Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1)

by Sierra Kummings

  Sara’s nerves disappeared a little bit at a time with every step he took. When he came close enough she could see him completely, she forgot why she’d had them in the first place. His suit jacket and tie had been removed at some point earlier, and he stood in front of her with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist. “I thought you might be hungry.” Lord knew she was. Her body wanted more than the fried chicken now.

  He echoed her thoughts. “I’m always hungry for you.” He brought his hand to the back of her neck, warming her skin and tangling in her hair as his lips crushed against hers. His kiss left little doubt that she belonged right where she was. “Ready to come inside?”

  How could she not be after a welcoming like that?

  Sara nodded and he led the way, holding her hand in his until he stepped aside to allow her to enter through the glass door first.

  Breathtaking décor greeted her.

  Exposed wood support beams on the ceiling provided a stark contrast to the opaque tile floors. In between them, a pale sand-colored wash coated the ivory paint on the walls except for where two huge water colors of the ocean hung off to the left of the staircase. A small table separated the artwork, acting as a pedestal for the vase centered on its surface.

  Jacob pulled her close again. “I’ve missed you.” Soft kisses trailed along her hairline before he tucked her head beneath his chin for a brief hug and asked if she wanted a tour?” At her nod, he left an arm around her shoulders and led them to the left and down the walkway sheltered by glass. About twenty feet in, the glass walls of the walkway disappeared and two rooms to the right and three to the left spread throughout the rest of the long hallway.

  “What do you do with all this space?” Sara asked.

  He pointed to each room he named. “Office, home theater, sitting room, guest room, library of sorts.” His stomach rumbled, interrupting him. He looked at the bag of food she still carried, then shrugged. “But mostly they all just go to waste. I would’ve been content with a one room shack if it came with this view. Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

  “It’s an amazing house, Jacob, really, and I’m sure the rest of it is equally beautiful, but your house isn’t what I came to see. You’re hungry. Let’s go eat.”

  As if surprised, he stood still for a moment, then without warning he pulled her, practically running, into the room closest to them, depositing her and the food onto a couch.

  She giggled as he attacked the food like a starving man and spoke around a mouth full of potatoes. “Perfect.”

  Yes. You are. She sighed and dug into her own container, savoring the fried chicken she loved. Once they both slowed down, she asked, “How was your day?” The shudder that passed through him shook the couch.

  “Let’s just say I spent the majority of it wishing yet again we were still working on the fundraiser together.”

  “Me too.” Sara missed watching the joy on people’s faces that happened when a community came together.

  “Why don’t you…?” Jacob eyed her curiously before shaking his head at some internal thought. “How’s Tessa doing?”

  “She’s great. She’s as mischievous as ever. We danced and partied for most of last night.” Sara relaxed against the cushions, taking in the room that looked so different than what she’d seen of the rest of his house. Three ceiling-high black bookshelves and an enormous TV, at least seventy inches long, were the only items against the white inner walls.

  The modern and minimalistic style almost appealed to her more than the classic elegance of the entryway, but nothing appealed to her more than Jacob when he stretched an arm against the back of the seat, twining the ends of her hair around his finger. “When do I get to see your room?” She pressed her body into his before standing. “Are you ready for me, sexy?”

  For a second, fear filled his eyes.

  Was she wrong to push things? He’d been careful to only stay a few hours at a time in her apartment since their first night together, but it’d been his choice for her to spend this weekend at his place.

  She took a risk and pulled the stretchy bodice of her sundress down until her breasts sprung free. Don’t be scared, baby. Not with me. Let me be what you need.

  His gaze darkened in warning. “You’re playing with fire, cariño.”

  So he kept saying. But she didn’t think so. “Then you’d better prepare to get burned.” Her dress pooled at her feet. When he stood, she kicked off her flip flops, but shook her head at him. “Uh-uh, mister. I’m in charge, remember? You can’t touch me until I say. And I won’t until I’m in the middle of your bed.”

  He stayed in place, waiting for her next move. No trace of fear remained, though his attempt at control was visible. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and the telltale vein above his eye began to throb.

  “Which way to your room?”

  Jacob hesitated, then angled his head to the left after he only managed an incoherent growl.

  “Follow me, then.” She disappeared out the door, walking backwards, bouncing for his enjoyment with every step. Eventually she hoped they reached the point where they could talk through his fear, but for now she’d be content with the option that worked. How could she find fault with it when that option meant she’d have him inside her?

  Having sex with him had fast become her favorite hobby.

  Jacob kept pace with her footsteps, his hands clenched by his side.

  As she moved up the wide winding staircase on the right, she continued teasing him, walking backwards so he saw every sway to her breasts. Once at the landing, she stopped, casting a glance behind her. Several closed doorways marked both sides, but only one on the left stood open. She sprinted down the hallway, his feet pounding the same pace on the hardwood floor as hers, until she crossed the threshold. His breath warmed against her neck as she slowed.

  Thanks to the light of the moon and the sheer glass that made up the entire far wall, she could just make out the staggering cliffs jutting out from beneath his house—the glass giving off the illusion that she could step directly off the floor into the empty air beyond.

  But that wasn’t what held her attention.

  In the center of the room, raised on a two-foot platform, stood the biggest bed she’d ever seen. The comforter was a blue she imagined rivaled the Caribbean ocean, and the only source of color in the room, save whatever the outside view would be in daylight. She met his gaze in challenge when he stepped up beside her. “Strip.”

  Doing as she demanded, he stalked her as he undressed, advancing as she backed into the room. Only when the steps to the platform grazed the backs of her legs did she remove her panties, then she climbed to the center of the bed. She waited for him to come to her, but he didn't move right away. Instead, he stayed in the same spot while his gaze traveled up and down her body. “Touch me, Jacob.”

  At her command, he donned a condom and joined her, his body covering hers in a full caress. And how heady was that? That a strong, muscular man who’d protected their nation obeyed her. She guided his cock into her, telling him with her hands what she wanted from him. The tempo started out slow with his mouth on her breasts before he moved onto her neck, all while he stroked deep inside her. Yes, just like that.

  She rose up to meet his thrusts, tightening around his shaft as she lowered back down to the bed each time he withdrew.

  He followed her lead until she cried out. Then he cupped her ass and canted his hips. Somehow he knew her wants and desires even when she was incapable of expressing them. With that angle, he managed to rub her clit and hit the spot inside her that drove her wild.

  She should’ve protested, given this night was supposed to have been about her calling the shots, but how could she when he brought her this close to Heaven?

  Reveling in his mastery, she held on tight, incapable of doing anything else once she started freefalling.

  Sara raised her head and blinked at the green flashing lights on the bedside clock.

  9:30? Jacob must’ve woke
n up hours ago. She curled on her side, hugging the sheet.

  Outside, directly in her line of vision, white, fluffy clouds drifted across the sky, the sun having long since lit the horizon. Enjoying the decadence of waking up to such a sight, Sara stretched her arms above her head and flipped onto her back with a giggle.

  A quick snort from beside her scared her within an inch of her life. She jumped, getting her body twisted in the sheets before coming face-to-face with Jacob. Somehow, that pleased her more than the view. He was still there. With her.

  He rustled, but didn’t open his eyes.

  As quietly as she could, she slipped from the bed and retrieved the bag he’d brought up from her car after their second round of sex. Instead of rummaging through it, she took the whole thing into the adjoining bathroom.

  The entire space was bigger than her own bathroom, kitchen, and living room put together, and the glass wall from his bedroom extended into it as well. The separate shower and sunken tub pressed against it, taking center stage and exposing whoever their occupants would be to the outside world.

  Despite her desire to try out both, she explored the rest of the room, hoping for a more intimate glimpse into the man that slept on the other side of the door.

  Tiles, the same blue as his bedspread, covered the floor mixed in at random intervals with ivory, while colorful bottles and trinkets littered the various counters, ledges, and nooks, and the wall to the right held a blue marble counter with his and her sinks.

  Sara laid her things on the side empty of toiletries and eyed the walk-in closet past the private vanity set off a little to the left. What kind of man are you, Jacob Ramirez? A clothes whore? Or are you as Spartan in your closet as you are in your furnishings?

  She flicked the switch and almost turned it back off again. Mary, Mother of God. Her fingers automatically did the sign of the cross over her chest and forehead though she’d never practiced Catholicism a day in her life. She kissed her fingertips afterwards for good measure.

  Jacob closet was one of the most beautiful rooms she’d seen. Rows of light-colored wood drawers and cupboards had silver-toned handles as accents that were so shiny they were more likely platinum than silver, and every surface offered a different article of clothing or pair of shoe. It wasn’t so much that he had a lot of clothes; it was the presentation of them. She fully expected a seamstress to pop out from around one of the shelves and ask to take her measurements.

  Walking further inside, Sara let her fingers drift over his suits and sighed. What would it be like to have this much money? It would alleviate most of her worries now, but would the new ones it created be worth it?

  Probably not. Problems existed everywhere. Jacob had more money, and more demons, than she’d know what to do with.

  Sara turned off the light, stepping back into the bathroom, and gazed longingly at the sunken tub along the adjacent wall. Big enough to sit four, it boasted jets that had to feel heavenly on aching muscles. Her lower back longed to find out, but she’d save it for another time. She didn’t want to make too much noise and awaken him.

  Before heading to the shower, she entered the small corner enclosure that housed a toilet and another sink. After using the facilities, she crossed to the center of the main room and gave her full attention to the side wall directly across from the vanities.

  The view came close to hypnotizing her. She could set up camp there the rest of her life and die happy. The floor-to-ceiling glass brought the outside elements right to her fingertips.

  Midmorning sunlight danced along her skin as she crossed to the monstrous shower. At least six feet long, it was encased in all glass, a blue marble column in the center housing the pipes. She turned on the spray and water rained down upon her from eight different nozzles that hung from the ceiling.

  Her body actually started singing.

  The tune of the song sounded an awful lot like Bruno Mars’ “Marry You”.

  33

  Jacob woke up expecting to see Sara next to him. Fear hit him first when he found her missing. He didn’t remember having one, but had he had another episode? Had he hurt her?

  His bed looked like a warzone.

  What did she look like?

  Bruised?

  Broken?

  Gone?

  Or just extremely well-fucked? They had, after all, enjoyed four rounds of sex that bordered on being acrobatic.

  Regardless though. Why had he risked it? He’d promised himself… He’d taken a risk, and for what? Just to have her near him? Sure, he’d offered her a guest room, but he knew her well enough to know she’d refuse. No, he’d invited her to stay because he’d wanted her to stay. With him. In his bed. All night.

  What kind of bastard did that make him?

  The worst kind.

  Yet she’d stayed.

  Though it shouldn’t have, somehow that made him feel as she always did. Better. Lighter. Freer.

  And considering how Mrs. Everett had handed him his ass yesterday for preemptively suggesting that his father had been the driving force behind the fundraiser that had brought in BCF a massive influx of customers and profit, the fact that he hadn’t spent most of the night, if not gripped in the throes of a nightmare, at least wondering if he’d made the right call should’ve downright astounded him. But it didn’t.

  Because of Sara. The woman currently missing from his bed.

  Yesterday, his father had looked at him with a mix of confusion and something Jacob couldn’t name when he’d made the announcement to the board. Brian had tried to corner Jacob afterwards for an explanation, but what was there to say? Jacob still didn’t want to talk to the man, nor had he really forgiven him. Realizing BCF would be just as fucked up with Jacob at the helm only meant that he’d forgo any effort at revenge.

  Jacob’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had more important things to occupy his time today than his father. He allowed himself no more than a quick wash-up, then headed to the kitchen hoping to find Sara there. “Are you starving, or did you…?” Only an empty room greeted him.

  Where was she?

  He crossed to the glass overlooking the ocean and found his answer. A solitary figure strolled the secluded beach below, flirting with the edge of the water. Even from this distance, she was unmistakable.

  He palmed his phone and pulled up his messages and his smile broadened.

  Sara: Made you some breakfast. It’s in the fridge. It isn’t much, but I promise it won’t kill you. I think.

  Inside the fridge on the center shelf sat an omelet wrapped in cellophane, oozing cheese and vegetables—rubbery, overcooked vegetables by the looks of them.

  Nothing had ever tasted as good.

  He finished quickly and started down the long, steep staircase that eventually led to the private beach below. He found her lying out at the curve in the shoreline that holed up under the cliffs. Sometimes having access to a private nude beach had its benefits. “Are you tired of the ocean yet?”

  “I might not want to ever leave again. Especially with something as tasty as you by my side.”

  Jacob plopped down next to Sara as she rolled onto her back.

  A pretty blush crept up her bare chest. “I said that last part out loud, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did. And I’m beginning to realize I am a very lucky man.” He tickled her ribs until she giggled, then wrapped his arms around her. “What have you gotten into today, Sara Morrow? Snooped through all my things yet?”

  “Yep. And I found your secret stash of porn. You might want to be a little more careful hiding your bestiality collection.”

  “If that’s all you found…” He winked, loving that she feigned shock. “…Then that’s not my secret stash.”

  “Heaven help us all.”

  His laughter echoed back to him over the sound of the waves. Each time he thought he couldn't possibly enjoy her company more, she proved him wrong. He linked his fingers with hers, nodding toward the closed book beside her. “Which one di
d you borrow?”

  “Some murder mystery that scared me more than it entertained. Twenty pages in, and armed with the new knowledge of how to effectively skin someone from ankle to shoulder, I thought it best to find something else to occupy my time.”

  “Serial killers don’t do it for you, hmm?”

  “Only when I’m really hard up. Which apparently doesn’t seem to happen when I’m around you.” Her smile lit her eyes.

  “That’s funny, because I’m always really hard when I’m around you.” Before she could protest, he yanked off her bikini bottoms. Not stopping when she squealed, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her, positioning her so that she straddled his face. “Thanks for breakfast. Now it's time for my dessert.”

  The next day, Jacob loaded Sara into his jeep to take her to meet the other woman in his life.

  “Where are we going?” Sara settled in the passenger side and linked her fingers with his after he started the vehicle and headed toward Pacific Beach.

  “Mama Bea invited us over for tea.”

  In an obvious fit of nerves, Sara’s hand slipped from his grasp to pick at her jeans. “I wish you would’ve told me before. I-I’m not presentable. Are you sure we can’t reschedule for, I don’t know, like two months from now?”

  “Stop worrying. You look perfect.” Besides the fact, if he even attempted to reschedule, Mama Bea would hunt them both down. She’d made it clear in no uncertain terms his last visit that she wouldn’t tolerate any more of his “foolishness”.

  And maybe a part of him felt guilty for not telling Sara about his upcoming trip to see Sorenson three days from now. The man had come through with a contract, complete with Elise’s signature, that stated she agreed to stay away from Jacob to the tune of a stipend of five hundred thousand dollars annually so long as he kept up his end of the deal and met with Sorenson. Jacob had set up the meeting as soon as the contract had come across his desk.