“Sam.” She moaned my name against the top of my head, the sound tickling against my scalp. “You feel so good.”
My fingers sank into the firm flesh of her ass as I tugged her closer, wanting to be deeper inside her. I kissed my way to her mouth, nipping at her lower lip, then sucking on her tongue. Everything melted away, leaving nothing but Phoebe, her heat, her scent, her touch. I could no longer tell where she ended and I began. She bucked against me, meeting each thrust, and I felt it from head to toe, but not just in my body. I couldn’t explain it, it was just…more. Like our energy was blending together, colored streams of light flowing from her to me then back again.
Pressure built to unbearable peaks, and I reached between us, stroking her swollen clit with my thumb, needing to feel her release.
She gasped, pulling her mouth from mine, then sinking her teeth into my shoulder as she pulsed around my dick so hard my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t even thrust, but I didn’t need to. I’d passed the point of no return, my balls drawn up so tight they ached. I came so hard everything went black, then stars exploded behind my eyelids. Every color, bursting one after another as my dick pulsated.
Phoebe slipped my hand away from her clit and wrapped her arms around me, holding me inside her, aftershocks still coursing through her.
I didn’t know how long we stayed that way. Time had ceased to exist. Our breaths and heartbeats synced as we both drifted back to earth.
Phoebe stroked my hair, then pulled my head back enough to meet my gaze. “Wow.”
I laughed, and she joined me, the sound echoing on the glass walls and ceiling as sunlight streamed around us. “Uh, yeah. That was…”
Her eyes sparkled, her skin damp and flushed. “What was that? I mean, seriously, at one point I swear I left my body, but I was still with you. That sounds crazy. Does your grandmother grow any hallucinogens? Because, just, I don’t, wow.”
I reluctantly eased out of her. “Nope. Nothing like that. It may smell magical in here, but they’re really just herbs.”
It was next to impossible to look away from Phoebe. Her hair loose and wild, her full lips parted, her dress twisted and clinging to her… Beautifully natural and completely wrecked. Even my spent dick twitched in approval.
She raised her arms, trying to gather her hair into some semblance of order, then gave up with another laugh. I leaned in and kissed her. “Leave it. You look hot as fuck. And stay there—let me get some stuff so we can clean up a bit.”
I slid open the cabinets under the table and pulled out a tub of baby wipes.
Phoebe snorted. “Do a lot of people have sex in here?”
“Uh, not to my knowledge—but who knows? Baby wipes are just excellent at removing the oils and whatnot from your hands when you’ve been working with all the different herbs.”
Once we’d both cleaned up, she hopped down from the table, straightening her clothes and slipping back into her abandoned flip-flops. “I can’t even remember which herbs I’ve already collected. I can barely remember my own name.”
“Phoebe, right?”
She smacked my arm.
“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t say the wrong name.”
She scowled, looking impossibly hotter. “You’re asking for it.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I think I already got it. But I’ll take it again if you’re offering.”
“I’m telling you, there’s something up with the herbs in here.”
My lips brushed against hers, and she kissed me back in a way that made me seriously consider another round. I knew it all had nothing to do with the herbs and everything to do with whatever was going on between us.
The tarot cards popped into my head, and each time I thought of them it grew harder to dismiss the thought. Was it possible? Did we have a soul connection? Or was it just chemistry?
At the moment, I didn’t care. I breathed in the earthy smell of the greenhouse and Phoebe’s sweetness, just grateful to be standing there. With her.
25
Phoebe
The next few weeks flew by like a blur. Or a dream. A really good dream that I didn’t want to wake up from. I spent my days at Speakeasy, finalizing menu items and training wait staff and kitchen staff, and my nights with Sam, trying out recipes, cuddling by the fire pit, and having sex that somehow kept managing to get better and better.
This was what people meant when they talked about the honeymoon period of a relationship, where everything was blissful and you wanted to spend every waking moment together. I’d thought it was a myth. Urban legend. Something for other people, but not for me. Yet here I was, frying a gazillion chicken wings for “wingin’ it”—tonight’s sample from the soon-to-be-released final menu—and counting the seconds until Sam got off work so we could go home together.
Those two words made my stomach flip-flop. Home. Together. We spent some nights at his place and some at mine, but who were we kidding? We were basically living together. And the weirdest part? The only thing that freaked me out about it was how not freaked-out I was about it.
Lily, one of the bartenders, popped her blonde head into the kitchen. “What smells so good?”
I smiled and waved her in. I liked Lily a lot. She was an amazing artist. Her colorful resin work was all over Crystal Persuasion, and she was also a super-hard-working bartender. “I’ve made a literal fuck-ton of wings, and we have a bunch of sauces. What would you like to try?”
She perused the stainless buckets, lifting the ladles and sniffing each sauce. “Oooh, what’s this one? Smells amazing.”
“Maple sriracha.” I grabbed a small metal bowl, took a half dozen wings from the warming rack above the fryer, and tossed them with a ladleful of sauce. “There’s blue cheese dressing in the prep fridge if you want.”
“Nope. I’m all about the maple.” She picked up a wing and blew a few times, then took a bite. Her eyes rolled up in her head. “Oh, man, Phoebe. These are going to be such a hit. I’m so excited for the gastropub to open. Have you heard customers talking? That’s all I hear lately.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I usually get town gossip when I eavesdrop, now all anyone’s talking about is who was here which nights and what they’ve sampled so far. You’ve got everyone super anxious for the grand opening.”
I dumped the last batch of wings into a warming tray and wiped my hands on a dish towel. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I love creating menus, but it’s so hard to guess what sounds good on paper versus what’ll be a hit with the actual customers.”
“I wouldn’t worry. You seem to be reading the locals like a book. Mind if I take these out for the bar staff to try? RD and Ty are here already.”
“Absolutely. Here, let me give you a basket with a few of the other flavors.” I quickly tossed some in ginger-plum sauce, and some in hot honey. “The honey ones are spicy and made with Lyons honey and the ginger plum ones have an Asian-style thing going on. Let me know what everyone thinks.”
“Will do.” She placed the baskets on a small tray and disappeared into the dining room.
Just as I finished cleaning up, my phone vibrated. Right on cue, Sam was here. It still amused me that he called instead of texting, but I loved hearing his voice so I wasn’t about to complain.
“Need a lift home?”
“Need some wings?”
“Oooh, wings.”
I laughed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I’d made sample batches of all the sauces in his kitchen the night before. We’d tried them out on potato chips, which had tasted amazing. But didn’t everything taste amazing when you were eating with a hot guy wearing nothing but boxer briefs and who kissed you between sips of Shipley cider? I was pretty sure that could make cardboard seem like a delicacy.
I shoved some wings into a cardboard takeout box and scooted out the back door.
Just the sight of him sitting in his truck, smiling at me, was enough to make my he
art race. I climbed in, and he immediately pulled me into a slow, lazy kiss. “Good day today?”
“Yes. Got so much done. How about you?”
“Same. The Reiki practitioner and the tarot reader both started at the shop today and both had back-to-back appointments the whole day.”
“That’s amazing. It was a really good idea to start offering services like that.”
He nodded, and it was nice seeing him look so pleased. He normally brushed off his accomplishments as if they were no big deal. “Yeah, if this keeps up it’ll be great. Every single client made a purchase in the shop before they left too. I asked, and neither Beth nor Amy had even suggested they buy anything.”
“Nice. The shop looks amazing. It’s not even my thing, but if I wandered in off the street I’d probably buy something. Everything is so eye-catching and I love that you have the little cards everywhere explaining everything.”
He gave me a sly smile. “Am I sensing an affinity for crystals? Have I wooed you toward the woo-woo?”
I rolled my eyes, and he gave a deep laugh.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it…”
“Fine. Fine. You give good woo. Are you happy now?”
“I am.” His head tipped forward but I could still see his ear-to-ear grin through the curtain of honey-brown hair.
Jerk. Sexy, gorgeous, irresistible, wooing me with woo-woo jerk. I love you.
What, whoa. Where the fuck did that come from?
Sam pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. “Your place or mine?”
“We left all the sauces in your fridge.”
“Good point.”
I climbed out of the truck, clutching the takeout container, willing myself to breathe. Why had I thought that? I’d almost blurted it out. That was absurd, wasn’t it? I mean, yeah, we got along great and the sex was otherworldly. I felt safe and happy and relaxed around him. And sure, I wanted to spend all my time with him, and I missed him if I didn’t see him for a few hours. And yes, he was the first thing on my mind when I woke up every morning. But that didn’t mean anything.
I love him.
Oh my fuck.
I kicked my shoes off in the mudroom and followed Sam into the kitchen. He plucked two bottles of cider from the fridge, cracked the tops off, and handed me one. “What’s wrong?”
Shit. I forced myself to blink. “Nothing.”
He pulled the bowls of sauce from the fridge then nudged the door closed with a knock of his hip.
Kegel.
Dammit. Even in a near catatonic state, I still responded to him like he had a remote control for my nether regions.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Hamish following you outside the restaurant to get to those wings?” He glanced behind me as if checking to see if I’d summoned a spirit with my appetizers.
“Who’s Hamish?” I opened the box of wings.
His eyes widened. “You’ve been at Speakeasy all this time and no one’s warned you about Hamish’s ghost?”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Yup. Hamish used to own this building. Local old-timer. Iris and my grandmother knew him well. And it seems he’s not quite ready to leave Speakeasy.”
I took a sip of cider, letting the cool tanginess roll on my tongue. “Meaning…what exactly?”
Sam shrugged. “There’s a seat at the bar, the corner one by the entrance. Everyone who sits there has weird experiences. Cold chills. Goosebumps. And there are shenanigans. Little things being moved around. Doors closing or opening when no one’s near them.”
“Get out.”
“Just being honest. Ask the bartenders. They’ll tell you. Hell, they even leave a drink at that barstool for him sometimes.”
I chuckled. “Maybe I should have offered him some wings.”
“Maybe. But I’ll happily eat his portion.” He grinned at me. “But seriously, you okay? You seem a little tense.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
He stepped behind me. Warm fingers worked their way up my arms, over my shoulders, to my neck, instantly finding the stiff knots and kneading them. It hurt, but his touch was so skilled it took seconds for the tension to release. “Better?”
“Your hands are magical. How do you do that?”
He kissed the side of my neck. “I just pay attention. I like paying attention to your body.”
I leaned back against him, rubbing my ass on his crotch and feeling him harden against me. “I like paying attention to your body too.”
“Maybe after we eat, we can both relax in the tub.” He turned me in his arms, gazing down at me, silver-blue eyes so sexy and suggestive.
I love you.
I needed an intervention. “Let’s eat.”
Puck joined us, and I pulled some pieces of chicken off for him, careful to make sure he didn’t sneak off with any of the bones. Sam made happy noises as he tried all the sauces and licked his fingers clean. I was Kegeling and panicking and generally unable to control my brain or body.
“You sure you’re okay?” He studied me, calm but clearly concerned.
“I think the grand opening is just starting to freak me out. There’s so much to do and not much time left.” That was all true, it just wasn’t at all what had me freaked at this particular moment.
“You’re doing great. Everyone has loved every single thing you’ve rolled out so far. The whole town is buzzing about the grand opening. You’re already a hit.”
“Thanks. I just don’t want to fuck anything up.” Also true, but once again, I wasn’t really talking about the restaurant.
Sam was happy. I was happy. I didn’t want to fuck that up. And didn’t things like falling in love always fuck everything up? Falling in love. Oh god. The words made my stomach flip again. How had this happened? I’d spent my whole life trying to avoid falling in love and now it had snuck up on me like some kind of ninja feeling.
Sam kissed the side of my head. “I’m gonna go get the bath started.”
I wanted nothing more than to see Sam naked and to soak in a giant tub with essential oils and candlelight. But I needed to catch my breath first. “I have to run over to my place. I need to send a few quick vendor emails, and I want to grab some fresh clothes anyway. I smell like a fry cook.”
“You smell amazing, but sure, take your time. You know how long that tub takes to fill. No rush.”
I grabbed my shoes from the mudroom and had to stop myself from sprinting across the yard. Once safe inside the guesthouse, I paced like a caged animal. This was not a healthy or normal response, and I knew it. People fell in love every day and it went just fine. Look at Audrey…and Ellie. Two close female friends my age who were head over heels in love with great guys. Married. Happy.
That wasn’t scary, right? So what was I panicking about? Besides which, just because I was having these crazy over-the-top feelings didn’t mean Sam was having any such thoughts. He had been pretty damn clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship. And he had a good reason. He’d been in love and gotten hurt. Badly. My reason wasn’t even based on personal experience. At least he’d had the guts to try it once before deciding it was a bad idea.
This line of reasoning wasn’t helping. I pulled the ties out of my hair, letting it tumble down. “I really do smell like a fry cook.”
I hoped the essential oils or incense, or whatever he decided to do with the bath, would drown out the scent, because I didn’t have time to shampoo without keeping Sam waiting. I made a quick ponytail and then stripped off my clothes, grabbed a fresh pair of yoga pants and a tank, and slipped on my short summer bathrobe.
Not wanting to be a liar, I flipped open my laptop and typed a quick reply to a vendor. My fingers hovered over the twitter icon, but I realized I no longer cared if I was a meme. That all felt like a million years ago. I closed the laptop and wandered back across the yard.
The sun had set, but the sky still glowed with deep reds and purples. Candlelight flickered from th
e bathroom window. I pushed Puck back inside as I walked into the house. “No night hunting for you, naughty boy.”
He circled my feet, his softness tickling my bare legs. The kitchen was empty, everything put away. Soft music played, something instrumental and new-agey—probably another attempt by Sam to calm whatever he’d sensed was bothering me. The sound of running water added to the soothing music, and I wandered toward the bathroom, depositing my change of clothes on the sideboard.
I expected to see Sam in some form of undress, maybe scenting the air with incense or placing crystals in the tub. Instead, I found him already in the bath, eyes closed, head tipped back, neck resting on a rolled-up towel, and hand wrapped around his beautiful cock.
My heart stuttered.
Up. Down. Up. Down. He stroked himself with long, drawn-out movements, wrist swiveling at his swollen crown before making the slow descent. Holy. Fucking. Hotness.
Kegel.
I shifted, staying silent but needing to move because the intense heat pooling between my legs overwhelmed me. Could I spontaneously orgasm just from being a pervy voyeur and watching him? It seemed entirely possible. My pussy clenched tighter, nipples pebbling against the soft fabric of my robe. Without thinking, one hand went to my breast, circling the stiff peak, which intensified the dense need between my legs.
“You can keep watching all you want, or you can come over and join me.” His sultry voice startled me, and I nearly fell over.
“How did you know I was watching you?”
His eyes opened, hand still teasing his cock. “I could feel you.”
His words rippled through me. From anyone else I’d have called bullshit. Even argued. But from Sam, I believed him. It made perfect sense. How many times had I picked up the phone knowing it was him, or gone to the door a second before he knocked? I could always tell when he was near. His presence was palpable. I guess mine was to him too.
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