The Palisade (Lavender Shores)

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The Palisade (Lavender Shores) Page 2

by Rosalind Abel


  I glanced back at my phone, at the blond. Stunning. Really.

  Suddenly I didn’t care.

  Maybe it was the third glass of gin. Maybe it was Blue Eyes. Maybe it was my father issues laid out on the bar for the entire world to see. Whatever it was worked better than a cold shower.

  I closed the app, returned the cell to my pocket, and refocused on my martini glass. Finish this up and then go to your room. There was always work to do. The weeks leading up to this trip had been crazy, but still, I never jumped into a project without ample research. Dad had a twenty-five-page memo prepared on all things Lavender Shores. If there ever was a time to be unprepared, it wasn’t on my father’s new pet project.

  “Hey.”

  I flinched at the voice by my shoulder, causing some of the gin to slosh out.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I looked over and lost my voice. Bright blue eyes met mine. They seemed nervous.

  He’d come back!

  He hesitated, glancing from me to the high-backed barstool beside me, then toward the door. “I… uhm…”

  “You came back!” Oh my God, I sounded like a twelve-year-old who’d just gotten a puppy. Not a thirty-five-year-old professional.

  A smile began to form, still nervous, but looking hopeful. “Yeah. I, uhm, thought we had a moment a while ago.”

  I took a heartbeat to return my tone to normal. No one wanted to be with Mr. Desperate, no matter how many heated looks they’d exchanged. Wait. Desperate? Was I feeling desperate for him? That was ridiculous. The bartender’s claims of me needing a power bottom and a hungry hole to use came back to me. Yes, that was exactly what I needed. Just like that, Joel Rhodes was back in control. “Oh, we did. Several moments, if I recall. I think one of them nearly caught the room on fire.” I flashed my smile. The one that worked on everyone—client, enemy, potential lay.

  He blushed but grew confident enough to take a seat. My fucking God, he was even more beautiful up close. Not mid-twenties like I’d assumed. Maybe twenty-nine, thirty? Much more my style. Dark hair, thick dark brows over those stunning blue eyes. Full lips curved into a crooked smile over gleaming white teeth. Clean-shaven jaw. My gaze got stuck on the slope of his clavicle showing in the open neck of his dress shirt. His body appeared lean and muscled under the fabric, like an Abercrombie & Fitch model from two decades ago had stepped out of their catalog and asked to come to my bedroom. If I were willing to take the time to go up to the bedroom. Why not make full use of the wide bar top?

  “I’m glad you’re still here.”

  His voice brought me back from visualizing all the things I was going to do to him. I needed to focus, make sure I didn’t mess up what was obviously a fairly certain thing. “Me too. I thought you’d be back quite a while ago.”

  That blush again. “You knew I’d come back?”

  “Like I said, we had some moments.” I nearly stopped there, but I needed to know. Although, the other guy had been on the hookup app minutes ago, so even if they were husbands, they clearly had an arrangement. I glanced at his left hand. No ring, not that its absence proved anything. “I thought maybe you and your… partner went home.”

  “My… Oh!” He chuckled. “No. That was my family. Tonight was my brother’s birthday.”

  Done. We have a winner. God, please let this gorgeous man be the hungry hole I need. Despite the blush and the nerves that made him seem younger, something in those eyes promised he was just as ravenous as I was.

  He kept talking. “My sister is part owner of the place, so I waited until she left. The last thing I want is Heather giving me a hard time about hooking up—” His eyes widened, and he stopped talking.

  I nearly laughed. Beautiful and adorably awkward. And hungry. Oh yeah. Screw being prepared for tomorrow. I’d wing it. Tonight was going to be one for the record books. I wouldn’t even need to finish my drink. I could get up and walk to my room, and this guy would follow.

  “Well, Andrew Kelly. Wonder why you came back?” Seth lightly smacked the bar top. “I know it wasn’t for the free drinks.”

  For the first time that night, Seth’s charmer routine threatened to get him punched in the face. I was just about to close this deal.

  The man… Andrew, it seemed, demonstrated what blushing actually looked like. “Seth, please keep your mouth shut to Heather. I don’t need a lecture—”

  “On one condition.” Seth grinned and glanced at both of us. “I’ll require a video or a verbal play-by-play, complete with illustrations tomorrow night.” He winked. “Just kidding, kid.” He looked at me. “I’m assuming you’re not going to waste time on more drinks. Want me to keep the tab open for the rest of your stay?”

  Just like that, he redeemed himself. “That would be perfect. Thank you, Seth.”

  He nodded, gave another wink, this time to Andrew, and then walked away.

  We sat there silently for a second. Then I stuck out my hand. “I take it you’re Andrew?”

  “Yes, Andrew Kelly.” He looked like he was about to say something else; instead, he slipped his hand into mine and quit talking.

  I couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t lightning or stars, but a chill coursed through my body at his touch—if chills could be like fire rushing through your veins. Hands still grasped, our gazes locked. More fire. I had to remind myself of who I was, why I was in Lavender Shores, and what the next few hours with this man were going to be about. I squeezed his hand and let my thumb make a path over the back. “Nice to meet you. Very. I’m Joel Rhodes.”

  “Joel.” His voice was so quiet I doubted he’d even realized he’d spoken my name out loud. At the sound, thoughts of who I was and why I was there vanished, as well as my ability to think of anything beyond this moment. He smiled at me. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  Simple words. Said by every person who’d ever shaken hands during a first meeting. Words I’d just said seconds ago. But the way he said them… Like it was a relief. Like he’d been waiting. Waiting for me.

  I was fucking losing my mind.

  With a force of will, I released my grip and pulled my hand away.

  What to say, what to say…

  I had this down. This was nothing new. I’d done it countless times. The steps between handshakes and the bedroom. Ask about the weather. About his job. Buy him a drink. Flirt a bit more to make sure.

  But I was sure.

  Hell, the entire room was sure. Probably the whole population of Lavender Shores could feel this moment.

  All those steps I knew like the back of my hand sounded like torture. Pure torture.

  I licked my lips, strangely nervous, and met his eyes again. “Will you come up to my room with me, Andrew Kelly?”

  He let out a trembling breath and nodded.

  Three

  Andrew

  We left the dining room, passed the small front desk, and as we rounded the stairs, Joel took my hand as if he was going to lead me up to his room—or was afraid I’d flee. His fingers barely touched mine before he dropped my hand, not saying anything.

  Such a little thing. A small gesture that could have a billion different meanings. Or none at all. For some reason, in that heartbeat of contact, I swore I felt just a bit of his need. A moment of being desperate for connection.

  I shook it off. One more reason Lamont said I should’ve been the writer. I was the one with a romantic’s heart, not him.

  I was probably wrong on this part too, but I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of confusion, maybe panic, cross Joel’s face right before he dropped my hand, but he turned around too quickly to be certain. When he spoke, his voice was clear, free of nerves, even free of the heat that had been present in the bar. Maybe that was it. Maybe he’d already changed his mind and wished Seth or someone else was following him to his room.

  “I’ve never been in an old Victorian where the stairs don’t squeak with every step. Not to mention one that has air-conditioning.”

  I tried to keep all
insecurity out of my tone. “Oh, this house is a reproduction. It’s not an authentic Victorian. It was designed to the nth degree to look like one, and most of the furnishings are real.”

  He paused, looking back at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah. It wouldn’t even be possible for this to be an actual Victorian. Lavender Shores wasn’t founded until 1943.”

  “The entire place feels like I’m stepping back in time.” He sounded tense. About architecture?

  “Well, the majority of the place is craftsman and cottage style, so those were genuine to the area, kinda.” We’d started moving again, but I halted midway up the second flight. Something was off. “Joel, if you don’t want to do this…” I should have kept my mouth shut. How often did I get the chance to be naked with a man like this, whether he was really into it or not? Fuck, Kelly, pathetic much?

  He paused and looked back at me again, all the heat and desire from before gone, replaced with what looked like… stress?

  “There’s no pressure.”

  He shook his head as if trying to clear it and moved down beside me on the stairs. “Sorry. No. I’m here for business. I’m supposed to already know Lavender Shores like the back of my hand. It’s not like me to be so unprepared, and you just highlighted what a shit job I’m doing.” He reached out, took my hand, and this time didn’t let go. His green gaze leveled on me. “I want to do this. Trust me. If I’m not going to be prepared for work, I can’t think of a better reason than you.”

  He meant it. Though I could still see the strain in the squint of his eyes, the desire was back. As much as I just wanted him to fuck me, I wanted to make that expression disappear. Smooth away whatever stress caused his brow to knit and his lips tighten. Hear him sigh in relief and comfort.

  Holy shit; that was not the point of a hookup. Not unless all those things could be cured by multiple orgasms.

  Nevertheless, I wanted it. “Well, then, I’m your guy. I’m from one of the founding families. There’s not one bit of Lavender Shores trivia I can’t give you.” It took every ounce of willpower I had not to lift my free hand and caress the strain at his temples. “What kind of work do you do?”

  “Oh, I’m with—” Joel shook his head again and barked out a laugh. “Oh my God. I’m standing on the stairs with the hottest man I’ve seen in ages, and I’m worried about work. Now, you’re offering to give me town trivia.” Another shake and he stepped closer. “No. Absolutely not.” He was the one to lift his free hand and place it behind my neck to pull me to his lips.

  No stress there. No sweetness either. It was a demand. A kiss of claiming, even if just for the night. A kiss that tasted of juniper and tang. A kiss that crushed his lips to mine and had him stepping in closer until my back was against the wall. I could feel every tight curve of his body beneath his suit. Feel the hardness of his erection press against my hip. He broke the kiss with a slight lick of his tongue and rocked his straining cock against me before stepping away.

  “No more work talk. Hell, no more talking at all.” There wasn’t an ounce of playfulness or hesitancy in his expression. “Okay with you?”

  I nodded. It was all I could manage.

  “Good.” He motioned up the stairs. “I’m at the top.”

  Of course he was. The best room in the house.

  We didn’t run up the stairs, but my heart pounded as if we had, and my erection made it uncomfortable to move at our quickened pace.

  I had about three seconds to pause and linger in anticipation as Joel used the old-fashioned key to unlock the door. Then we stepped inside, and he closed the door but didn’t take the time to lock it. Joel’s hand returned to my neck, his lips on mine, and this time there was a breath of tenderness as his lower lip grazed mine. Despite my effort to be cool, I sighed, and I probably would’ve gone weak in the knees if he hadn’t had me pressed against a wall. Joel nipped my lip, causing me to suck in a breath, and his tongue instantly darted out to soothe and caress. He dug his fingers into the back of my neck as he moved his other hand over my body. He groaned as he palmed my chest muscles and then slid down my stomach and around to squeeze my ass. Another groan as he leaned back slightly to look at me, his pupils huge, nearly obliterating the green. “Take off your clothes.”

  I’d do anything he told me.

  He released my neck and stepped back. Then another step, until he was a yard away, close to the edge of the massive oak canopy bed. “Go ahead. Let me see you.”

  Holy shit. I hadn’t even been able to get my hands to move to touch the man. He had me frozen. With a supreme force of will, I followed his direction and started on my belt.

  “No. Your shirt.”

  I looked over at him, hesitating. Feeling every bit on display, I heard a whisper of caution from somewhere beneath my desire.

  “Please, Andrew. Start with your shirt.” The tip of his tongue licked his bottom lip, and his chest was heaving behind the expensive fabric. His erection was visible through the gap of his suit jacket, straining his fitted pants. He didn’t touch it. “Please, let me see you.”

  Caution vanished. Joel was practically trembling with need for me. Maybe just the need to dominate a bit. But the please. Maybe not dominate too much. I started to unbutton my shirt. I was on the third one when he spoke again. “Slower. Please.”

  I slowed, not doing a strip tease by any means, feeling way too insecure for that. I was good-looking—I’m not one for false modesty—but I was nothing compared to him. And even mostly clothed, I felt completely exposed. I couldn’t decide if I liked the sensation or not. I took my time with the remaining few buttons and then slowly pulled the shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. As it slid to the floor, Joel let out a shuddering breath, and his gaze wandered over my skin. Like in the dining room earlier, I could feel it as surely as if his hands were on me. Felt him skim over the muscles of my chest, pausing on the tattoo over my heart, and then moving to my six-pack and down my treasure trail to settle on the bulge in my pants. It seemed my body liked whatever this was, even if my mind wasn’t sure.

  He let out another shuddering breath, and then he lifted his gaze to mine, his voice almost reverent. “My God, Andrew. You are beautiful.”

  My eyes stung, sudden and fierce. I blinked them furiously, praying he didn’t notice. What the actual fuck? Seriously? I’d been called beautiful countless times, but never like that. Not once.

  Joel took slow steps toward me, lifting his hands as he walked, pausing less than an inch from my skin, his gaze flicking back to mine. “May I touch you?”

  “God, y-yes.” My voice broke, and when his hands made contact with my skin, I couldn’t help but cry out. I’d been wrong. His gaze on me had been nothing compared to his actual touch. Every cell buzzed and tingled; my skin felt electric. It radiated through my blood, through my body. He caressed over my pecs, slowly following the pattern of hair that made a T-shape over my chest and down my stomach, and I swear to God, I was afraid of shooting in my pants. Which had never happened, not even when I was a teenager and such things were supposed to happen in the middle of math class because the hot quarterback walked by.

  I expected him to step back again, command me to take off another article of clothing. Instead, he lifted his gaze to mine once more, and his hands worked at my belt, moving much quicker than he’d allowed me to remove my shirt. I tried to read whatever was pouring out of his dark green eyes. They held so much emotion it was almost scary. Lust to be sure, but other things too. Things I couldn’t name. Joel paused once the belt was gone, and then he gripped the button of my pants. Maybe he was waiting for me to protest. I wasn’t going to.

  Finally, he looked down. He unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, slid them over my ass, and then knelt on one knee as he held them at my feet, allowing me to step free. Then he did the same with my shoes and socks. He never spoke. He just moved, and my body responded. What would’ve been awkward and weird with anyone else was one of the hottest moments of my life, and I wasn’t even completely
naked yet.

  Joel ran his hands up my thighs, the friction on my leg hair increasing the buzzing sensation over my skin. His fingers stopped at the edge of my underwear, and he chuckled. “I had you pegged for a boxer kind of guy. Maybe a boxer-brief. But tighty-whities? That are actually white?”

  “Uhm, s-sorry.” Shit.

  Another chuckle, and this time I could hear the heat. “No, they’re perfect.” He lifted his right hand and ran his thumb over the tip of my erection and down the shaft. “Especially as wet as they are. Almost see-through.” He ran his thumb over my cock again, making me shudder, and then he looked up as he raised his thumb and stuck it in his mouth.

  We both groaned at the same time.

  He pulled his thumb free, returned his attention to my briefs, and pulled them off.

  I had to be dreaming or something. It was too good, too amazing. He was too amazing. Too beautiful. Not to mention the way he touched me, the way he looked at me. Like I was, I don’t know… like I was as beautiful to him as he was to me. It didn’t even make sense.

  “Holy fuck.” Joel laughed again, though without an ounce of humor. “Dude. That cock.”

  Then I laughed too, though even I could hear my nerves. “Shut up.”

  He grinned up at me. “Well, seriously. Damn.” He was at eye level with my dick, and he stared at it once more, leaning close, his breath warm against my tender skin, causing my erection to twitch. Enough that it bumped against his lip.

  I shivered. “Touch me. Please.” I hadn’t meant to say that.

  Joel didn’t. At least not with his hands. He took a deep breath and enclosed my dick with his mouth.

  I sucked in a breath, and then he sank over my cock, making me cry out.

 

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