Bayside Passions (Bayside Summers Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  “You didn’t. He did this. Not you.”

  He kissed her softly, and though she tried to pull away, he held her tighter, kissed her deeper, soothing and exciting her at once. His grip loosened, and his fingers tangled in her hair. And in that moment, Dean’s warm comfort eased the tension in her chest, and she gave herself over to their kiss. He sighed against her lips, a long, deep breath that filled her lungs, as if he needed to feel her love as much as she needed to feel his.

  Their lips parted slowly, and he pressed a series of tender kisses over her mouth, cheeks, and forehead. When his lips brushed over hers again, he whispered, “I love you, Emery, and I’m not going to let you go.”

  His father had somehow used her to get to him, and that gutted her, but if she’d ever been certain of anything in her entire life, it was that she didn’t want to lose Dean. She pressed a kiss to his chest and gazed up at the man who had seen the real her and loved her anyway. “I love you too, with my whole heart. And I’m not going to let you go either, but we can’t pretend that whatever took place in there didn’t happen.”

  “You love me!” He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, whispering, “She loves me!”

  Laughter bubbled out with more tears. “I do. I love you. I love you so much, and I’m scared shitless that I’m going to fuck up your life.”

  “No, doll. The only thing you’re going to fuck is me—up, down, sideways, however you’d like.”

  She buried her face in his chest again, happiness and worries battling for dominance. When he lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers, happiness trampled those worries and she kissed him back.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “But before you make a decision about me moving back in, I just realized that I didn’t even get to say goodbye to your mother. She’s going to think I’m a lunatic for running out, and then she’ll hate me, too. You were right. I’m kind of chaotic.”

  “You’re my chaos, lover girl, and I wouldn’t want you any other way.” He took her in a sweet, languid kiss. “I have never had second thoughts about us, and I don’t now. Our house needs you in it.”

  “Even though—”

  Her words were lost on the soft press of his lips.

  “Even though,” he whispered.

  “Okay, but your mom…?”

  “My mother adores you,” he said calmly. “I’ll call her tomorrow and explain. But right now I need to get you away from all of this negativity. It’s not good for your mind.” He kissed her forehead. “Your body,” he said tenderly, and kissed the center of her breastbone. “Or your spirit.” He pressed his lips to the area above her heart, and she felt the shattered pieces of herself working their way back into place.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THE DRIVE HOME was tense and silent. Emery kept a death grip on Dean’s hand, her face turned toward the passenger window, while Dean relived the shitstorm that had taken place with his father. He’d tried so hard to be civil for all these years, but he was done dicking around. It infuriated him to think that Emery would back away, even for a second, because of his father.

  He parked in front of his cottage and cut the engine. Darkness enveloped them, save for the dusky moonlight sprinkling through the trees. He lifted Emery’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. When she didn’t turn to face him, his heart sank. She didn’t deserve any of this shit, and damn it, she needed to be in his arms.

  He stepped from the truck and came around to help her out, but when he opened the passenger door, she turned the other way.

  “Emery?”

  When she finally faced him, with tears sliding down her cheeks, every one of them slayed him anew. He gathered her in his arms and held her trembling body. “It’s okay, doll. I promise you’ll never have to face anything like that ever again.”

  Her shoulders shook. “It’s not that. I want to be enough for you, but I only know how to be who I am. I’m not highly educated, or from a wealthy family, or whatever else your father wants me to be, but…”

  “Shh, sweetheart.” He kissed her tear-streaked cheek, all of his protective instincts surging inside him. “You are more than enough. I don’t give two shits about any of that. You’re all I want. You must know that.”

  “I do,” she cried. “But it hurts knowing your father thinks…”

  He didn’t know for sure what his father had planned to say before he’d cut him off, but he was fairly certain he’d read his message clearly. “He was commenting about me and what he wanted for me. He wants me to make a mark for myself in the medical field, and he thinks to do that I need a woman who doesn’t make waves and won’t distract me. Which is crazy considering my mother has always spoken her mind. He called you intelligent, Emery. This isn’t about you not being enough. It’s about you being too much.”

  He brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb and kissed each damp cheek. “The important thing is that I don’t want to be that person, and I’ve been with women who don’t make waves.”

  “Diana?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been honest with you from the start. You know how I feel about my relationship with her.”

  “Nice enough, but boring,” she said, parroting what he’d told her before she’d moved there.

  “And…?”

  She sighed. “That you’d have clawed your eyes out if you’d stayed with her.”

  That brought a small smile.

  “You’re the only woman I want, Em. Headstrong, brilliant, willing to fight for the things you believe in, and full of energy so compelling, it radiates from your soul.” He touched his forehead to hers and said, “Don’t let him come between us.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  She nodded. “I just got my feelings hurt. It was very girly of me, and I didn’t expect it.”

  “I love girly you, and I’m sorry.” He guided her arms around his neck and slid a hand beneath her knees.

  “You’re not going to carry me,” she said as he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Dean…”

  “I think it’s time you stopped talking and let me love you.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her as he carried her up to the front door. He unlocked the door with one hand, kicked it open, and carried her inside.

  “That was pretty impressive,” she said as he used his back to push the door closed.

  He was glad she was no longer crying, and tried to keep things lighthearted. “You haven’t seen impressive yet.”

  “Mr. Masters,” she said as he carried her into the bedroom. “I believe I’ve seen your impressiveness before and found it quite enjoyable.”

  He set her on her feet, and when she reached for him, he guided her hands to her sides. “No hands, Emery. Tonight I’m going to love you so completely, you’ll never want to tell me not to love you again.”

  She reached for him again. “You don’t have to—”

  “Relinquish control and breathe, sweetheart.” He guided her hands back to her sides. “Find your inner calm.”

  She smiled and said, “When did you become the teacher?”

  “Since I became an expert on all things Emery Andrews.”

  Her tongue slid across her lower lip, and a flush rose on her cheeks. “I think you like me taking control.” He was aware of every breath she took, the seductive darkness settling in her eyes, and the quickening of her breathing. He brushed his beard along her cheek and whispered, “Don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  She watched him intently as he stripped off his sport coat and tossed it onto the chair, sending the cats scampering out the door. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, stepping closer, mere inches from her, and stood, unmoving and silent, letting the thrum of desire drown out the hurt of the evening. He waited a full minute, maybe more, every silent second heightening the anticipation. When she reached for him, he caught her wrist. Her eyes flamed as he lowered her hand again.

  “Patience, beauti
ful.”

  He skimmed his fingers from wrist to shoulder, feeling goose bumps rise on her flesh. He did the same with his other hand as he lowered his mouth to her shoulder, tasting his way across her warm skin to the hollow of her neck. She was panting now, her chest rising against his, her nipples evident through the thin material of her dress.

  “I can taste the lust in your breath,” he whispered, and put his hands on her waist as he moved around her. His fingers grazed her stomach, feeling her quick inhalations as they slid over her waist to the backs of her hips. He kissed her shoulder. “I’m going to love all your hurt away.”

  He unzipped her dress slowly, stopping to kiss her toned, beautiful, braless back as it was exposed. Registering that she’d been braless all night ratcheted up his arousal to painful proportions. He couldn’t resist tracing her shoulder blade with his tongue. She reached behind herself, searching for him, and he grabbed her wrist again. Tighter.

  He leaned forward, putting his mouth beside her ear, and said, “Uh-uh, sweetheart. You’re not in charge right now.”

  Her fingers curled into a fist as he guided her hand back to her side.

  He finished unzipping her dress, and the sight of her simple white thong made his cock weep. He gathered her hair in his hand and wrapped it around his fist, tugging slightly as he sealed his mouth over the nape of her neck. She gasped, and he sucked harder, earning one of the addicting, sensual sounds he’d come to crave. He sank his teeth into her flesh, devouring her neck and shoulder, and pressed his other hand to her belly, so he could grind against her ass. She whimpered, leaning to give him better access, then lifting her shoulder when he took advantage. Good Lord, she was heaven and hell. She was his sin and his redemption. He tugged her hair, turning her face, and slanted his mouth over hers, taking and giving in equal measure. She moaned and writhed, but he kept her back pressed against his chest, her firm ass against his erection as he deepened the kiss. He plundered and explored until they were both ready to come undone. When he tore his mouth away, she moaned. Still gripping her hair, he pushed her dress down, and it puddled around her ankles. He kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear and sucked her lobe into his mouth as he slid his hand down her belly, pushed his fingers beneath the tiny patch of material, and dipped into her hot, wet sweetness.

  “Christ, Emery,” he ground out. “You’re so ready for me.”

  “Only for you,” she panted out.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded, and she crashed her mouth to his.

  Furtively seeking the spot that would make her lose her mind, he used his thumb to massage the slick bundle of nerves at her cleft and curled his finger inside her. She grabbed his wrist, keeping him where she wanted him, and he tore his mouth away again.

  “Don’t. Touch,” he reminded her.

  He wanted her blind with desire, and denying her would only add to her pleasure. She released his wrist and grabbed her outer thigh.

  “Your mouth, Emery. Give me your mouth.”

  She did. Fiercely. He ground his cock against her ass, feeling her slick channel clench with every rock of her hips. When he gave her hair a sharp yank, she cried out, and her hips bucked.

  “That’s it, baby. Come all over my hand. You’re so tight, so fucking sexy.”

  A stream of sensual sounds fell from her lips as she rode his hand. He selfishly kept her at the peak just to watch and feel her orgasm consume her. When she came down from the peak, shuddering and quaking, eyes closed, he eased his fingers from her heavenly sex. She was panting as he turned her face toward him again and said, “Let me see your beautiful eyes, Emery.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, soft and sated, and when he slicked his tongue along the length of his fingers, savoring her essence, her eyes bloomed wider.

  “I’m going to taste all of you tonight, baby, and you’re going to come everywhere. But right now I don’t want you to move.”

  He released her hair and toed off his shoes as he took off his tie and draped it over her shoulders. She reached for it and he narrowed his eyes, stilling her hand.

  “Dean,” she pleaded.

  “No hands.”

  He stripped off the rest of his clothes, and her gaze fell to his wrist. He followed her gaze to the leather necklace wrapped around his wrist, the two charms dangling just above his palm.

  “You’re wearing it,” she said with awe.

  “I wanted a piece of you with me. Do you mind?”

  She shook her head as a smile appeared, and love rose in her eyes. Dean’s heart squeezed at the emotions looking back at him. He kissed her softly. Then he hooked his fingers into the thin straps across her hips and slowly dragged her thong down to her ankles. She inhaled a ragged breath as he kissed his way up the back of her leg, slowing to love the crease at the top of her hamstring and each round globe. He spread her cheeks and licked his way south, the tight rim of muscles clenched against his tongue, earning a sexy-as-fuck moan. He slicked his tongue over her drenched sex, earning more sexy sounds. She spread her legs, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He rose to his feet and helped her step away from her dress.

  “I’ve got you, doll.” He kissed her neck and slid his fingers between her thighs, which were coated in her arousal. He stroked over her sex, and her eyes closed. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  “If I cross a line, stop me.”

  Her nod was almost imperceptible.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  Another nod, more vehemently this time.

  “Put your hands on the bed.”

  She hesitated only a second before pressing her palms to the bedcovers. She was stunning, standing in those fuck-me heels, her long legs spread for him and her gorgeous ass bared for the taking.

  He moved behind her again, rubbing his shaft along her sex, drenching himself in her arousal. She moaned, and he lowered his lips to her back, kissing her as he fondled her breasts, squeezing each tight nub as he slid the length of his cock along her swollen sex without entering her.

  “Legs together, doll. Squeeze me.”

  She pressed her legs together so tight he couldn’t stop “Aw, fuck” from tumbling out. “That’s it, baby, nice and tight.”

  He thrust his hips quicker and lowered one hand to her sex, teasing over her clit as he squeezed her nipple.

  “Oh God, Dean—”

  “That’s it, baby, come on my cock.”

  She fisted her hands in the covers as her climax gripped her. He stayed with her through the last pulse of her pleasure, and then he gripped the base of his shaft, squeezing hard to stave off his own release.

  “Dean,” she pleaded.

  He helped her upright and turned her in his arms, soothing his hand down her back. His tie still hung around her neck. “Too much?”

  “No.” An aftershock quaked through her, and her body jerked. “So good.”

  “Good, doll.” He slid the tie from around her neck. “Then do me a favor. Lie down on your back.”

  He helped her down to the mattress and drew her hands above her head. He settled his knees between her legs and dragged the silk tie along her breasts. She shivered, and her breath rushed from her lungs.

  “I want to bring you so much pleasure, you never doubt that you belong with me.” He teased the silk along her belly, around her glistening sex, over her thighs, until she bowed off the bed.

  “Dean, touch me. Please.”

  He came down over her and gazed into her beautiful hazel eyes. “Can you keep your hands to yourself? Or would you like me to bind them above your head?”

  She sank her teeth into her lower lip.

  “Does it scare you?”

  She shook her head. “Not with you.”

  She pressed her wrists together and lifted them off the mattress, presenting them to him. He bound them lightly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

  “I guess you’ve done this before?” she asked.

  Now he was the one to hesitate,
but only for a second as he considered what it might say about him if he was honest. Would she think he was inexperienced? Would she be disappointed? As quickly as that worry came, it dissipated, overrun by the need for honesty.

  “No,” he admitted. “But I want to do everything with you.”

  Relief swept across her features.

  He pressed her arms into the bed above her head and dipped his head, taking her in another insatiable kiss before loving his way lower. He circled her nipple with his tongue, drinking in every whimper, every arch and flex as he pleasured her. She bit her lower lip, eyes closed tight as he teased her other breast, then cupped both between his hands and grazed his teeth over one nipple, then the other.

  “Ohmygod,” came out in one long breath.

  He sucked one nipple into his mouth—hard. Her hips bucked off the bed, and he sank down against her sex, pulsing his hard shaft against her clit as he devoured her breasts.

  “Dean, I can’t take it,” she pleaded.

  He stilled. “Want me to untie you?”

  “No!”

  He felt himself grinning. “I know what you need, baby. I’m getting there.”

  But he was in no hurry. He continued lavishing her breasts with attention. Sucking and nipping, squeezing and gently biting. She wiggled and rocked, her heels digging into the mattress as a stream of sexy-as-fuck noises spilled from her lungs. When she was so turned on she was barely breathing, he moved swiftly and sealed his mouth over her sex. Her head rose off the mattress with another sinful noise. He splayed his hands over her trembling thighs and feasted on her, teasing and plundering, kissing and nipping, until she crashed back to the mattress and his name flew from her lips like a prayer—and then he loved her longer. Until she panted his name like a chant.

  “Dean, Dean, Dean—”

  He crawled over her and unwound the tie from around her slim wrists. “You okay, doll?” He rubbed her arms from shoulder to wrist, kissing as he went.

  “That was”—pant, pant—“amazing.”

  “We’re amazing, doll. Don’t ever doubt that.” He perched above her and aligned the head of his shaft with her entrance, gazing into her eyes.