by Ashley Kay
“You’ll do what, Grey? Steal her away and lock her in a tower? I tried to stay away from her in the beginning, but, nevermind, I don’t have to explain anything to you. Stay out of my business.”
He clenches his fist. “When it comes to Savy, it is my business. She’s my friend.”
“And I’m your brother, but it didn’t stop you from doing what you did.”
I’m tired of this same battle, round after round. Savy’s the only bright spot here and it stands a chance of burning out as well.
Grey stomps over, grabbing his bag. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone about Savy. She’s a grown woman, she can make her own choices, but don’t think I won’t look out for her. You’ve been with a lot of women, Preston.”
Savy isn’t just any woman. Her insistence on not letting my past interfere with my future slams into me. I have no intentions of hurting her, but I need to convince Grey of that if we ever stand a chance at repairing this metaphorical bridge between us. How to explain that Savy is different? It’s beyond me. I can’t even explain it to myself—she just is.
“What I do in my own time is my business, but let me reassure you I have no desire to just add Savy to the list of women I’ve bedded. I actually like her.” Holding my hand out, I swallow the cotton drying out my throat. “Can we come to a truce for the time being?”
Glaring at my hand for a split second like it contains invisible poison, he grunts before slipping his hand in mine, squeezing tight. “Fine. Truce.”
Home is a welcome sight upon returning from the bridge. I shower, letting the warm water ease my sore muscles. I may be a fit guy, but that kind of work is unique work and new muscles I didn’t know I had protested.
Settling down on the couch with my laptop to get some work done at home is a nice perk to being your own boss. I respond to a few emails and make a few calls to some developers. Greyson wants to expand and left me in charge of securing available land for growth.
My email chimes with a new message—it’s a potential client wanting to set up a meeting. Before I can click compose, a loud bass reverberates through my walls, my fingers stalling.
What the hell?
It’s coming from Savy’s side. What’s she doing over there, watching tv with the volume all the way up? It’s impossible to concentrate when it sounds like a rave going on next door. I set my laptop down, deciding to go investigate for myself. Besides, I want to see her anyway.
Knocking on her door, my palms sweat profusely. After today at the bridge, my thoughts of her keep breaching into dirty thought land. I can’t help it. I want her. Badly.
No answer, so I knock again. After the third attempt, I try the knob, and it’s unlocked. Scowling, I open the door wider.
“Savy! You shouldn’t leav—” I stop when I realize she can’t hear me over the music blaring from a speaker in her kitchen.
Stepping over the threshold, I follow the sounds through the short foyer, past the living room, wincing from the pulsing of music through my ears.
Her back is to me, hips swaying, head bopping to the beat. On her hands are plastic gloves, one holding a dish scrubber that she’s using as a microphone. Madonna screams from the speaker, some old song of hers drowning out Savy’s singing. Thank god.
I wiggle my finger in my ears. Despite being sexy in many forms, Savy should leave the vocal performances to the professionals.
One is a lonely number, you got that right.
I ease into the kitchen and lean against the wall, arms crossed, just watching her. She twirls around, eyes closed, hands in the air, oblivious to her audience. Wearing sweats pulled to her knees with ankle socks and a t-shirt that does nothing to hide her perky tits that bounce beautifully with every spin, she looks so fucking adorable.
I cover my mouth to stop from catcalling. I’m two seconds away from stalking over to her, peeling those sweats off, and bending her over the kitchen island to fuck her until she screams my name. My dick twitches in response, and I adjust myself quickly before she sees me.
On her next spin and hip roll, her eyes fly open, locking onto me. Shrieking, she tosses her pretend microphone at my head and ducks behind the kitchen island.
Dodging the tool, I walk around the island laughing. Crouching down, I catch her splayed on the floor with her head in her hands. She turns her face up to mine, fury in her eyes that only amuses me further.
She stands up, pointing a soapy glove in my face. “Preston! You scared me! What the heck are you doing?”
I fight the urge to sweep her up and kiss the hell out of her. Being good so I don’t get a glove to the face, I step back. “You shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked. Anyone could just walk in. It’s dangerous.”
Walking around the island, she plops down into one of her chairs, pulling off her wet gloves, flinging water into the air. She sweeps the hair that’s come out of her ponytail away from her face while her hazel eyes squint at me. Quirking a lip, she responds, “Geez. First Grey, now you. I’m not worried out here. Why are you here again? Not that I mind, but…”
Sitting down in a chair myself, I clasp my hands behind my head. “I was trying to get some work done, but with your loud music I had trouble concentrating.”
She scrunches up her cute little button nose, grinning. “Sorry, old man, I like to listen to loud music when I clean. Helps it go by faster. I didn’t realize you were home.”
“I was helping Grey and Theo repair a bridge today and then decided to work the rest of the day at home instead of going into the office. I should have rethought that idea.” I wink.
Hugging her legs, she asks, “How did it go?”
“The bridge? It’s good, no issues and no trolls lurking underneath.”
She looks at me exasperatedly. “No, not the bridge, you goof. Working with Greyson and Theo?”
“It went well mostly. We had a good time. Came to a truce. Theo’s a cute kid too.”
She cocks her head. “A truce? How did that come about?”
I lean my elbow on the table, hand under my chin, watching her. I don’t want to tell her that Grey threatened me if I hurt her, so I stick with a partial truth. “He apologized for avoiding me, and then we had a sword fight with Theo. Naturally, I won.”
She raises her eyebrows. “That sounds like fun.”
“It was. I didn’t feel like murdering Grey more than a couple times at least.” I shrug. Even though the nagging thoughts of Scarlett edge around in my brain, I scatter them, not wanting to think of her while I’m with Savy.
She puts her hand on my arm and electricity tingles throughout my body, setting my heart rate into a steady gallop. Silence trails off between us, we’re tongue-tied, the tension building, rising off our skin and shrinking the room.
Like a rocket, she shoots up from the chair, her long hair bobbing in her messy bun as she leans against the island. “What do you like to eat? I’ll fix you dinner.”
That kind of food isn’t on my mind when I absorb this version of her in sweats and crazy hair. I like her all messy and real.
Standing up, I prowl toward her, caging her in against the island, her warm body flush with mine. I get within an inch of her mouth, her breath whispering across my face. Inhaling her sweet scent, I simply stare into her eyes. I lick my lips and run my nose along her jaw, feeling her chest surge with fragmented breaths.
Fuck it, I can’t dance around this overwhelming need to have her any longer, and the interruptions are getting out of hand. I’m just going to lay it all out for her—let her decide what happens next.
“Savy, what I really want to eat is you. I want you sprawled out naked on this kitchen island, thighs spread open just for me so I can taste that pretty, pink pussy of yours.” I brush my lips across hers as I whisper what’s been on my mind for weeks.
She physically shivers in my arms, and I nip at her bottom lip. Releasing it before I ravage her, I cup her cheeks with my hands. “But first, I’ll cook for you. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve don
e for me. Be right back.”
Kissing her forehead, I smile as she stands there in shock, with her mouth hanging open. Things are changing between us and I’m ready to show her I’m all in.
16
SAVANNAH
Blowing out a breath, ruffling my stray hairs, I stare at Preston’s glorious backside as he goes next door. Lord have mercy. Heat creeps across my skin, warming me up ten thousand degrees.
Silently shrieking, I realize how disheveled I look and race to my room to change before he gets back. Throwing on a pair of jeans and rifling through my closet for a shirt, nervous energy ripples through my body.
I have no doubts where this evening will lead. Preston practically undressed me with the words that spilled from his perfect mouth. I can’t deny that I want him just as badly. We’ve been tiptoeing around our attraction for a while. It’s clear we want each other, but the question is, for how long and can I handle it if things end between us?
I push aside several shirts, not liking any of them. I figure a pair of jeans doesn’t scream of desperation, so I eventually opt for a flowy shirt that’s feminine. I want to look good for him.
Twirling into the bathroom, I congratulate myself on the homeless person vibe I’m rocking, before I shake out my bun and smooth it down the best I can. A quick swipe of mascara and I feel presentable for our date/non-date. I really like him. I’ve opened up to him, he’s listened and reciprocated more than any other man I’ve been with since Brody.
The door connecting our houses opens and closes and I pop out of my room to see him come into the kitchen with a bag and two bottles of wine. My stomach flutters, and I follow his movements. He’s changed too, out of his comfy clothes, into a pair of jeans and a nice shirt. His crisp, citrusy cologne wafts in the air as he loads the fridge with the food and looks through my cabinets.
“I don’t know which wine you like so I brought over the two bottles I had.”
I come around the island and pull open a cabinet, selecting two glasses, setting them down beside the wine. “Fill ‘em up, I like both.”
He grins, popping a cork, pouring us both generous glasses of red wine. I savor the taste as the fruity flavor coats my tongue, sliding down my throat, warming my belly that’s swarming with rioting bees. After spending several weeks around him and kissing him on multiple occasions, you’d think I’d feel more comfortable, but this is different. There’s a vibration in the air, the energy swirling, raising the hairs on my skin. He’s looking at me over his glass with hunger in his blue eyes, a predator studying his prey, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.
I clear my throat. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
A wicked gleam sparks in his eyes, and I know I walked right into that trap. He plays it cool, rattling off something about chicken, but I’m too fascinated by his bare forearms to pay attention. He’s rolled up his sleeves to cook, and the sight is mesmerizing. The muscles constrict and contract with each move he makes, and I cover up my growing arousal with another glass of wine. He glances up from what he’s doing, a piece of inky hair flopping over his forehead, and I swear I hear angels sing. Sweet baby Jesus, forgive me for these thoughts.
“You ok there? You look flushed.”
I set down my glass and wipe my sweaty palms over my jeans. “I’m good, just haven’t had a good glass of wine in a while. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Flipping a towel over his shoulder, he shakes his head. “Nope, I just want you to relax and let me take care of you. Why don’t you tell me one of your favorite memories about your mom?”
Taking a seat at the island, I get to watch him cook without his beautiful eyes driving me into madness. A familiar pang hits my chest when he brings up my mom. Thankfully, the sharp pain has been replaced with a muffled pinprick surrounded by happy memories. Smiling, I pluck a good one out of the memory box, laughing before I even utter a word.
“That good, huh?” Preston turns around and puts his elbows up on the island, all his attention on me.
“Just you wait.” I take another sip of wine. “I was eleven years old, and my mom and I were out riding our bikes around the neighborhood. It was summer and a gorgeous day. I remember how hot it was. All the neighbors were out with their sprinklers watering their lawns so they could compete with who had the greenest grass. My mom and I were riding down a straight road just before it turned into a court, when one of the neighbor’s dogs came sprinting across the lawn, jumped through the sprinkler, and ran up to me, swiping my sandal right off my foot. I don’t know how it happened, but that sly pup scampered off with my shoe. I never laughed so hard in my life, and my mom was bent over her handlebars in a fit of giggles. We laughed for hours and then had to go buy me a fresh pair of sandals because there was no way I was going to wrangle it from that little dog’s mouth.”
Preston bends his head back, laughing a laugh I feel in my heart, and I swipe away the tears flowing down my cheeks at the hysterical memory.
“Wow, I don’t think I can compete with that, that’s hilarious. Was it a big dog?” he asks.
Doubled over, I hold up three fingers. “Girl Scout’s honor, the dog was no bigger than your shoe!”
Shaking his head, he turns to check on the chicken. Coming down from the high, I ask him for a memory in return, except about his dad.
He runs his fingers through his hair and comes back to the island, placing his palms flat across the smooth surface. “I don’t have a funny memory like that, but we had some good times. It’s weird that he’s gone. We didn’t talk all the time but knowing I can’t just pick up the phone to ask him a question or just see how he’s doing—it’s hard.”
I immediately reach out and put my hand on top of his, squeezing it tightly. “I’m sorry, Preston, I didn’t mean to bring him up, I know how fresh it is for you.”
“No, it’s ok, I think it’s good to collect those good memories and keep them up here,” he points to his temple, “for when it gets tough. I remember this one time he tried to teach Grey and me how to fish.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I know Greyson fishes, but you? That I’d have to see to believe it.”
Chuckling, he grabs two plates. Talking over his shoulder, he scoops whatever it is he has fixed onto them. “You and me both. I tried sticking the worm on the hook and almost hurled into the lake. Grey was making fun of me and dad was trying his best to not laugh as well. We opted to use hotdogs, and that fared better. Just when I thought I had a fish, I pulled up the line too fast and whatever I had caught swam away. The hook, though, came at me and got caught in my ear. I have a tiny scar from where it dug into my flesh. Howling in pain, it took both my dad and Grey holding me down to get it out.” He pulls at his ear and I can make out the smallest white line along his lobe.
“Ouch. But, scars are hot, so just add it to the list of good-looking things about you.”
He arches a thick eyebrow and swipes at the corner of his mouth, smirking. Realizing my mouth has yet again run away from me, I take a drink of my wine, averting my eyes to anything not Preston related.
Balancing the plates in his hands, I join him at the table. My jaw goes slack when I peek at what smells so delicious. “You made me shredded barbecue chicken?” The tangy scent turns my mouth into a watering hole. I can’t believe he remembered it’s my favorite food.
He tops it off with some coleslaw and toasted brioche buns. I lick my lips in anticipation and catch him staring at me.
“I told you I have a long memory. I wasn’t lying.” He picks up his fork, a coy smile lingering on his face.
Staring at the piping hot dinner in front of me, I know I look like I haven’t eaten in days, which is clear by Preston’s amused expression.
“What? Don’t come between me and my BBQ chicken.”
Laughing, he forks into his own food.
It’s so delicious, I moan out loud, “God, Preston, this is fantastic.”
“If I knew this was all it took to have you moaning my name, I wo
uld have fixed it for you a long time ago.”
Another hot flash spreads across my chest, and the room turns into a sauna. Taking both our empty plates to the sink, I discreetly fan myself as I bend over the basin. The wine paired with his sinfully dirty mouth has me turned on.
The energy in the room shifts and I feel him behind me, running his hands up my arms, leaving goosebumps. He pulls back my hair and presses a hot, searing kiss to my neck before dragging his teeth up to nip my ear. My pulse jumps, and I gasp, arching back into his broad chest.
“Preston,” I breathe out. I’m tired of fighting these feelings. My body is buzzing with anticipation, millions of tiny fireflies fighting for release.
He spins me around, lifting me up onto the island, situating his hard body in between my legs, gripping my hips. His forehead rests on mine, his own breathing erratic.
“If you tell me to leave, Savy, I will leave, but please don’t make me. I’ve wanted no one more than I want you. I can’t keep my hands off you any longer.”
I make my decision in an instant. Swirling my tongue in the shell of his ear, I whisper, “Then don’t.”
Those two words flip a switch, and he morphs into a feral animal, ready to devour his prey. His eyes burn with an intensity that I’m sure reflects in mine and our lips slam together with fiery fervor, liquifying us from the inside out. Teeth and tongues collide, and with every swipe and slash, there’s a surge of arousal, a wave of heat washing over me.
Preston’s hands tangle in my hair and I grip his ass, pulling him closer to me, my legs wrapping around his waist. There’s too much material in the way. I want—no, need—to feel all of him. I move my hands down to unbutton his jeans, but he quickly shoves them out of the way.
“No, baby, not yet. I’m taking care of you first,” he croons as he trails kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. I moan, feeling claustrophobic with all this clothing on. Sensing my growing need, he tugs my shirt off, flinging it to the floor. Reaching behind to unhook my lacy bra, he slides the straps down, exposing me, sucking one tight nipple into his mouth, lashing it hard with his tongue, pinching the other between his fingers. Pulses radiate out from my core, and I know it won’t take long for me to reach my climax. I grind myself on him, hearing him hiss as he pushes further into me, his erection straining against his jeans.
