The Winner Takes It All

by Jennifer Dawson

  Despite her exhaustion, her body stirred to life. “I don’t know, are they embarrassing?”

  The last of the laces fell away and then she was naked, and he lowered her back to the bed. Her skin a decadent, delicious slide against her cotton sheets.

  He traced a path over her bare breasts and around her nipples, which beaded and puckered under his touch. “I’m sure you’ll think so.”

  The bed bounced as he reached over for his phone and all traces of sleepiness disappeared.

  He opened the picture application and handed it to her.

  She put the phone facedown on her stomach, not sure she wanted to look.

  “Come on, don’t be chicken. We both know you loved taking them.” He chuckled, his voice low and wicked. “Believe me, the evidence is there to prove it.”

  She flushed, jabbing him in the ribs. “You’re impossible.”

  “Trust me, Cecilia. They’ll embarrass you, but deep down I know you’ll like them.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He dipped his fingers under the sheets and ran his fingers over her swollen flesh. “Because you’re already wet thinking about them.”

  She frowned. He was right. Curses. As much as she didn’t want to look, the curiosity was there. She opened one eye and glanced quickly before putting the phone down again.

  He laughed but didn’t prod further. And finally she worked up her courage and looked again.

  They did embarrass her.

  And arouse her.

  An odd cocktail that had heat rushing between her legs. Was that even her? How could that be her? There were no traces of the severe woman who had walked into that Revival kitchen. There wasn’t a person alive that would look at these pictures and call her an ice queen. Picture after picture with her legs splayed obscenely, breasts plump and exposed, expression wicked.

  Shane leisurely circled her clit, slicked with desire. “It’s so damn good, Cecilia.”

  She stopped on an image of her head thrown back, legs spread, his fingers mimicking his movements, and her breath caught. “The best.”

  “You like them,” he whispered low in her ear. “You’re already burning up. Wet and slick and ready.”

  Her expression on the screen mirroring her desire, she could only stare transfixed as Shane’s talented fingers continued to torment her.

  “Tell me you like them.” One finger slid into her swollen core.

  She looked like a sex object. “I like them.”

  His thumb found her clit and she jolted with pleasure. He nipped at her ear, his cock hard now against her thigh. “Those pictures are better than any porn man ever created.”

  “You’re biased,” she said on a pant, arching her back as he touched her exactly the way she liked.

  He gripped her chin and forced her eyes to his. “Since I’m the only one who’s ever going to see them, my opinion is the only one that matters.”

  She twined her hands around his neck, pulling him close. “You’re right. You are the only one that matters.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning Shane sat in Cecilia’s kitchen, watching her lick powdered sugar from her fingers. She’d already devoured two of the doughnuts he’d run out and bought this morning.

  There was no denying the truth any longer. He was a goner.

  He didn’t know how or why it had happened. She wasn’t the woman he’d envisioned for himself, but damned if that mattered. Every second he spent with her, he fell a bit more.

  Those pictures sealed the deal. He hadn’t expected her to trust him. Had expected her to say no and had been prepared to accept it. It would have put a wedge between them, but she hadn’t let that happen, and now he was more bound to her than ever.

  One whiskey-colored brow rose. “What are you looking at? Do I have powdered sugar on my face?”

  He smiled and reached across the trendy but impractical copper table and wiped at her cheek. He sucked the sugar off his thumb. “You weren’t even eating a week ago.”

  She swallowed then took a sip of black coffee. “I know, it’s like my appetite turned on and I can’t turn it off.” She took another bite of doughnut and shook her head, talking around the bite. “These are so good. Like, the best ever.”

  He chuckled. “They’re Hostess. I got them from the Walgreens at the corner.”

  “I don’t care. I’m never going to be without them again.”

  He propped his elbows on the table. “There’s a doughnut house in my old neighborhood that will give you orgasms, they’re that good.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Orgasms, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing we’re going there then. I do need orgasms. I’ve been running a little short.”

  He laughed and pinched her.

  She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. “Miles mentioned that I’ve gained weight. I don’t think it was a compliment.”

  “I’ll kill him.” Shane growled, fighting back a possessive jealousy that was calmed only by the knowledge she’d spent last night with him.

  She shrugged. “My jeans are a little tight.”

  “Cecilia, there’s no arguing you’re a gorgeous woman, so I know you’ll understand when I say this. But when you showed up in Revival you looked like shit.”

  She grinned ear to ear. “Gee, Shane, tell me what you really think.”

  He grabbed the edge of her seat and scooted her closer, pulling her off her chair onto his lap. He slid a hand up her smooth, bare thigh, squeezing the curve of her hip. “At least you know you can depend on me to always tell you the truth.”

  “Good point.” She shifted, moved and straddled him, the fabric of his dress shirt parting to reveal her naked body. “And what’s your current assessment?”

  He palmed her ass. “You’re extremely fuckable.”

  She slapped his shoulder. “That’s not a compliment!”

  “Sure it is.”

  She straightened, a proper expression sliding over her features that signaled he was about to get a talking-to, most likely about something feminist. “Men aren’t at all discerning. It’s common knowledge they’ll sleep with anything, given the opportunity.”

  “Not true,” he said, hugging her close and burrowing his nose in the side of her neck. She smelled like sex and him, like he’d marked her so completely she carried his scent. “I’ve never slept around just because I could. I leave the man whoring to Evan.”

  She narrowed those storm-blue eyes of hers. “Really?”

  “Really.” He shrugged, running his hand up and down her thigh. “Empty sex isn’t at all satisfying.”

  She ran a finger down his jaw, and smiled. “It’s cliché, but I never knew what I was missing until you.”

  Satisfaction pumped fast in his veins. “Oh yeah?”

  She licked his lower lip, then nipped, her white teeth scraping over his flesh. “You’re very dirty.”

  He shifted her so she nudged the hard ridge of his cock. “I can get much dirtier.”

  Her eyes lit up and her lips tilted. “Hmmm . . . I find that hard to believe.”

  He rocked her into his erection. “Challenge accepted.”

  Her gaze turned a bit dazed, her eyes glassy, but before she got too comfortable he slapped her ass, hard.

  She sucked in a breath, jerking as her pupils dilated. “Hey! That hurt.”

  It should have; his palm stung. “That’s the idea.”

  She glared, but squirmed on his lap, rubbing against his hard cock. He gave her a knowing grin. “Gave you a little jolt too, didn’t it?”

  Her chin tilted. “Certainly not.”

  He smirked. “Fine, then I won’t do it again.”

  She opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. Then closed. Her brow wrinkled as something akin to confusion passed over her face. She blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re impossible.”

  He squeezed the flesh, heated from where he’d slapped her, and her gaze dimmed. He
kissed her, a quick brush on the lips before setting her back. “Come on, it’s time to get ready, we’ve got a lot of things to do today before we work our way back to Revival.”

  She puffed out her bottom lip, surprising him with a pout. “What about accepting the challenge?”

  He lifted her off his lap and set her on her feet. “You’ll just have to wait and see what I come up with, now won’t you?”

  Cecilia waited on the front steps for Shane to pick her up. The late spring air brushed over her skin and she closed her eyes, lifting her head to the sun. The sounds of the city filled her ears as the leaves blew with a gust of wind that swept hair across her cheek.

  Had she ever felt this good? This alive?

  A loud roar ruined her serenity and her lids snapped open in time to see a motorcycle barreling down the street. A huge, loud bike of black and silver chrome vibrated through the streets and down her spine.

  She waited for it to pass so she’d once again be plunged into peace. Only that didn’t happen. The motorcycle pulled up in front of her house. Her heart gave a lurch. The driver flicked the engine off and removed his helmet.

  It was Shane. Smile devastating and dangerous, he gave her a long, thorough glance before nodding. He looked every inch the quintessential bad boy in jeans, worn shit-kicker biker boots, and a black T-shirt. Like every good girl’s fantasy and every father’s nightmare. Utterly gorgeous and delicious.

  Cecilia vacillated between wanting to jump him and being terrified! She walked down the steps to the sidewalk, pointing to the beast of a machine. “What’s this?”

  He grabbed her wrist and tugged her close, brushing his mouth over hers and making her shiver. “It’s a Harley.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t actually expect me to get on that thing, do you?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He flashed a devious grin. “Are you scared?”

  “Motorcycles are dangerous.” She scowled at the bike before squinting at the design on the tank. “Is that your company logo?”

  “It’s a custom build. A friend of mine makes them.”

  She held up the skirt of her sundress, a pale tan number with white trimmed stitching around the edges and a white sash for a belt. “Look at what I’m wearing.”

  “You look like a rich girl.”

  She huffed, crossed her arms, and tapped her matching low-heeled sling-backs. “I am a rich girl.”

  His chin jutted toward the leather seat behind him. “Get on.”

  Fear and temptation pulled at her in equal measure. “Shane Donovan, you know perfectly well I’m not dressed for riding a motorcycle.”

  Like a total guy, he shrugged. “I’ll grant you pants would be better. But we’re not going too far and I won’t take you on the expressway. Tuck your skirt between your legs and me and you’ll be fine.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Get on, Cecilia.”

  She wrinkled her nose, hemmed and hawed, then finally plopped on the back, adjusting her skirt around her legs and wedging the fabric between them so she didn’t flash everyone. A flair of heat shot through her as her thighs straddled Shane’s hips.

  She ignored it.

  He twisted around and handed her a helmet.

  She puffed out her bottom lip in a pout that kept making an appearance. “This is going to ruin my hair.”

  “Don’t be such a girl.”

  “I am a girl.”

  He gripped her chin and nipped her bottom lip. “A gorgeous girl.”

  “Don’t try and flatter me,” she said, disgruntled. “I’m not going to like this.”

  He grinned. “I’ll make you a deal. Do this for me and, if after, I haven’t converted you, I’ll never make you ride again.”

  “Deal,” she said, putting the helmet on.

  He followed suit before turning over the engine. It roared to life, echoing in her ears.

  The vibration raced up her spine and traveled like lightning over her skin. A rush of exhilaration raced through her veins like wildfire.

  He twisted the handle, revving the engine.

  She felt it everywhere. Pulsing and shuddering between her legs. He gunned the motor again and she jolted, letting out a startled, “Oh!”

  Gripping him tighter, she bit her lip as her clit throbbed. “Jesus!”

  He laughed, the sound filled with wickedness. “Hang on.”

  He pulled out onto the street and she clutched at him for dear life. Muscles trembling, her heart beat furiously against her ribs as adrenaline raced through her blood.

  It was terrifying.

  Exhilarating and arousing.

  As the city flew by, the wind whipping over her skin, she was free.

  Twenty minutes later they were in front of a brick bungalow and Cecilia’s whole body vibrated with tension and the rush of danger. A powerful aphrodisiac that had her knees wobbling as Shane helped her off the bike.

  He grinned down at her. “See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

  “You’re a jerk!” Oh God, she was on fire. She was never going to forgive him.

  He curled his hand around the nape of her neck. “Admit it, you loved it.”

  “I didn’t,” she whispered, all her feigned indignation melting away as she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.

  The kiss was slow and deep.

  His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as his tongue tangled with hers like a dance. Desperate to get closer, she threaded her fingers through his hair.

  Their mouths slid together. Parted. Shifted. Then merged again.

  His fingers tightened around her neck. At her waist.

  She arched, stretching her body to mold against him in that special place where only he fit.

  Her fingers traced his jaw as his lips branded her.

  Her breath came fast, an urgent rise and fall that matched his.

  He growled, a low, deep sound that vibrated through her with a power that matched his beast of a motorcycle. He pulled away, licking her bottom lip. “We have to stop. Now.”

  She nodded, her vision hazy. “Yes.”

  His teeth scraped over her swollen lip. “On the way home, I want you to take off your panties.”

  At the thought, she shuddered. He made her crazy. Depraved. “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. I like the thought of you looking so prim and proper, while your slick pussy rubs against the seat and my back.”

  Her knees turned to jelly.

  He chuckled and patted her ass. “Let’s go.”

  Cecilia sat in the high-back chair as Shane’s great-aunt Cathy looked her over from head to toe. In her late eighties, her hair was snow white, her skin wrinkled, but her blue eyes were razor sharp. She wore a T-shirt that proclaimed her Team Jacob and Cecilia could not contain her grin.

  The older woman shifted her attention back and forth between her nephew and Cecilia. “I don’t appreciate you neckin’ in the middle of my front yard, boy.”

  A flush crawled up Cecilia’s neck and splashed on her cheeks, but she managed to keep her chin held high.

  Shane stretched out his long legs and hooked one ankle over the other. “Sorry about that, Aunt Cathy.” Not sounding sorry at all.

  “What would your momma say?” Aunt Cathy asked, her expression sly.

  Cecilia pressed her lips together.

  Shane laced his fingers over his stomach. “I suppose you could call her and find out.”

  His aunt reached between the cushions of her antique brocade couch and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  Shane shot off the chair, stalked over to her and held out his open palm. “Hand them over. You’re not supposed to be smoking.”

  She waved him away. “I’m eighty-eight, boy. If I want to smoke, I’ll smoke.”

  “It’s not good for you.” He tried to snatch them, but she yanked her hand back. “Auntie,” he said in a warning tone.

  In response, she lit a long, slim cigarette and took a long drag.

  Shane si
ghed and returned to his seat.

  Cecilia grinned. It was adorable.

  “And what about you, girl?” The older woman looked at Cecilia with her sharp gaze. “Didn’t your momma ever tell you no one will buy the cow if you give the milk away for free?”

  Shane shot her a smirk, one brow raised.

  With the poise gained through years of practice, she picked up her cup of tea. “I must have missed that lesson somewhere along the way.”

  Shane chuckled.

  Aunt Cathy took a long drag of her cigarette and blew out a billow of smoke. “I made all five of my husbands wait until the wedding night. But I’m old-fashioned that way.”

  “I see,” Cecilia said primly.

  After another long puff, his aunt tilted the lit cigarette toward Shane. “Your mom said you’d change my oil.”

  Shane sighed. “Why don’t you let the mechanic I sent over here do it?”

  Her painted-on brows slammed together. “I don’t want some stranger handling my car. It’s a classic.”

  “It’s a Buick.”

  “Exactly.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “My back stairs need some fixing too.”

  “And I suppose I have to fix them?” Shane said, his tone wry and amused.

  “It’s the least you can do for your old auntie.”

  Ten minutes later, Cecilia sat on the little wooden deck as Shane banged away at the second-to-the-bottom step. Just watching his muscles bunch and flex as he worked the hammer had her feeling all melty and shivery inside. She tilted her face to the sun, wishing it were ten degrees hotter so he’d take his shirt off.

  “Hand me that screwdriver, baby.” He held out his hand, reminding her of that day when she’d found him under the kitchen sink.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago. His voice, once so cold when he’d talked to her, now burned hot in that special way reserved only for her.

  She handed it to him. “You’re amazing.”

  He stilled, his head lifting from his task to look at her.

  “Is there anything you can’t do?” Unable to resist, she trailed a finger over his jaw. “You take care of everyone.”

  Green eyes darkening, he shook his head. “I’m not doing anything that anyone else wouldn’t do.”