Or maybe I will.
I re-tuck the towel around my waist the best I can one-handed. Sierra turns, pulling out of my arm. She opens the door a foot and sticks her head out.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Did you find Chase?” Lisa stops by the door, eyebrows raised as she looks me up and down.
“Yeah. I found him.”
Lisa blinks, cocking her head to stare down Sierra. “And you stripped him naked?”
“I was already naked,” I quip, giving Lisa a smirk.
“Well then,” she replies. “I guess I’m not needed here. Have fun.”
Sierra makes a face. “I feel bad not getting a drink with you. That’s why we came, after all.”
Lisa shakes her head. “I’d feel worse knowing you left that for me. We can get drinks another time. Like tomorrow. When you give me details.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” Sierra purses her lips and tries not to smile.
Lisa turns to me and puts her hand next to her mouth. “Yes, she does,” she whisper-talks. “So give her something to talk about.”
“Now two people have told you that,” I say to Sierra. “Maybe you’ll take her advice at least.”
“She better,” Lisa says. “Don’t disappoint me, Si.”
Sierra rolls her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get a drink with you?”
Lisa checks the time on her phone. “I’m gonna call Rob. He gets off in twenty minutes so he’ll be here in thirty. I can play a game of pool with Wyatt until then.”
“Let him win,” Sierra teases.
Lisa grimaces. “I physically can’t do anything bad on purpose. Wyatt can just grow a pair and deal with it.”
Sierra laughs, emerald eyes glimmering. “Then don’t complain to me when he stomps around work annoying the shit out of you for it.”
Lisa huffs. “Fine. Call me in the morning.”
“I will.” Sierra moves away to give Lisa a hug goodbye. Lisa eyes me up and down once more, then whispers, “not fair” to Sierra before leaving.
“So,” Sierra starts, closing the door.
“So,” I echo. “Are you hungry? We could get something to eat.”
“I am, actually. I was going to get something here with Lisa. You?”
“I’m always hungry.”
She bites her lip and I notice her eyes keep dropping down to the V-line of muscle above my hips.
“I’ll take a quick shower,” I go on. “And then you can tell me which of the two sit-down restaurants in this town to take you to.”
“I like that plan.”
“Do you want the TV on or something?”
She reaches into her yellow bag and pulls out her Kindle. “I’m good.”
* * *
“I’m sorry,” the waitress says, coming over to our table, bill in hand. “We’re closing in five minutes.”
I tear my eyes away from Sierra and look around. The tables around us are empty and cleared. We’re the only ones here.
“Oh, sorry,” Sierra says, looking just as shocked as I am. “I lost track of the time.”
The waitress gives her a warm smile. “It’s all right, honey.”
I take the bill before Sierra has a chance to even consider paying it. After dinner we ordered drinks, and then dessert, and then drinks again.
I always thought the whole ‘we can talk for hours’ thing was bullshit until today. Because the time went by too fast, and if Sierra and I sat and talked the rest of the night I’d be happy. And saying ‘she gets me’ is even more of a bullshit line, but she does.
“Every cat I’ve ever met has been an asshole,” I say, going back to our conversation. I pay the bill and leave the waitress a generous tip since we kept her here.
“Then you haven’t met the right cats. Mine are nice. Well, Tinkerbell is.” Sierra finishes her wine and laughs. “Dolly is an asshole. I’m trying to contradict you and I’m failing.”
“Dogs, on the other hand, like people. Even people who are shitty to them.”
I stand and go around the table, offering a hand to Sierra. “I know. I like dogs too. Maybe it’s the way you have to earn a cat’s affection that I like. You just said it: dogs love you no matter what. But cats—“ She holds up a finger, pointing at me. “You have to earn their affection.”
We step into the thick, summer air, emerging onto the main street that runs through the downtown of Summer Hill. The bookstore is a few blocks away, and while most shops are closed by this hour, people mill about the town.
“I’m not used to this heat yet.”
“The humidity is high,” Sierra comments. “It’s been a humid summer. And you never really get used to it.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Want to go swimming?”
“You have a pool?” I ask, not remembering seeing one in her yard.
“Not technically, but my parents have one and they’re still out of town.”
“Then, yes,” I say, not caring that I don’t have swim trunks with me. I have a few pairs, actually, since I frequented the beach while living along the shore in New Jersey. Sierra says nothing about going to her house to get one either.
“Thanks,” she says as I open the passenger door of my Mustang for her. I hurry around and get in, and head toward her house. We park by her parents’ house and go around back, Sierra enters a passcode and opens a gate to the backyard. Crickets sing out as we dash along a cobblestone path to the pool.
My previous line of work permitted me inside a handful of upscale, luxury houses like this. I was there for a job, not as a guest, but I still stood in awe of people who lived that way. The Belmont’s historic estate isn’t as over-the-top as some of the new mansions I’ve been in, but they know how to live lavishly. The pool setup is no exception.
Sierra opens French doors to a pool house, revealing a built-in bar.
“Want anything?” she asks.
I close the space between us, standing behind Sierra. I wrap my arms around her, and she presses her ass into my cock. My lips meet the skin on her neck and Sierra melts against me.
I already feel drunk.
I’m struggling to stay in control.
“I want you,” I whisper. Sierra takes in a quick breath. I can feel her pulse rise, bounding through her body. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Chase,” she moans, whirling around in my arms. Her eyes fall shut and she rests her head against my chest. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me, Sierra.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the pool and takes her shoes off.
“Float with me?” she asks, reaching for a big, pink flamingo floaty. I take off my shoes, pull my phone and wallet from my pocket, and toss them all onto a lounge chair. It takes a bit of creativity, but we both get on the damn thing with minimal splashing. I let my bare feet dangle in the water and lay back. Sierra’s right next to me, head resting on my arm. We look up at the stars above, not talking. Time passes, minutes, then maybe an hour, and we’re still perfectly content and comfortable together.
“How did you get the scar on your back?” she asks quietly, slipping her hand onto my chest.
“I was in the right place at the wrong time,” I say after a moment’s consideration. There’s no good way to tell her I broke into someone’s house to take a piece of priceless art.
“Don’t give it all away,” she teases.
“It was from a piece of glass,” I go on. “From a broken window.” A window I broke as I snuck into a house that was supposed to be empty. I felt bad for the guy and went easy on him. I left him unconscious on the floor but alive at least, after I allowed him to get one good swing on me. I failed to see the broken glass in his hand, however.
“Ouch,” she says. “No wonder you knew to check for glass in my ankle.”
“Yeah, I learned from experience.” Carefully, I turn onto my side and face Sierra. She hooks her arm around me and closes her eyes,
tipping her head up so her nose brushes against mine.
And now we’re kissing. Slow, soft kisses. I cup Sierra’s cheek with my hand and the kisses turn hard. Deep. Desperate. I move my hand down to Sierra’s waist. And then her hip. I gather her skirt in my hand, bunching up the fabric around her ass. Sierra moves closer, bringing her leg up and over mine. My fingers press into her skin, feeling the warmth between her legs as I urge her onto me. Sierra pushes up, fury in her kisses. I slide my hand up to her waist, pulling her close.
She’s over top of me now, and, fuck, she’s hot. Her breasts crush against me and she’s kissing me like her life depends on it. She widens her legs, straddling me, putting us off balance, but it’s so far in the back of my mind, I don’t realize it until the floaty flips over and Sierra and I both sink into the water.
In the shallow end, we both pop out of the water, Sierra flips her wet hair out of her face, green eyes wide. She looks at me for a beat and then we both start laughing. I reach for her, bringing her against me.
“You did say you wanted to go swimming,” I muse.
“True. And the water does feel good tonight.”
“It feels very good.”
Water laps against us, and I reach out to push Sierra’s wet hair away from her face. I’ve never been a cuddle-after-sex type of guy, but right now I want to hold Sierra to me, wrapped up in peaceful silence as much as I want to fuck her.
Sierra takes my arm, wiping beads of water off my tattoos so she can trace them with her finger.
“Do you want to dry off?” she asks.
“Only if you do.”
“I don’t mind being wet.”
I can’t help but smirk.
She flushes slightly but laughs. “Take that how you want.”
“Can’t I just take you?” I take her around the waist and bring her over.
“I think so,” she whispers softly as her long, wet lashes come together. She leans back in the water, spreading her arms and legs out in an attempt to float. “I always sink.”
“The wet dress isn’t helping,” I tell her. “It’s weighing you down.”
“Chase Henson, are you trying to get me out of my dress?” she asks with fake shock, standing upright. She backs up to the edge of the pool and hops up, keeping her feet in the water.
“Is it working?” I ask as I join her.
“There’s a good chance it will.”
Fuck. I can’t resist her any longer. I twist and wrap my arms around her, and we’re kissing like we never stopped. Water from her wet hair drips down her face, but I don’t care. I find the zipper on the back of her dress and pull it down, slipping my hand inside her dress and feeling her wet skin. We lay back on the concrete surrounding the pool, kissing and removing each other’s clothing.
“Chase,” Sierra breathes. “Hang on.”
It takes everything I have to move away. Her finger sweeps across my cheek and then she gets up.
“Come here,” she says, taking my hand. We go around the bar and into the pool house, emerging into a living room. It’s nicer and larger than probably half the houses in this town and sits empty in the Belmonts’ backyard most of the time. The air conditioner is on, bringing a chill to our wet skin.
“You were right about the dress. It is heavy.” She bites her lip and turns around, gathering her hand in her hair. “Can you unzip it all the way?”
Fuck yes, I can. “Sure.”
Slowly, I pull the zipper the rest of the way down, where it stops right above her ass. She’s wearing a bright purple bra and her lace underwear matches. If she were anyone else, I’d strip her out of the dress, pick her up over my shoulder, and throw her down on the couch. We’d fuck, get dressed again, and I’d leave with an empty promise of a phone call.
But she’s not anyone else.
She’s the only woman who’s succeeded at making me nervous about fucking this up. And she’s not even trying.
With her back turned, she lets the straps of her dress slide over her shoulders and into a fabric puddle around her feet and onto the floor.
“That’s better,” she says shyly and turns around, fighting herself to not be self-conscious. Though she has absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.
“You are beautiful,” I tell her and step over, taking a firm grasp on her hips. “So fucking hot.” I kiss her neck, and Sierra softly moans, hands going to my chest. She drops them to my waist, popping the button on my jeans. Using her free hand, Sierra fumbles to push my jeans down, but the wet denim sticks to my skin. I help her get them off, then raise my hands above my head so she can remove my shirt.
She shivers as the air kicks on again, sending a blast of cold right at us. This time I do pick her up and take her to the couch, grabbing a blanket. I cover us both and put my arm around her shoulders, bringing her in so her head is resting on my shoulder.
“This place is nice.”
“It is,” she agrees. “I had sleepovers out here a lot when I was a kid.”
“I bet your friends loved it.”
“I think they loved it more than they liked me,” she says with a laugh. “That all seems so long ago. And so trivial.”
“It does.”
She relaxes against me, absentmindedly running her fingers up and down my arm. Then she turns and puts her hand to my chest, outlining a tattoo on my chest.
“What does it say?” she asks softly, mouthing the words spelled out in Latin.
“‘If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.’ Mark Twain said it.”
“I love that. It’s deep in a very simple way.”
“Yeah,” I agree, and that’s the reason I got it. To remind me to stay grounded despite the crazy shit I got myself into.
“Why is it in Latin?”
I shrug. “I thought it sounded cooler that way.”
Sierra laughs softly. “Does each one have significance?”
“Yeah, in a way at least. They’re significant because I like them,” I offer, making Sierra smile. “I get a new one every time I move.”
“You’ve moved a lot.” Nerves tingle under her fingers as she outlines another tattoo.
“I have.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You can,” I tell her. “And I’ll answer, though I don’t really have a good answer other than the concept of people staying in one place is weird to me. You work the same job, doing the same thing over and over again only to come home to the same house, surrounded by the same people every day for the rest of your life. It’s too easy to get stuck in an endless cycle of going through the motions that way. I wanted to experience life, not just survive because I had to.” The words leave my mouth a second before I recall one of Sierra’s voicemails, which said something similar.
“I like going home to the same place and seeing the same people every day.”
I shrug. “Maybe if I had people I liked to go home to, it’d be a different story.” The honesty in my statement sends a shock through me.
Sierra doesn’t speak, but instead tips her head to the side, inspecting me. “Were you looking for them?” she finally whispers.
“Who?”
“People you liked enough.”
“No. I didn’t think they could exist.”
“Didn’t? You do now?”
My heart speeds up. “I’m starting to think it’s possible.”
Her hands land on my shoulders, and I rest mine on the small of her back, gently bringing her in.
“You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are, do you?” I ask.
Sierra just shakes her head, looking a little shy.
“If only you knew what you are doing to me.”
The shyness goes away and Sierra flashes a coy smile. “Oh, I know.” She drops her gaze to my lap, staring for a few seconds before moving closer. She plunges her hand inside my boxers, feeling the full length of my hard cock. Her slender fingers wrap around it, starting at the base, and slowly pumping up. She circles her thumb ove
r the tip, and it feels so damn good. My head falls back against the couch as she keeps working her hand. I widen my legs and Sierra moves closer, going onto her knees. She keeps jerking me off, and her soft skin is enough to make me come if she keeps this up.
I take her wrist and pull it from my boxers and kiss her hard. My tongue goes in her mouth and I pull her to me, crushing her large breasts against my chest. We lay back, and I cannot stop kissing her.
The glistening tip of my cock sticks out of my boxers, and Sierra reaches for it again, moaning with hunger for it when she feels the wetness.
“God, I want you,” I groan, and Sierra’s grasp tightens. Her hand on my cock feels fucking amazing. Her pussy is going to destroy me and I’m going to love every fucking minute of it.
“I want you too,” she pants and I advance, laying her down on the couch, dick pressing into her tender core. Sierra bends her knees and wraps a leg around me. I can feel the heat of her pussy through her panties. She inhales deep, pushing her tits up into my face.
She bucks her hips, rubbing herself against me, and moans. I brush her hair out of her face and kiss her, taking her bottom lip between my teeth before I move my mouth to her neck. Sierra gasps and a shiver runs through her. She curls her fingers, nails biting into my skin. The pain turns me on even more, and I’m rocking my hips against hers, feeling like I could come in seconds.
I’m so caught up in her. I want to come while at the same time I want to fuck her all night. I kiss her neck again and start to trail kisses down it. I pause at her collarbone and pull back to admire her breasts. Her bra has no padding—not that she needs it—and I can see the faint outline of her nipples through the wet fabric. It’s the kind that clasps in the front, and it’s so fucking hot when I undo it. I palm my hand over one of her tits while I kiss my way to the other. I flick my tongue over her pert nipple, and Sierra squirms.
She rakes her fingers through my hair, moaning softly. Keeping one breast in my mouth, continuing to tease her nipple with my tongue, I slide my other hand down and slip my fingers inside her underwear. With one finger, I circle the entrance to her sweet pussy, cock aching to push inside. She’s so fucking wet.
Small town romance boxed set Page 14