He kneels, positions my knees on his shoulders, and holds my gaze as he slips his tongue through my folds.
“Oh my God!” My arms tremble at the shocking sensations shooting through my veins. He holds my legs open, licking, sucking, and lapping the chocolate dripping down.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the erotic show playing out as he worships me. I’m close, so close that carnal need turns my stomach in knots, twisting and constricting until I can’t take it anymore.
With all the strength I can find, I knife up, fist his hair, and buck into his face. Shamelessly, I chase the release. He pulls me close to the edge of the table, delving deeper, swirling inside and fucking me with his tongue until I’m gasping for air.
“Please,” I beg, not recognizing the sultry voice coming from my throat. “Please, Pierce.”
He knows what I need, changing pace and sucking hard. Stars explode behind my eyelids, and I scream hoarsely into the room, my orgasm ripping through like a bolt of lightning. He pries my legs apart in time to stand and catch me from tumbling over him. He fumbles between us, and I’m still convulsing when he positions my hips and slides in.
“Take me all the way, baby,” he coaxes.
“Yessssss,” comes out like a purr. Pierce was always large, but I swear he’s grown. His thickness glides in and out until he rams a little harder, filling me. A whimper escapes, setting off a mini-orgasm as my body adjusts to his size.
His soft beard scrapes along my cheek as he grips my ass and increases his speed. I come down from my cloud long enough to remove his shirt and run my hands over the firm muscles of his neck, shoulders, chest, and arms. They ripple under my fingers, and I can’t stop touching him, locking away the feel of his skin on my fingertips, the passion radiating between us. He rocks back and forth, kissing along my jaw.
“God, Darby, sliding into you, surrounded by your heat, sucking me deep; you have no idea what that does to me.”
“Mmm,” I moan, the coiling rebuilding at the base of my spine.
“Leaving you last night was torture. The whole time the system was being installed, all I thought about was this. Knowing it’s only me. I woke up and immediately needed you.”
“Yes,” I whine when he speeds up.
“Let me see your face, beautiful.”
I tilt his way, and my breath catches at the expression on his features. It hasn’t changed in all these years.
Possession, hunger, desire bleeding into my flesh.
“I need you with me.” He pumps harder, hitting my g-spot with each plunge. It takes less than a minute for me to hold on to him, shove my face in his throat, and shatter again. He’s right there with me, flexing tight and emptying with a guttural groan.
I collapse, not moving, trying to catch my breath. A fleeting thought crosses my mind about the fact that he’s now come in me multiple times. We touched on the subject last night, with him assuring me he’s clean. His next words killed any worries I had about precautions outside of my pill.
“You are the only woman in this world that gets me. All of me. And I’m the only man that feels all of you. No barriers, no taking the time to stop and find a little plastic package. I’m done with that. I get you bareback. Nothing comes between us.”
It was barbaric and crass, but deep down, I loved knowing that. Even the bitch who ruined my life never got to feel all of Pierce. So, this was us, having raw sex with no barriers and giving in to our desire.
“Baby, you with me?” he mumbles.
“Yeah.” I sigh dreamily.
“Thought I might have lost you to space.”
“It’s possible, but I’m back now.”
“Wanna share your thoughts?”
No, I do not want to tell him how it delights me that he gives me everything during sex. I think of something quick. “I’m pretty sure the health department would frown on us having sex on my prep table,” I tell him with a giggle.
“Highly doubt anyone but a bitter shrew would think what we did was frown worthy.” He kisses along my collarbone.
“I hate to do this, but I have to get to work.”
He presses his head into my neck, nibbles a few more times, then brings me to my feet. “Go clean up.”
I don’t miss the look of loss and force my feet to hustle to the full bathroom in the back. Once I get there, I scream, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear! Or a serial murderer!” There are remnants of the deep red sauce streaked on my neck, chest, breasts, leading down my stomach, and—oh, God—my entire pelvis, hips, and inner thighs.
He’s at the door in a second, holding my panties and bra, looking proud. “Want me to lick it off?”
“No, I have to shower!”
“Let’s shower together.” He points to the color staining his own throat. Then I notice it’s splotched all over his shirt he has draped over his shoulder.
“Oh, good God, we are in trouble. You look the same. Please, tell me you have another shirt in your truck?”
“Maybe, but the difference is, I don’t give a shit. You have to go to the party prim and proper. My job is a lot different.”
“Get out of here.” I push him away, slam the door, and do my best to shower off and salvage my makeup and hair. When I’m done, I groan at the fact that he only brought me my panties and bra, then decide to play his game, striding out confidently.
I freeze mid-step, my heart lodging in my throat. Pierce is shirtless, cracking eggs into a bowl surrounded by ingredients.
“Put on my shirt and come help me.” He tips his chin to the small sitting area where my dress and his shirt are arranged over a chair.
I shrug on his shirt, switch on the ovens, and join him. “Are you making something specific?”
“Trying to get started on the almond torte.”
“How’d you know about those?”
“Because Mom planned the menu.”
“Explains why this became my priority of the day. Why don’t you start on the cookies? The dough is already made in the fridge, and the cookie sheets are there.” I point to the large plastic tub holding supplies.
He nods and gets to work alongside me, filling three trays with perfect rows of dough. As hard as I try, I can’t concentrate with him standing so close, half-dressed, and the scent of him coating me. His arm brushes mine, and goosebumps pop across my skin. When I sneak a peek over at him, he’s grinning smugly, keeping his eyes on the table.
“You need to put your shirt back on.”
“I disagree.”
“I can’t focus.”
“Because of my shirt?”
“Partly. You’re half-naked.”
“Would you prefer I was fully naked? That’s not a problem.” He begins to pull at his belt.
“Stop! You can’t get naked or we’ll get nothing accomplished.”
He crooks an eyebrow, grinning wider. “On that, I totally disagree. I get a lot accomplished when naked.”
My measuring spoons fall on the table, and I toss my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Do you want to explain to a bunch of meddlesome women why their desserts taste like cardboard?”
“I can guarantee, if I explained it, they’d know exactly why it tastes like cardboard.”
“Pierce!”
He twirls me to him, his hands going under the shirt and cupping my ass firmly. “Baby, look at me.”
I do as he asks, and my chest seizes at the playful glint in his eye. More memories batter my brain.
“I’ve missed teasing you.” He takes the words right out of my mouth.
“Pierce.” This time, his name comes out breathy and faint.
“I want you in my shirt because it will smell like you—your perfume, the sweet aroma of cookies, and the unmistakable scent of sex. All day, I want that clinging to my skin. Every man on my crew is going to know why my mood is fucking great.”
“You want your employees to know you’ve been laid?”
“No, I want anyone who comes in contact with me to know I’m happy.”
“You’re happy?” I repeat, sounding like an idiot.
“There’s a lot of shit swirling in my world, and I know you and I have a long way to go, but for the first time in over a decade, I woke up with a smile.”
My insides melt into a puddle of sappy goo. I lift on my toes and run my lips across his. “I woke up with a smile, too,” I admit. “Those women aren’t going to miss your scent covering me.”
“Is that a problem?”
“We don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”
“There is no wrong impression in this scenario. I told you last night; I’m not fucking this up again.”
I refrain from reminding him that we can’t erase the past. “We agreed to keep things light.”
“We didn’t. You said it, and I pretended to listen. My intentions are not light.”
His declaration both thrills me and scares me. We can’t go back in time and change things. Now would be a good time to tell him that this is never going to work, because if Brasher Resorts agrees to my timeline, I’ll be moving in September. But something deep down keeps me from relaying this.
“I need to make some tortes.” His sly grin is the sign he thinks he’s got me, but this is my way of dodging any arguments.
He kisses me lightly, squeezes my butt, and then turns me back to the prep table. “How long on these cookies?”
“I’ll know by smell when they get close.”
“For those of us without a baker’s nose, how long?”
“Check them in fifteen.”
“I need to leave my assistant a message for when she gets into the office. I’ll make the call outside and take Runner with me.”
“Aren’t you going to see her soon?”
“Doubtful since I’m not going to the office until after lunch.”
“Going on-site?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Eventually. I’m going to spend some time with you this morning, then head to a project. I need her to message me Miller’s schedule.”
“Why not ask him?”
“Not in the mood to deal with him right now.”
There’s an edge to his tone that piques my curiosity. “Are you arguing?”
“Something like that.”
“About me?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because your eyes went from fun-loving to hard as stone, and also because he obviously hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you; he has some misconceptions.”
He throws my words about Evin back at me, and I decide not to pry. Instead, I nod and grab my mixing bowl. He leans in to kiss my cheek on his way out, calling for Runner to follow.
When the door shuts, closing me in, I blow out a deep breath and notice my hands are trembling.
The last thing either of us needs is more hurdles, but I have an idea this morning may have dumped us right in a world of complications.
Chapter 12
Pierce
“It’s about time you call,” Stephanie barks through the line. “I thought I was going to have to send Evin after your ass. That would not have been my first choice.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Darby came to you two nights ago, and then you showed up at her place last night. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know how that went. Heard it in her voice this morning. What the hell has taken so long?”
“Are you always this direct?”
“It’s one of my many endearing qualities. Stop sugar-talking me and answer the question.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“And now?”
“You were right.”
“I always am, but what point did I drive into your head?”
“I’m living in my own version of hell,” I admit, the knot in my gut rolling.
“Thank fucking God. Did you knock the chip off your shoulder?”
“Someone should have told me. I didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Knowing the truth, and the events that happened afterward, makes me feel like shit.”
“The bigger question is, are you going to be able to get past it?”
“In terms of why she left, yeah, I’m going to be able to deal. It’s what I did to her.”
Silence fills the line, and I check to see if we’re still connected. “Stephanie?”
“I’m here, but I don’t know what to say to that. You replaced her quickly.”
“I never replaced her. She knows the reality of my situation, and it’s not pretty.”
“You knocked up the slut of your group. Can’t imagine there’s anything pretty about that. I’ve always told her it was a mistake, but Darby was convinced you replaced her. Good lord, you went and did it again, too.”
“She knows the truth now.” My mouth tastes like I’ve swallowed acid.
“Well, I’m glad you cleared things up. It’s very good for both of you.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I need to know what kind of fight I have on my hands here.”
“What are you fighting for?”
“I’m fighting for Darby. For us. For the life we should have been living all these years. I want it all back.”
“Does she know this?”
“She’s in denial.”
“She would be. You both bring a lot of baggage to the table, and yours have names and a mother that Darby hates.”
I grit my teeth at hearing her refer to my kids as baggage. But it wouldn’t be smart to piss off the person who holds the answers I need.
“I didn’t say it’s going to be easy, but what am I going up against in Charlotte? As her best friend and her lawyer, tell me what kind of life she has in Charlotte, because I sure as hell can’t move, and the last thing I want to do is ask her to give up what she has there. Only you can help guide me.”
The line goes silent again, and this time, my brain picks up on the unspoken words. It becomes clear. “She’s not planning on going back to Charlotte, is she?”
“You need to talk to her.”
“Dammit! Why the hell can’t anyone—”
“Pierce,” she cuts in, “I want to tell you more, but there’s a very fine line between her lawyer and her friend. Answering that question pulls me over the professional line. You say you want her back? A lot of time has passed.”
“You don’t have to remind me of that.”
“Do I have to remind you that you spent all of that time angry at her?”
“Do I have to remind you that I was kept in the fucking dark?”
“How can you be sure this isn’t old feelings resurfacing and mixing with the heartache of knowing what she went through? Just because you had sex doesn’t mean you have a future.”
Her insinuation sends my blood pressure soaring. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing out. “Did you give me your number so you could bust my balls? You don’t know the kind of man I am. If you did, you’d know sex has nothing to do with it.”
“I’m hardly busting your balls. It’s a legitimate question. Why do you want her back?”
“I love her.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me?”
“That’s all your gonna get.”
“Fair enough, I guess that will do. I’m glad to know I didn’t spend the last four hours wasting my time.” She mumbles something under her breath, and the sound of papers rustling fills the line.
“Am I supposed to guess what that means?”
“No. You called for advice, and here’s what I’m going to suggest. You need to talk to Darby and go into it with an open mind. She may have lived with the emotional scars of your history, but she threw herself into DG Creations and has built an amazing business. People took notice.”
“People? What people?”
“Can’t cross that line, Pierce. It has to come from her.”
“I’m beginning to regret this phone ca
ll.”
“Remember that chip on your shoulder I mentioned?” she goes on, ignoring my comment. “Ditch the attitude. I haven’t heard the whole story from Darby, but from her brief details, along with a morning spent on the phone with Evin, I understand most of your conversations have escalated to explosive levels.”
“That changed two nights ago.”
“Good to know. I told you the morning we met that I saw the chemistry and connection. Let’s hope that has the magic healing powers it’s going to take. She’s going to need that.” Her voice grows softer, and I know immediately what she’s referring to.
“Connie isn’t going to touch this, Stephanie. I can assure you of that.”
“Pierce, I’m going to go off-character here and step into your corner. I’ve already told you how close Darby is to me, but for some reason, I have a soft spot for you. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can shield Darby from the wrath that is going to rain down when news hits about your reunion. You said earlier it wasn’t going to be easy, and you thought you were competing with Charlotte. Charlotte isn’t in the equation; it’s much more. Outside of Darby, you should start with Evin. You need him as an ally. From what I know, Darby set him straight the other day about what happened and told him that you never blamed her. I think that helped pave the way for forgiveness from him.”
“Forgiveness? He was one of the people who kept her from me.”
“He did what she asked, and you have to respect that.”
“Fine,” I grit out. Logically, she’s right, but it stings like hell to think of what could have been prevented if Evin had talked to me.
“Then, I understand there’s a problem with your brother.”
“Miller won’t be a problem.”
“Outside of Darby, those two are the most important. Because you’re both going to need all the support you can get when Connie throws down. I suspect that is going to involve your children.”
I close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest, blowing out a deep breath. Stephanie doesn’t even know Connie, and she has her pegged. “I’ll start with Evin,” I concede, suddenly exhausted.
“Good choice.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, once you talk to Darby and Evin, you’ll be calling me again. By that time, I can drop the smokescreen and we can make a plan.”
Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers Book 1) Page 12
