Insatiable Hunger

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Insatiable Hunger Page 17

by Yahrah St. John


  Jessie rocked her hips back and forth, teasing him, but it was her body that reacted swiftly and her inner thighs tightened around him in anticipation.

  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to have you now.”

  “Go ahead,” she murmured. “Have me.” She lifted off him long enough for Ryan to reach underneath her dress and snatch the scrap of silk she’d been wearing. He tossed it on the deck. Then he was unbuttoning her shirt dress and pushing aside her bra. Jessie felt a gust of air on her nipple just before Ryan sucked it into his mouth. She shivered and moaned.

  When he lifted his head, he stopped long enough to admire her breasts. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

  “You make me feel beautiful.” And he did. She felt like the sexiest woman alive in his arms.

  “I don’t have a condom.”

  “It’s okay,” Jessie slid one from the pocket of her dress.

  “You naughty nymph.” Once again, she’d come prepared to play.

  Jessie grinned wickedly. “I hoped it wasn’t the end of us. And I’m so glad I was right.”

  She helped him don the protection and then she guided him to where she wanted him. She impaled herself and rode him while Ryan sucked her nipples, taking his time to worship them with his mouth and tongue. Jessie melted into Ryan’s hard chest and, though she wanted to ride him to swift peak, he was caressing her where they were joined.

  He explored and incited her until a wave of pleasure so mighty and all-consuming engulfed Jessie and she broke while Ryan shouted his culmination. They tumbled back to earth, clinging to each other in the aftermath.

  * * *

  Ryan awoke with Jessie spooned tightly against him. Last night had been extremely gratifying and it was because they’d reinvented the Kama Sutra into the wee hours of the morning. They’d been so greedy for each other after a week apart, they’d stayed up half the night devouring one another. But eventually, he’d fallen into a peaceful sleep.

  Awakening this morning, Ryan realized he had everything he could ever ask for. The woman he loved, loved him back. She’d chased after him, tracked him down to the Hamptons and revealed she was truly, madly, deeply in love with him. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He’d wanted this for so long, for a moment he’d thought it had been a dream. But after closing his eyes tightly and reopening them, Jessie was still there wrapped in his arms.

  It meant everything to him that Jessie made him a priority. It was a heady thought to think this beautiful, smart, independent woman was truly his. He stole a kiss, but when he did, her eyes popped open.

  “Good morning,” he said, glancing down at her sleep-deprived face.

  “How long have I been asleep?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “Not long. I think I tired you out.” He kissed the side of her neck then took her earlobe between his teeth. He reached for her breasts and they swelled in his hand.

  “No fair, you know that’s my sweet spot,” she said breathily.

  “Really? I thought this was...” He slid himself down her body so his face was between her moist folds. Then he swiped his tongue back and forth.

  “Oh God,” she cried out, but Ryan continued sucking, prodding and kissing her intimately until shudders racked her body.

  A few moments later, Ryan moved upward, utterly satisfied with his handiwork, and looked at Jessie. He liked seeing her satiated and completely uninhibited. He knew how lucky he was and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize what they’d built.

  “I got the job with Black Crescent.”

  Jessie sat upright, pulling the sheet to cover her breasts. “I see.” She nodded. “I know how important this is to you and that you need to do what you think is right. So I want you to know, I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

  “You will?” Ryan was taken aback. From the moment he’d mentioned it, Jessie had been dead set against his taking the job and he’d understood. Vernon Lowell’s greed, and therefore Black Crescent, was the cause of her family’s hurt and pain.

  “Yes. Part of loving you is loving all of you, including what’s important to you. And if you feel strongly that you can make a difference and turn the company around, then I’ll stand by you.”

  “Jessie, you’ve no idea what this means to me, but I turned down the job offer.”

  Jessie’s eyes grew bright with unshed tears. “You did?”

  “I turned it down as soon as they made the offer last night.”

  “Last night? We weren’t even together. Why would you do that?”

  He gazed at her tenderly. “Because I will always put you first, Jessie, whether we’re together or not.”

  Jessie caressed his cheek. “How did I ever get lucky enough to find you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe thank your parents for moving next door?”

  Jessie laughed at him. “I love you so much, Ryan. But I only want you to turn down this job offer with Black Crescent if you want to. I’d never want you to look back and resent me for holding you back from your dreams.”

  “You’re my dream,” Ryan stated swiftly. “And I don’t want to spend another moment apart from you.” He lowered himself to the floor by the bed in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” Jessie asked, clutching the sheet to her chest.

  Ryan knelt on one knee and reached for her hand. “Jessie Acosta. I have loved you since I was six years old. I love your beauty, spirit and passion and there’s no one else in the world for me, but you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  “Yes, yes!” Jessie leaped into his arms and Ryan fell backward onto the floor, taking Jessie with him. “I love you, and I can’t wait to be Mrs. Ryan Hathaway.”

  Epilogue

  “Welcome to the fold,” Marilyn Hathaway told Jessie when she and Ryan arrived at the Hathaways’ annual July Fourth barbecue the following year.

  She and Ryan had been married three weeks ago. It had been a small, intimate ceremony on the beach at Adam’s Hampton house. His best friend had not only allowed them use of the house for the wedding, but had stood as Ryan’s best man. Jessie’s bestie, Becca, had been her maid of honor. Both Ryan and Jessie’s parents had been in attendance. They’d only recently come back from honeymooning in Hawaii.

  Ryan had booked them a villa with an infinity pool and stunning lagoon. Most of their time had been spent making love in the palatial master bedroom. Though they had, eventually, ventured out into the resort to eat delicious tropical meals, drink wine, swim in the pool or snorkel in the ocean.

  “Thank you, Mom,” Jessie said, responding to his mother before she departed to tend to other guests. Marilyn Hathaway had refused to allow her to call her anything else and Jessie didn’t mind it one bit, especially since she wasn’t close with her mother at the moment.

  Since her mother’s revelation of her long-standing affair with Jack O’Malley, their relationship had been strained. It was hard for Jessie to come home knowing everything she’d ever believed was a lie. She did visit, but they usually stayed with the Hathaways to avoid any awkwardness. If her father had noticed, he’d never said anything. Jessie suspected he knew something was wrong between her and her mother, but he didn’t pry.

  Jessie was thankful because, although she didn’t agree with her mother’s behavior, she refused to be the person who broke up their marriage and forced her father out of the only home he’d ever had. And so she’d kept her mouth shut. Though her mother had recently shared with Jessie that she’d ended her affair with Jack O’Malley, much to his chagrin, Jessie didn’t know whether she had done it for Jessie or for herself. Regardless, she’d taken her at her word that it was over.

  “Is everything okay, babe?” Ryan said from her side. “You looked like you were somewhere else.”

  “I’m sorry. I zoned out for a minute.” Jessie shook her head, trying to shak
e off any negative vibes. Today was a day for enjoying her new family—and, besides, there was one more in the Hathaway clan now. Monica, Ryan’s older brother Sean’s wife, had had a baby girl a couple of months ago, and everyone in the family was excited and fawning over the newest addition. The seven-pound baby was a pure delight.

  It made Jessie want to make some babies of her own with Ryan someday, but only after they had a couple of years to enjoy each other.

  “Well, whatever is troubling you, you know you can talk to me, right?” Ryan whispered.

  “I know.” And she did, Ryan had always been her rock. That would never change. In fact, Jessie would say their connection was stronger because he was her husband. She knew he would protect her and vice versa. On the beach in the Hamptons, when she’d said her vows to love, honor and protect him, she’d meant them.

  “Good, so let’s join the family. I think everyone’s ready for a game of charades.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Jessie grabbed his hand as he led her toward her new future; a fulfilling life with a loving husband and his family. It was a life she hadn’t known she wanted, but now that it was here, Jessie couldn’t think of any place she would rather be.

  * * *

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  Insatiable Hunger by Yahrah St. John

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  Untamed Passion by Cat Schield

  Slow Burn by Janice Maynard

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  One

  Max Abbott had a king-size headache and a serious case of jet lag. After spending seven days in Vegas on a business trip that ended with the three-day-long bachelor party of a college friend, he was grateful to be back in Magnolia Lake—his small Tennessee hometown nestled in the Smoky Mountains.

  He’d drunk way too much and slept far too little. And this morning, his thirtysomething body was clearly protesting his twentysomething antics over the weekend.

  Max was the marketing VP of King’s Finest, his family’s world-renowned distillery. So he usually made a point of arriving in the office ahead of his team. But today he was so exhausted he could barely see straight. If it hadn’t been for his father—Duke Abbott, the company CEO—calling an emergency meeting this morning, he would’ve stayed home and slept it off.

  Instead, he lumbered into the office still wearing his Saint Laurent shades at ten thirty—half an hour before the scheduled meeting. Just enough time to check in with his assistant.

  “Good morning, chief.” Molly Halloran glanced up from typing furiously on her keyboard.

  He removed his shades, squinting at the light pouring in from the nearby windows.

  “Sheesh!” she exclaimed in a voice reminiscent of Lucille Ball’s in I Love Lucy. “Must’ve been some weekend.”

  “It was.” Max parked his butt in the chair in front of Molly’s desk, not willing to expend the additional energy to take the dozen or so steps to his office. “And good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

  “Can I get you some coffee? You’re going to need it if you don’t want to look like the stiff in Weekend at Bernie’s the rest of the day.” She bounced out of her seat and moved toward the coffeemaker before he’d even grunted his response.

  Molly’s brutal honesty was one of the reasons he valued her so much. And if it caught him in the chin with a right hook every now and again, so be it.

  He pulled out his phone and checked his text messages and email to see if anything pressing required his attention.

  There was nothing that couldn’t wait until he was fully conscious, which, at this rate, might be in a day or two.

  Max thanked Molly when she handed him a black mug engraved with the white King’s Finest Distillery logo. He set his phone on her desk and wrapped his hands around the warm cup, inhaled the fragrant black liquid and took his first sip of coffee of the day. He released a small, contented sigh, his eyes drifting closed momentarily.

  “We’ve got twenty minutes to go over everything.” She tapped on the fitness wearable on her wrist. “That takes into account the five minutes you’ll need to walk to the conference room.”

  Brutally honest and extremely efficient.

  “Fine.” He took another swig of coffee, set his mug down and opened the notes app on his phone. “Shoot.”

  “Your father is being tight-lipped about this meeting.” She lowered her voice, her blue-gray eyes shifting away from him. “But last week, while you were gone, he asked me and Emily to compile everything you and Zora had on your proposal to add fruit brandies to the KFD lineup.”

  That woke him up more than the bulletproof coffee had.

  Three years ago, his grandfather, Joseph Abbott, the founder of King’s Finest Distillery, had proposed that the company begin making fruit brandy. His father had been opposed. In a compromise, they’d spent a small mint to set up separate stills and bring in a brandy distiller. The company began experimenting with making small batches of fruit brandy, using the excess, overly ripe fruit supplied by his grandfather’s best friend, who owned an orchard just outside of Knoxville.

  The brandy they’d produced was damn good. So for the past two years, Max and his sister, Zora, the company’s VP of sales, had been trying to convince their father to move forward with bringing a KFD brandy to market.

  His father agreed that the quality was outstanding. Still, he hadn’t been ready to commit to expanding the company’s basic product line beyond the limited-edition moonshines they’d rolled out in honor of the company’s jubilee three years ago.

  He would pick the day I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck to discuss this.

  “Print me a copy of everything you have on—”

  Molly shoved a binder with colored tabs in his direction. “That’s everything. Oh, and I took the liberty of updating the projected sales numbers. I also created a quick summary of the key selling points. It’s on page one.”

  Note to self: get Molly that limited edition Star Wars electric pressure cooker she’s been eyeing for her birthday.

  She finished briefing him on the materials, then urged him in the direction of the conference room, armed with a fresh cup of coffee, promptly at five minutes to eleven,.

  At least now he more closely resembled a fully functioning human being.

  Max entered the room and slid into his usual chair beside Zora.

  “Glad you could join us,” his sister whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. “I thought we might need to send someone to revive you.”

  “Ha-ha.” He didn’t look in his sister’s direction. Instead, he focused on the older man seated on the other side of the table whose snow-white hair and beard contrasted his dark brown skin. “Good morning, Mr. Bazemore.”

  “Morning, Max.” A wid
e smile spread across Dixon Bazemore’s face as they both rose to their feet and shook hands. The old man had been the owner of Bazemore Orchards longer than Max had been alive. “Good to see you, young man.”

  “You, too, Mr. B.” Molly’s instincts about the reason for the meeting had been right. Why else would Dixon Bazemore be here? Still, he asked, “What brings you to see us today?”

  “We’ll go over everything during the meeting,” Max’s father interjected. “We’re waiting for one more person.”

  Max glanced around the table. All of the members of the executive committee were present. His grandfather and father. His brothers Blake and Parker, the operations VP and CFO, respectively. Blake’s wife, Savannah—the company’s events manager. Zora, him and his father’s admin, Lianna, who was there to take notes.

  “Who are we—”

  “I’m sorry. I got a little turned around finding my way back here from the parking lot. But I’ve got your portfolio, Grandad.”

  Max snapped his attention in the direction of the familiar voice. He hadn’t heard it in more than a decade, but he would never, ever forget it. His mouth went dry, and his heart thudded so loudly he was sure his sister could hear it.

  “Peaches?” He scanned the brown eyes that stared back at him through narrowed slits.

  “Quinn.” She was gorgeous, despite the slightly irritated flare of her nostrils and the stiff smile that barely revealed her dimples. “Hello, Max.”

  The good to see you was notably absent. But what should he expect? It was his fault they hadn’t parted on the best of terms.

  Quinn settled into the empty seat beside her grandfather. She handed the old man a worn leather portfolio, then squeezed his arm. The genuine smile that lit her brown eyes and activated those killer dimples was firmly in place again.

  Max had been the cause of that magnificent smile nearly every day that summer between his junior and senior years of college when he’d interned at Bazemore Orchards.

 

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