by Roni Loren
He bent his head to kiss me, and I let him this time. He gathered me against him and poured everything he had into the connection, whispering to me in between breaths. How much he loved me. How much he wanted me. And how he’d never let me go.
That was when what Gran had been trying to tell me finally sunk in.
People make sacrifices for love.
Now it was time to make mine.
I took Harris by the hand and guided him to the bench. The sun would be up soon.
Chapter 15
~Burke~
Tori was rubbing her body against Burke, using the pumping beat of the music as an excuse for her grinding. The scotch was wearing off. He wasn’t drunk enough for this shit.
“You’re a great dancer,” she yelled over the music and let her hand graze over his crotch in an accidentally-on-purpose way.
His dick jumped to attention, but a bitter taste crossed his tongue. “Maybe we should take a break.”
But she didn’t seem to hear him. Instead, she brushed her lips along the curve of his neck, running the tip of her tongue over the sweat there, then put her mouth next to his ear. “Maybe we should check out one of the rooms. You said you climb mountains. I bet you’re good with rope.”
So Miss America wanted to be tied up. A little kink on a platter served up for him. The Burke of a year ago would’ve ordered a full serving. “Tori, I don’t think this—”
A hand grabbed his shoulder. “Excuse me, but this is my dance.”
Tori reared up and looked toward the newcomer, daggers in her eyes. “The hell it is.”
But Burke was already turning to the familiar sound, a compass finding its north. Gretchen stood stock still in the dancing throng, eyes a little red and puffy, but a hint of cocky challenge on her face. “Moving on so soon?”
“Cher.” His heart fell to his toes.
Tori molded herself to his back, her hand snaking low on his belly. “Burke, what’s this?”
He started to answer and extract himself from her hold, but Gretchen smiled big and broad and stepped closer. “Hi, sweetie. This is me telling you to back the hell off and stop groping this man.”
“Last I checked, he didn’t seem to mind.” Tori purred next to his ear.
Gretchen lifted an eyebrow, reminding Burke of the feisty girl she used to be. “Might want to check again, sugar.”
Burke had trouble finding his voice, still taken aback by the fact that Gretchen was here. Alone. He didn’t know if something had gone wrong or what, but regardless, he knew he wanted to be nowhere else but with her. He put some distance between him and Tori. “Thanks for the dance.”
Her jaw dropped for a second and then she narrowed her eyes at Gretchen. He doubted Tori got turned down much. He’d been about to tell her he was bailing anyway, but now it’d look like there’d been some competition and she’d lost—which meant she had to save face. She leaned over to Gretchen. “Your boyfriend was about to tie me up and fuck me. Just so you know.”
Burke grimaced, but Gretchen simply smiled a smile dripping with sweetness. “Well, bless your heart. Thanks for sharing.”
Tori—apparently not a southerner—didn’t catch the jab. She blinked, looking confused for a minute then rolled her eyes and spun on her high heels to shove her way through the crowd.
Gretchen gave her a little finger wave as Tori left and then swung her attention back to Burke. She pushed up on her toes to get closer to his ear. “So, hi.”
“Hi?” He grabbed her hand and tugged her through the gyrating mass of bodies, which had gotten more raucous in the last half hour, and found his way to the booth. He stopped her in front of it. “Gretch, what are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“What? You needed—did something go wrong? Did it not work?” His questions fired out in staccato rhythm, but he couldn’t keep them from spilling out. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
“I have been,” she said, swiping absently at her cheeks. “But not because it didn’t work.”
He lost his breath for a second. “It worked.”
She shook her head, sorrow there. “Not exactly.”
The music was too loud, and none of this was making sense. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I can’t hear myself think.”
They made their way into the much quieter hallway and found a little alcove with a couch. He dragged her down next to him. Somewhere along the way, she must’ve grabbed champagne from a waiter’s tray because she had a full glass in her hand.
“Talk to me, cher.”
She raised a finger to him, telling him to give her a second, and tilted the glass back. She downed it in a few long gulps.
When she didn’t immediately start explaining herself after putting the drink aside, he thought his head might explode. “Gretchen, tell me what’s going on. Did you see Harris?”
“I did.” Her voice sounded distant, like she wasn’t fully there with him.
“And?”
“We talked. We kissed.”
The words hit him like barbs, burrowing into his skin and drawing blood. “Okay.”
“He couldn’t stop saying how much he loved me.” She peered down at her hands, rubbing her thumb across her palm. “And I could feel this—this really powerful force of wanting. Like he would do anything to have me.”
Burke tried to keep his expression neutral even though nausea welled up fast and furious. “That’s good, right? I mean, that you love each other that strongly.”
Her gaze lifted, colliding with his. “He would do anything to have me, Burke. But you, on the other hand, you gave me up.”
The accusation came out of left field. And stung like hell. “What?”
She shook her head, as if trying to jostle her thoughts into the order she wanted. “I’m Princess the dog, and you gave me to the neighbor.”
She looked at him as if that explained everything. But the words didn’t line up right in his brain. Maybe he’d had one too many scotches. “What the hell are you talking about, cher? What was I supposed—”
“You gave me up. Twice.” She held up two fingers. “And walked away.”
“Gretch—”
“Don’t deny it. You gave me up. You did it back in high school and you did it today.”
“I—” He didn’t know what to say to that. Her words were coming at him too fast.
“Why didn’t you fight for me after we had our first kiss?” she asked, a determined ferocity in her voice. “Why didn’t you make another move?”
He stared at her, dumbstruck. “Are you serious?”
“I need to know.”
“Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Isn’t it obvious? Because my brother was into you. You liked him back. What the hell was I supposed to do? I’m not a total douchebag. I wasn’t going to steal you from him just because I had a thing for you. I knew you’d be happy with him. He could give you shit I couldn’t. And where—”
“Shut up.”
“I’m—” But before he could get another word out, she launched herself at him, bringing her lips down on his, sending his brain on a spin and his back against the couch. He eked out a sound of protest, but then she swung her leg over his lap and straddled him, kissing him like she was starved. Any plan he’d had to talk this out dissolved in a flash. Gretchen on lap—all systems go. His lips parted, and he banded an arm around her waist, hauling her even closer.
Everything around them seemed to move in hyper speed—people walking by, music coming from the club. But in their little bubble, it was only the two of them in glorious, passionate slow motion. Like time was stretching just for them. She called his name on a breath between kisses and his entire body burned hot.
“Oh, cher…”
She broke away for a second, breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling beneath her thin tank top, her arousal deliciously on display before him. “Take me to one of these rooms.”
He pressed a kiss to her throat. “Hmm?”
“Take me to one of these rooms, Burke. Please.”
That got his attention and broke him out his erotic haze. “Wait, you wanna—”
“Yes. More than anything.”
“But what about…”
She put her fingers over his lips, hushing him. “I love you.”
His heart thumped in his chest. He blinked. She couldn’t have said what he thought he’d heard.
“No. Scratch that. I’m in love with you.” She lowered her hand from his mouth. “Not in second place. Not as consolation. I love you, Burke. The Burke who’s always been there for me. The Burke who’d rather me be happy even if it meant giving me up. I love you. Part of me always has.” She braced her hands on his shoulders. “And now all of me does.”
The words were too good, too perfect. He couldn’t let himself take them in. “But Harris…”
She wet her lips and gave a little shake of her head. “It’s just us now, Burke. You and me.”
Hope surged through him like a herd of wildebeests—thundering through him and crushing any further questions. Just us. “Yeah?”
She gave him a tender smile. “Yeah. Now take me to a room, Chatty Cathy. I don’t want to talk anymore.”
There were still a thousand questions in his head. But she loved him. Was in love with him. That was all he needed to know right now. The rest could wait. “Which room do you want, beautiful?”
“The one where you’re there.”
“Excellent choice.” He tightened his arms around her and stood with her in his arms. She hooked her ankles behind his back, smiling despite the glimmer of heartache that lingered in her eyes. Whatever she’d been through tonight had gutted her. She’d come to him to escape into something good.
He wanted to give that to her.
He hadn’t paid attention to which room was where when he’d explored earlier, so this would have to be luck of the draw. As long as Gretchen was with him, he didn’t really care what the suite looked like.
He opened the first door and it appeared to be some medieval torture chamber complete with shackles, whips, and stone floors. “Uh, maybe we should work our way up to this one.”
She peered past his shoulder and laughed. “Good idea. Though, you were about to tie up some other woman. You must have skills I don’t know about.”
He pinched her hip as he let the first door shut behind him. “Smartass. I wasn’t going anywhere with that girl. But yes, there are skills. Many, many skills.”
“Cocky.”
“Part of my charm.” He bumped open the next door, and a suite styled like some secret bedroom of a Victorian manor spread out before them. Antique furniture and dark colors. Soaring ceilings. Salacious paintings on the walls. Everything with just a hint of age to it.
“Well, I must say, sir,” Gretchen said in an over exaggerated British accent. “This is more than I was expecting. I feel quite underdressed. I forgot to wear my corset.”
Burke eyed the four-poster bed and silk sashes hanging from the corners. Not necessarily what he would’ve picked for them, but the place had possibilities.
“Care for a romp, milady?” he asked, then registered the second part of her statement. “Wait, you have a corset?”
She waggled her brows. “Yep, bought one for a portrait session in art school, but the professor deemed it too revealing.”
“Too revealing? Ah, cher. Now I’m going to have to see you in this corset to make a determination.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep. No getting out of it. Pictures have been painted. I must verify that my imagination is accurate.”
She laughed and kissed him. “How about I try it on for you when we get back home?”
Home.
His lungs squeezed tight. He hadn’t dared to ask before now. “You’re coming home with me, cher?”
She looped her arms around his neck. “It’s where I belong.”
“So Harris…”
Grief pinched her features. “The island gave me what I needed. It gave him the same.”
“And what was that?” he asked softly.
“A chance to say good-bye. A way for us both to let go.” She touched her forehead to his. “I will always love him. But you were right. I know who my soul mate is.”
He closed his eyes and held her tight. “Gretch.”
“Thank you for letting me go.”
Warmth moved through him, seeping into all the dark, cold places. They’d be together. She loved him back. “Don’t get used to it. I’ll never do that again.”
“Good.”
He shut the door quietly behind them, walked her over to the bed, and set her on her feet to undress her. He took his time, kissing his way over her collarbone and down her body, pausing at the best spots, reveling in the fact that she was really here with him—fully. With all the history. All the hurt. All the memories. They’d found each other anyway.
After undressing her and removing her sandals, he stood and stroked the curve of her jaw. “Get on the bed, cher.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” She reached for his belt and unfastened his jeans. “You got to explore last time. Now, it’s my turn.”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Is that right?”
She slipped her hand into his boxers and wrapped nimble fingers around his erection, stroking upward slow and easy. He bit his lip to keep from groaning.
“Let me show you what I always imagined doing in the coffee shop after one of your stories.” She lowered herself to her knees and yanked his jeans and underwear down with her.
A hard shudder worked through him as he gazed down at her, that blond hair flowing around her bare shoulders and her eyes brimming with feminine confidence. He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “I knew you were having dirty thoughts when we talked, cher. But if I’d known this was on your mind, I would’ve moved our talks to my place.”
Her lips tilted into a smirk as she coasted her hand up his rigid erection, pale fingers against flushed skin. “Then you would’ve missed out on all those women on your trips and had no stories to tell.”
He threaded his fingers in her hair, the sensation of her touch making his thoughts slow and sticky. “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. There were no women on those trips except you. Any story I told was a fantasy about what I would’ve wanted to do with if you’d been there with me.”
Her hand stilled, surprise lighting her eyes. “What?”
“Making love under a waterfall, curling up naked under the stars, binding a woman with my bungee cords…those were my fantasies about you.”
Her forehead scrunched. “But Miss Georgia?”
“The only one who’s seen any action in a year is my hand.” He smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead with his thumb. “You ruined me without ever trying.”
Something broke over her expression, and he thought for a moment she might cry. But instead, she nuzzled her face against his thigh, sending hot goose bumps up his spine, and then met his gaze as she put her mouth where her hand had been. He grabbed onto the bedpost as she closed her lips around him and took him inside her lush mouth. Sweet and hot and confident. Starbursts bloomed in his vision almost instantly. He groaned and reached for the silk of her hair with his free hand.
How many lonely nights had he stroked himself while thinking about Gretchen? Imagining what turned on her. Wondering if she’d be a tender lover or a bold one. Picturing the things he wanted to do to her, how he wanted to make her feel. Now she was here with him, taking him inside her body, tasting him like she’d been yearning for him as much as he’d been for her.
She ran her tongue along the underside of his cock and made a sound of pure, decadent appreciation—like she was the one receiving instead of giving. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard a more erotic sound.
But as bone-melting as the pleasure was, this wasn’t what he craved most tonight. So after a few minutes of enjoying her talented mouth, he eased back, slipping free, and took her hand to h
elp her to her feet. She gave him a questioning look, but he lifted her onto the bed instead of answering. He tugged his shirt over his head. “On your belly, cher. I need you under me.”
Her lips were glossy and her eyes full of heat as her gaze cascaded over his body. “You didn’t give me much time to explore, Mr. Brennan.”
He gave her a slow smile. “When we get home, you can tie me to the bed and do whatever you want to me.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Don’t make promises you’re not willing to keep.”
“Never.” He crawled onto the bed and kissed her neck. “I’ve got a long list of fantasies starring you. It’s going to take a while to get through it, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm,” he said with a serious nod. “Probably a lifetime. Maybe more.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment then smiled in a way that electrified everything inside him. “I think that can be arranged.”
He grinned. A lifetime. Looked like Mr. Decker the jeweler would get some business off Burke after all. Forever suddenly had a nice ring to it.
Gretchen settled back onto the pillows and eyed the silk sashes on either side of her. “So I heard this rumor that you were good at knots?”
“Well, I’ve managed not to fall off the side of any cliffs.”
She gave him a grave look. “I think I’m at definite risk for falling right now. I mean, did you see how high off the floor this bed is?”
He took one of her wrists in his hands and pressed his lips to the pulse point. “We can’t have that. Safety first. Turn over, cher. I promise to keep you safe.”
He kissed Gretchen one more time and then rolled her over. Without another word, he helped her into position and bound her with the silk, touching every part of her along the way. He’d never been particularly into handcuffs or anything like that, but the ritual of arranging her had him falling into this quiet place where nothing else existed but the two of them. He could feel her body growing warmer, more aroused, her pulse at her wrists pounding. She was breathtaking in her trust.
When he was finished securing everything, he kneeled behind her and took in the sight of her creamy skin and the red sashes. A small part of him feared that he’d finally come to the end of this crazy dream. That he’d wake up in his bedroom and there would be no such place as Eden. That the girl he loved would still be hurting and trapped in the past. That she’d still be lost to him.