by King, Asha
“This is why we moved around when I was a kid,” Bryar said. Her lips were trembling and she clamped her mouth shut, tried to stop it.
Merry nodded. “This town seemed safe, though. We kept you offline. Kept ourselves offline. Stayed far from anywhere The Dragon might have influence.”
“But I was a baby. And I assume you’ve changed our names, how would she...?”
“Our photos are out there now too,” Donna said quietly. “The Dragon hasn’t been heard from in two decades but this morning we received a call. From your father, my brother. He found us. It took just days of this going viral, he saw our photos, and he knew. She’ll know as well. We have to run.”
Jesus Christ. Bryar just stared at the both of them, completely unable to think of what to say. Oh hi, Bryar, you are actually a mob daughter! And someone wants to kill you! And we didn’t warn you, because reasons. Now you have to leave town. And, fuck, maybe the country.
“I don’t believe this,” Bryar mumbled.
“We can’t risk—”
“I’m twenty-two years old,” Bryar said. “And I’m supposed to just drop everything and go God knows where? For how long? Forever? Just run and hide until this dragon lady dies or something?” She stood abruptly, dumped the items from her lap onto the couch, and paced across the living room, raking her hands through her hair as she went. “I don’t believe this. I don’t fucking believe this.”
“It’s for your safety, Bryar—”
“So what, we get fake names? Like witness protection only without the protection part? Flee to the other side of the country? Again, for how long?”
“For as long as it takes to keep you safe!” Donna snapped.
Bryar stopped pacing and stared at her aunt.
She understood, then, all of the worry, the strict rules, the discipline. Understood what her aunts had been living with all these years.
But she didn’t understand how they couldn’t tell her.
She didn’t understand why she was never warned, why they waited until their hand was forced before speaking up. If they wanted her to have a normal life, well, even without this knowledge, she hadn’t. And now? Now everything she did have, everything she liked, was about to be taken away again.
“No,” she said sharply.
Aunt Donna blinked up at her. “What?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not getting kicked out of my home because some bitch with a hard-on for vengeance against a kid who didn’t do anything wants me dead. You don’t even know if she’s still alive. This could all be for nothing.”
“Your parents would’ve come for you if it was safe—” Merry began.
“How am I supposed to believe that? They’re criminals who foisted me off on relatives and let me think they were dead my whole life. So, uh, no—fuck that. I’m not leaving.”
“For once in your goddamn life, Bryar, would you just listen to reason?” Donna pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. “We can’t bear if something happened to you. Please, this is the only way.”
Hell no, it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure exactly what the other way was, but she wasn’t running, and she wasn’t cowering. At least not at that moment. She couldn’t just go poof and disappear, her life in Midsummer completely gone. If she was leaving town, it would be as she’d always planned it: on her terms. Not on someone else’s.
Instead she said nothing, reaching for her purse and stomping for the back door.
“Bryar,” her aunts called in unison.
“You can run if you want,” Bryar returned angrily. “Go ahead. Leave. But I need time. You can’t just dump this shit on me and expect me to happily jump just ’cause you say.” And with that she stormed out the door and let it slam behind her.
Chapter Ten
Bryar was at his front gate again.
Sawyer waited inside while Scott went to escort her in—it seemed safer than just randomly opening the gate and seeing who slipped through with her—and he paced back and forth by the door while he waited. Valerie said nothing, seated still at the breakfast bar in the kitchen were they’d been eating dinner. He could already guess what she’d say and really didn’t want to hear it.
The front door opened and Sawyer stopped pacing. Bryar stepped in first and then Scott, who locked the door and keyed in all the alarm codes. He gave Bryar a brief, friendly smile, then his gaze moved pointedly to Sawyer before he exited the foyer for the kitchen.
Sawyer stared down at her for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
“I was going to apologize for barging in again, blah blah, but honestly...” Her eyes swept up to his. “Can you just get me drunk?”
“That I can definitely do.” He slid his arm over her shoulder and pulled her through the house, down the steps to the den. Scott and Val wouldn’t disturb them and they had the entertainment system in the living room to keep them occupied.
He flipped the den lights on, low as he had the night before, and immediately went for the bar while she stripped off her coat and shoes and dumped her purse on the couch. She wandered over to the glass patio door. “Have you run the hot tub yet?”
He poured two glasses of whiskey, filling them nearly to the brim. “Val and Scott did the first night. Want to go for a dip?” He brought her the drink and she immediately took a long sip of it.
“I was going to say if it’s not too much trouble, but I don’t care if it’s trouble—yes, yes I would like to sit in your hot tub and drink more alcohol.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He still wasn’t sure what was going on but he had to respect a woman on a mission, and he was not opposed to the idea.
He directed her to the stereo with instructions to find music she liked—which she snorted at, but didn’t argue—while he moved the cover off the hot tub. For a moment he sent a worried look at the property behind, but there was no sign of anyone, and the lattice-work fence around much of the back deck kept the tub mostly from view. The lights outside were turned down low, the interior of the hot tub glowing blue from lights near the jets. Sawyer stripped down to his boxer’s and stepped into the hot water, which immediately chased away the cool fall air. Steam rose, dampening his exposed skin as he sank down low.
Speakers from the sound system inside were set into the house’s exterior by the door, and soon the low sound of a synthesizer kicked up followed by drums and guitar. Bryar came sauntering out to “In a Gadda Da Vida”, her hips swaying seductively and lips wrapped around the rim of the glass she was polishing off. She set the empty glass down, hips still moving, and peeled down her slacks and panties, then her button down shirt and bra. Soon she was standing completely naked before him and not seeming to care much about it.
Sawyer took a deep breath and leaned back against the side of the tub, his arms stretched out on either side of him and hands in fists, cock growing harder by the second. She was in her own little world, moving seductively but oblivious to what she was doing to him as she climbed into the hot tub.
She let out a long moan of pleasure as she sank into the water’s hot depths, eyes closing and head tipping back—the sound and movement almost seemed orgasmic, and Sawyer’s heart thumped hard as he watched her. Much of her body was obscured by the bubbling water now that crept up to her throat, the outline of her breasts barely visible. Her legs stretched out, brushing his.
“It was not a good night,” she said softly.
“Well, mine’s at least improving.”
The comment was a risky one considering something was up, the anger hanging on her barely by a thread. But instead she grinned at him, her eyes opening and landing on his. He watched for any sign that the alcohol had hit her too hard but it hadn’t—she was lucid.
And sexy as hell.
Her back arched, the dark points of her nipples poking through the water’s surface. “Would you believe I’m the daughter of mobsters?”
Jesus, was she high too? “What?”
“Exactly what I said.” She slumped back down in the water wi
th a sigh. “But it’s true. I think. My aunts could be lying—maybe we could google them later. Anyway, they killed a rival’s son, like twenty years ago, so I was stolen away like in some lame thriller movie and raised in secret, and now here we are, with my face and name all over the internet, and apparently The Dragon is coming to get me.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Christ. The Dragon. This is so fucking ridiculous, I can’t believe this is my life.”
Sawyer stared at her, unsure of what to say. She didn’t sound like she was kidding. And there was a brittle frailness to this laughing facade that seemed ready to crack at any second.
“Bryar...”
She met his eyes then, her irises dark and sad, full of warning and tears about to spill. “Not right now. I can’t right now—I’m just so freaked out. I can’t talk right now, Sawyer.”
“What do you want?”
Her leg brushed his again, intentionally this time. “You.”
He sucked in a breath as she shifted and surged forward in the water, her long black curls trailing behind her. She moved immediately between his legs, her hands running from his shins to his knees, his thighs. He held his breath and waited, followed her lead as she drew herself up close, pressed her chest to his, and kissed him hard.
Bryar worked his boxers down and off, dropping them over the edge of the hot tub to disappear on the deck, then once again settled between his legs. One hand boldly gripped his cock under the water and he gasped, fighting to remain steady as she began to stroke him. Each touch was bold, purposeful, and he knew for at least the next little while, he was entirely at her mercy. She sat back on her heels, the water lapping at her breasts. He desperately wanted to touch her, to take control, to feel her shudder and moan under his palms.
“I want to taste you,” she said in a low, seductive voice, giving his cock a squeeze.
He eased up without a word, water rolling down his stomach and thighs, and perched on the edge of the tub, watching as she moved forward with her gaze locked on his dick. Her splayed hands moved up his legs, gripping him, and head tilted forward. He gasped the moment her lips brushed the dome of his cock, mouth opening to take him inside.
“Jesus, Bryar,” he growled, gripping the tub on either side of him and bracing as she slid her mouth up and down.
Her eyes lifted, their depths dark and dangerous. Her tongue moved along the underside of his erection, sweeping along in its own rhythm as her head bobbed. Each descent took him a bit deeper into her mouth, brought him that much more pleasure.
“Tell me how good it feels,” she rasped before descending on him again.
“Fuck, your mouth feels good.” A ragged moan escaped him when she reached up to cup his sac, rolling his testes gently.
Christ, he was going to burst and it had been just minutes, but the sight of her between his thighs, watching him as she sucked him off, was almost too much to bear. His hips thrust up, fucking her mouth just as much as she was sucking him, and she moaned. The vibration of the sound rushed through him as well and pleasure built, gathering and gathering.
She pulled back, his length popping free of her mouth, and gripped him with both hands now, fists moving in a blur up and down his cock. At last he reached for her with one hand, fingers raking over her hair, cupping her jaw, thumb running over her thickened lips. She took the tip of his thumb in her mouth, tongue swirling over the pad of it, and a growl sounded from his throat. Faster and faster her hands moved until he was seconds away from warning her that he was about to come.
All at once she stopped, releasing him.
Bryar chuckled at the small frown that darkened his expression then moved closer, reaching down to grasp her breasts and raise them. “Not done yet—I’ve still got plans for you.”
“Getting me back for that first time?”
“That’s right.” She still held her breasts, firm handfuls he longed to touch, and she pressed right up against him.
“Oh, shit,” he mumbled as she wrapped them around his dick. He glided easily between her breasts, the warm water slicking them both. He couldn’t look away, just watched the thick head of his cock move up and down between her dark tits, the heavy globes of them warm and silken. Every few thrusts, she dipped her head down to kiss the tip of him, her tongue snaking out to lick pre-come from the slit.
“Bryar,” he gasped, panting hard, his heart hammering in his chest. The last vestiges of control were leaving him. “Bryar, I’m gonna come.”
She didn’t back off but moved harder, faster, fucking his cock between her breasts, capturing him in her mouth on the upstroke. “Then come for me. Come on my tits.”
The sight of her, the touch of her, everything she said—all of it was too much. He gripped the edge of the hot tub hard and came with a cry, his entire body jolting with the orgasm. He spilled across her breasts in three long arcs, emptying himself until the climax crested and he collapsed back in the water.
“Fuck.” He swiped damp hair off his forehead, blurry vision sharpening on her again at last. She held his gaze, massaging his seed into her breasts, and his cock twitched at the sight despite being sated moments ago.
He could go a couple rounds in a night, had before, but never recovered that quickly—just watching her touch herself, though, made him suspect he might this time.
Her skin glistened with his come and the water, her long slender fingers moving to tweak her nipples. She moved back in the water until her spine hit the wall of the hot tub, then she settled there and sighed deeply. “I think there are still condoms in my purse inside. Get one when you’re ready.”
“And what are you going to do in the meantime?”
She smiled wickedly. “Make you hard again, of course.”
****
Though the whiskey was buzzing through her system, she wasn’t drunk. Not on alcohol, at least. Desire, yes—she needed to come, her entire body throbbing with want. And thankfully all of it had driven from her head everything she didn’t want to think about, including the reason she’d shown up that night in the first place.
She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the feel of the hot water clutching her body, the jets pulsing against her back. One of her hands drifted down from her breast to touch between her legs, running up and down her needy pussy. She heard Sawyer come through the door again and his steps paused—he must be watching her.
Bryar smiled without opening her eyes, spreading her thighs and thrusting one finger inside herself. “Mmm, I’ll finish without you if you’re just going to watch.”
He sucked in a noisy, ragged breath, and if he wasn’t hard again yet, she suspected he would be soon. The deck creaked again as he resumed walking and a moment later the water shifted, displacing as he climbed in the tub. “Let’s compromise. I’ll finish you, but I still get to watch in the meantime.”
She cracked her eyes open, still trailing her fingers through her own wetness. His gaze was locked there, watching what she was doing despite water obscuring the details.
“Sit on the edge,” he commanded, his voice deep with want.
Bryar didn’t argue, gliding up, out of the water. His eyes trailed her movement as water rushed over her flushed skin, and she felt her nipples pebble the moment the air hit them. She shivered and did as instructed, sitting on the edge of the tub, her legs still submerged nearly to her knees.
Sawyer leaned back against the opposite wall of the tub and met her eyes in challenge. “Spread your legs.”
Despite her experience and wanton display thus far, she’d never been told what to do before other than with him—never had a man with such heat in his eyes say such a thing and not sound completely ridiculous. Instead his voice teased her arousal all the more.
She parted her knees more, spreading wide for him and bracing her hands on either side of her for support. She even tilted her hips slightly to give him a better view of her pussy.
Tension worked through him but he remained in place. “Touch yourself. Slide your fingers
in your pussy for me.”
Slowly she drew one her hands down, gliding slowly, over the valley of her breasts to her stomach, then her mound, until finally she reached her clit. She let her fingers brush it gently, her body jumping with the contact, then she eased her index finger into her channel, pushing it as far as it would go.
Her hips moved in slow circles as she touched herself and her eyes met his, showing him her pleasure, telling him how much she wanted him. Sawyer’s eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with arousal, his lips parted slightly as he breathed heavily. His gaze went from hers to her hand again, and his hands balled into fists. She knew he wanted her, knew it was driving him wild, and it just made her all the more bold.
With a low growl, he surged toward her in one swift movement, warm water splashing her lower legs. He gripped her knees, foil condom packet still clutched between two of his fingers, and lowered his face to the juncture between her thighs. His tongue raked up her clit, sending pleasure coursing through her with frightening intensity until she couldn’t stave off her impending climax. She mumbled his name, cried out her release, and came completely undone as he drew her clit into his warm, welcoming mouth.
Bryar panted hard, struggling to come back to herself as bliss weighted her limbs and made her sleepy. But Sawyer was ready for more now, working the condom onto his full erect shaft and then grasping her hips. He pulled her down while thrusting up to meet her, burying his cock in her still-tingling pussy. She slid partially into the hot water, jets beating at her thighs and back, and grabbed the sides of the tub for leverage. Every thrust made her breasts bounce, splashed water across them both.
“So perfect,” he mumbled. “So fucking perfect.” His heated gaze swept over her.
She’d never thought of anything about her being perfect, unless it was “perfectly screwed up”, but she didn’t argue, just relished in the feeling of him looking at her like she was the only person who existed. His hands molded on her hips, keeping her in place as he thrust harder and faster. Steam wafted from his powerful shoulders and his sculpted chest glistened with sweat and water, highlighted by the blue lights of the hot tub. She had but one brief, fleeting thought of being outside, that more than the moonlight could be watching them, but the fences and hills were high, and at the moment she didn’t care if there was a more graphic sex tape of her out there. All of it would be worth it with the total, complete pleasure she was felt in that moment.