His face is grim. He sighs and watches his brother and nephew. “He wasn’t. But I think he’d hang the moon if Seth asked right now.”
The sun has begun to set, and from two pontoon boats out in the water, fireworks begin filling the night sky.
Josh pulls me back down on our blanket, but I know he’s keeping a sharp eye on his brother. When I glance over, Zack has a firm grasp on Seth’s shoulders, his jaw is clenched shut, and sweat is beaded on his brow. He glances over to me and winks, sending me a cocky smile, but I know he’s panicked inside.
Seth is curled against Zack’s side, his eyes wide with wonder as he watches the bright flashes across the sky.
“They’re fine,” Josh murmurs against my hair, and tightens his arms around me. I glance up at him and smile and then settle into his arms to watch the show.
* * *
I love to cook. I especially enjoy cooking in Josh’s kitchen. It’s big, providing me with plenty of space to dance around to the Top Forty station on the satellite radio. Pink is currently encouraging me to get up and try.
I love Pink.
Seth and Zack are gone for the day, having packed up early to go fishing. Seeing them joking and arguing over who would catch the most fish warmed my heart. I hope they have a great day together, getting to know each other again after so much time apart.
I shimmy to the fridge and pull out the eggs, bacon, and hash browns and set about the task at hand.
I’m making breakfast for my man.
Josh is out working on morning chores, but I called Louie and asked him to send Josh back to the house in about a half hour.
I glance at the clock on the microwave.
Make that twenty minutes.
I slide the bacon into the oven and move my body with the loud music, swinging my hips in time with the beat, switching gears to a Kelly Clarkson song.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sexy in all my life,” Josh murmurs from behind me just as I’m pulling the bacon out of the oven. I turn to smile at him and take in the sight of him. He’s leaning against the counter behind me, his ankles crossed and his hands gripping the countertop. He’s sweaty and dirty from morning chores, but when he smiles at me in that way that says that I’m about to be rewarded handsomely for cooking this meal, I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in all my life.
“A barefoot woman cooking in your kitchen is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen?” I ask dryly.
He laughs as he saunters over to me and kisses my forehead without touching me anywhere else. “This woman cooking in my kitchen is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Do I have time to shower?”
“Yep.” I grin up at him and then begin dancing about again as I move to the stove and put the hash browns in the skillet.
“Keep moving your hips like that and I’ll take you right now,” he growls.
“Go shower!” I laugh and throw a piece of potato at him. “I’m working here.”
He returns to the kitchen twenty minutes later, clean and fresh and hot.
I toss his words back at him as I set the table: “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You didn’t have to cook.” He pulls me into a tight hug and kisses my cheek and then slants his mouth over mine, kissing me slowly and thoroughly.
“I know, but I like to cook.” I pull back and pat his cheek lightly. “Have a seat.”
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks, then sips his coffee.
“I’m good. I think my ears are finally recovered from the fireworks last night.” I laugh and pass him the bacon.
“Zack and Seth seemed to be good this morning.” Josh’s tone is light, but I know he’s relieved.
“They did.” I nod and take a bite of my eggs. “I hope the worst is over.”
“He’s twelve. We haven’t seen the worst yet.”
“You know what I mean.” I laugh and shake my head at him.
“This is delicious.” His happy brown eyes meet mine as he takes a bite of his bacon. “I’m discovering all kinds of hidden talents.”
“I wasn’t hiding my cooking talents,” I respond wryly.
“I was referring to your dancing-while-cooking talents.” He grins widely.
“I need music to cook. It’s a requirement.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I take my last bite and lean back in the chair, full and happy.
“When will your house be done?” he asks without looking at me, finishing up his meal.
“The day after tomorrow.” The thought of moving back home, of not being next to him every night, is like a knife to the chest, but I know it’s too soon to suggest that we live together, and Josh hasn’t said anything about my staying.
“I’m sure you’ll be relieved to have it done.”
“Mmm,” I murmur noncommittally. “You’ll probably be happy to have your house back to yourself.”
He grows quiet and sits across the table from me, staring down at his plate, his hands fisted on the table.
“Josh?”
“Are you finished?” he asks quietly, his voice in direct opposition to his body language.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He stands, scoops me out of my chair, and heads straight to his bedroom.
“Aren’t we supposed to wait thirty minutes after eating before we can do this?” I ask with a laugh, and bury my face in his neck as he carries me through the house.
“I think we’ll be fine. I need you.”
He kisses my temple gently and sets me on my feet at the edge of the bed.
“No kitchen sex today?”
“Maybe later. For now, I want you here, in my bed.”
His eyes are intense as he steps to me and runs his knuckles down my cheek. I settle my hands on his hips, looping my middle fingers through his belt loops and brushing my thumbs on the warm, smooth skin beneath his T-shirt.
“I love the way you touch me,” he whispers, and leans in to kiss my forehead, so gently that I can barely feel it. His lips move down to my cheeks, my nose, and finally settle over my own. His hands grip the hem of my shirt, and he lifts it over my head, making me back away for just a moment, and then his lips are on mine again.
He unfastens my denim shorts and lets them fall around my ankles.
“Fuck me, you’re not wearing underwear.” His wide eyes catch mine and I grin smugly.
“Nope.”
“That’s fucking hot.”
“I’m glad you approve.” I make quick work of his own jeans and shirt, anxious to feel his skin under my hands.
When his jeans and shorts slide down his hips, his erection springs free, and I immediately sit at the edge of the bed, wrap my hands around the length, and suck the tip into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispers, and plunges his fingers into my hair, not pushing himself into me, but needing to have his hands on me.
I lick the length of him, down to the small patch of dark hair at the base, and then back up again, tracing the thick vein that runs up the underside of his beautiful cock.
“I love your cock,” I murmur, and look up at him as I take him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tip, and sink down until I feel him at the back of my throat.
He growls as his head falls back and his hands clench in my hair. Now he does begin to guide me up and down on his length in a steady, even rhythm. I cup his ass in my hands, reveling in the clench of the muscles as he thrusts into my mouth.
I sink down again, and this time when the tip is in the back of my throat, I swallow, massaging the tip of his cock.
“Son of a bitch!” He grips my hair roughly and pulls me off him, bends down to wrap an arm around my waist, and scoots me effortlessly back onto the bed.
“I wanted to make you come,” I pout, batting my eyelashes at him playfully.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth.” He shakes his head and covers me with his body. “I want to come in your pussy.”
“Well then, do it.”
“I will.” He flashes me a naughty grin that has my stomach muscles tightening and my legs flexing around his hips. “Eventually.”
I rotate my hips, pushing my wet pussy against his full cock, and he moans, narrowing his eyes down at me playfully.
“You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Me?” I roll my hips again and grin when he bites his lower lip. “I just want you inside me.”
He suddenly reverses our positions, rolling us across the bed, and I’m now on top, straddling him. I grip his hands in mine, linking our fingers and holding them down at either side of his head, and kiss him deeply as I continue to grind on him, spreading my juices up and down his hard, thick cock.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re fucking with my head.”
“I think I’ll fuck with something else too,” I murmur, and lift my hips, feeling the tip at my opening. I sink down until he’s seated inside me. “God, you feel good.”
He pulls his hands out of mine and grips my hips, raising and lowering me on him. I lean back and plant my hands on his thighs and ride him in earnest, hard and fast, glorying in the look of complete rapture on his face, the feel of his hands gripping so hard on my hips that they’re sure to leave bruises, and the feel of his rock-hard cock thrusting mercilessly inside me.
Making him lose himself like this is my undoing.
He sits up and wraps his arms around my waist, takes my nipple into his mouth, and suckles hard, pulling me even harder and deeper onto him.
“Come,” he commands, and sucks on the other nipple, and his harsh voice sends me over into an amazing orgasm. I push down and clamp on to him, grinding against him, riding the wave of the orgasm.
He suddenly lifts me off him and crawls quickly off the bed, turning me so my legs are dangling off the side and I’m facedown into the covers and pillows that have been scattered about.
“My feet can’t reach the floor.” My voice is breathless as he plants himself behind me and grips my hips roughly in his callused hands.
“Wrap your legs back around my thighs.”
He slams inside me as my calves clench the backs of his thighs, and he grips one wrist behind my back and pulls my hair with his other hand, holding me down against the bed as he fucks me blind.
It’s the most savage he’s ever been with me, as though he’s reminding me with every thrust just whom, exactly, I belong to.
After just a few thrusts, he slams into me and stills, coming hard. He groans my name and releases my wrist and hair and then bends over and plants wet, openmouthed kisses across my shoulders and on the back of my neck.
“Mine,” he whispers before pulling out of me and helping me back onto the bed. He wraps himself around me. “I think we could both use a nap,” he murmurs, and kisses my cheek.
“Okay.”
He brushes my hair back off my neck and kisses that tender spot just under my ear.
I sigh deeply, and before I know what’s happening, the words “I love you” leave my mouth.
Josh tenses up behind me, and my eyes go wide as I realize what I’ve said aloud, my body also stiffening.
Fuck, what do I say now?
Josh suddenly pulls me onto my back and leans up on his elbow to look down at me, watching my face carefully.
He’s not saying it back.
He’s not saying anything at all.
His eyes narrow on my face and he gently brushes a single strand of hair off my cheek.
“Say it again.”
I feel tears fill my eyes; tears of frustration and embarrassment and love as I shake my head no.
He catches a tear with his thumb, and his eyes soften as he continues to watch me.
“Say it again, Carolina.”
Oh, how I love the sound of my name on his tongue. That alone almost makes me cave, but I resolutely shake my head no.
He glides his hand down my face, down my neck to a breast, where he brushes his thumb across my already-puckered nipple, making me gasp. His lips twitch as his hand moves farther south, over my stomach to my center. But instead of sinking his fingers inside me or worrying my clit with his thumb, he just cups me in his hand and leans in to kiss my cheek in that soft way he does that makes me sigh.
“Cara,” he whispers, and moves over me, his cock already hard once more, and slowly slips inside me. “Say it again.”
“You say it,” I whisper so softly I’m not even sure if he’s heard me.
With his body filling mine, covering mine, his eyes holding mine, he leans on one elbow and grips my hand with the other, holding it between us.
“I love you, Carolina Donovan, more than I ever thought was possible.” He nudges his nose against mine and then rests his forehead on my forehead, sighing deeply. “I don’t remember what my life was like before you.”
“I love you,” I murmur, with more conviction this time, and sigh as he begins to make long, slow movements with his hips, building us both back up slowly.
“You’re so beautiful.” He kisses one cheek and then the other. “So damn smart.” Kisses my jawline and down my neck, then over to the other side and back up again.
“Josh,” I whisper, the sensations running through me making it hard for me to form coherent thought.
“Yes, love?”
“I need you.”
“You have me, baby.” His pace doesn’t change, but the intensity of the thrusts do, and before I know it, I’m on the precipice of another amazing, teeth-numbing orgasm.
“Oh, God!” He plunges inside me and holds himself there, watching me as I shatter beneath him.
“I fucking love it when you massage my dick like that.” And with that he comes again, loudly, shuddering over me.
I run my fingertips up and down his back, absorbing his weight as I kiss his neck and shoulder softly.
He pulls back, his dark hair falling over his forehead, and I brush it back with my fingers. “You’re so handsome.”
“You destroy me, Cara.”
Just like that, I’m thrown. I can only stare up at him as he tries to pull his thoughts together.
“You. Destroy. Me.” He swallows hard and cups my face gently in his hands. “I love you and respect you so much.”
“Josh”—I lift my head and kiss him softly—“I love you too.”
CHAPTER
Twelve
JOSH
She loves me.
I unconsciously rub my stomach, as if that will clear out the butterflies, while I lean on the doorframe of my large master bathroom and watch Cara dress for our night out with our friends. Since Jill’s in town, we’re all going downtown to play pool and dance.
Well, the guys will play pool and the girls will dance.
Cara pulls a sexy tank dress over her head and down her amazing, curvy body. It’s black and hugs her breasts and hips, the hemline hitting her midthigh. Her honey-blond hair is down, falling in gentle waves down her back and around her sweet face. She’s worked some magic with a few pieces of makeup, and her lips are pink and pouty.
Just like her pussy.
I was inside her an hour ago and damn if I don’t want to boost her up onto that countertop and take her again. I don’t know what the hell she’s doing to me, but I hope she never stops.
“Hoops or studs?” She holds one of each earring up to her ears, asking my opinion. I move up behind her, wrap my arms around her middle, and bend down to bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. She is everything soft and gentle and good.
She’s everything.
“They both look great,” I murmur into her neck, and let my hands glide down her hips to her naked, smooth thighs and up under her dress.
“We don’t have time for this,” she mutters with a giggle.
“I love that sound.”
“What sound?” She tilts her head farther to the side, giving me better access to her throat.
“Your giggle.” Her dress is up around her waist now and my hands are roaming over her hips and ass, gl
orying in the warmth of her soft skin.
“Josh, we have to—” She can’t complete the thought as she bites her lip and leans into my chest, widening her stance as my hand moves between her legs to fondle her pussy.
I fucking love her pussy.
“We have to what?” I ask, and chuckle when she swallows hard and opens those gorgeous green eyes to watch me in the mirror.
“Go.”
“We will.” I smile softly at her in the mirror and hold her gaze in mine as my hands drive her wild.
No one else is as responsive as Carolina is.
“When I touch you”—I kiss her shoulder and her neck—“you always give yourself to me so easily.”
“Did you want me to put up a fight?” she asks dryly.
“No, it’s fucking sexy as hell.” I push her hair away from the back of her neck and kiss her there, push on her clit with my thumb and wrap my arm around her to pinch a nipple through her dress. “Come for me, Cara.”
And she does, bending at the waist, holding on to the countertop and pushing her sexy ass back against me.
I pull my hands away, smooth her dress back into place, and grin at her.
“I like the hoop earrings.”
She’s panting as she grins back at me, her eyes glassy with lust. “Okay.”
* * *
The bar is crowded, which is expected on a holiday weekend in the heart of summer. A mixture of tourists and locals are mingling in various stages of drunkenness. The band has been playing in this bar for the past twenty years. They play a mixture of classic rock and country, and they are badass.
Right now they’re playing “Brown Eyed Girl.”
The stage and the dance floor are adjacent to the pool room, with tall, round tables and stools scattered about. Ty secured one of the four pool tables before we got here.
“Good shot, man,” Ty calls to Zack, who just sank his red ball in a corner pocket.
“I figured you’d have forgotten how to play over there in the sandbox.” I take a pull on my beer and watch my brother circle the table, looking for his next shot.
“Fuck you,” he retorts with a grin, and sinks his yellow ball in the side pocket.
Loving Cara Page 14