by Taryn Quinn
I signaled and pulled over to the side of the road a bit back. It was probably mean I didn’t alert her to my arrival right away, but I was entitled after her unexpected disappearing act.
Her dark hair streamed behind her as she paced away then back a couple of times. Her mother stepped up to her and gripped her arms, saying something that made Ryan drop her head back to stare at the sky.
The brief glimpse of wet on her cheeks had me climbing out. Imagined or not, I wouldn’t make her hurt for even a minute more than necessary.
Never.
She turned to face me and her eyes went comically wide as she glimpsed me standing behind the open door of my borrowed SUV.
Then she started to run.
Stepping away from the truck, I caught her as she leaped into my arms, staggering under her weight as we collided into the side of the SUV.
“Shit, if we dent this thing—”
Her mouth was on mine before I could finish. Her tongue slid between my lips and my hands landed on her firm little ass to hold her tight to my instantly interested groin.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss. “Didn’t even need to—dammit, your mouth.”
“Umph.” It was all I could manage as I fought to keep hold of her and simultaneously thrust upward into her soft, unfortunately covered cleft.
A throat was repeatedly cleared nearby.
Neither of us cared.
“So, you must be Preston.”
“I hear a voice,” I muttered as Ryan drew my lower lip between her teeth.
“Ignore her. She’ll go away.”
“I certainly will not. I want to get a good look at him when you get done mauling him.”
Ryan slid her mouth along my jaw, dropping kisses as she went. “It’s gonna be a while. Go find Brock.”
That brought a modicum of clarity to my feverish brain. I managed to ease back. “Brock?”
“Her boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes and huffed a breath in my face. “You can put me down now.”
“You’re the one who leaped at me. You should be impressed I caught you.”
She studied me for a long moment before framing my face in her hands. “I missed you.”
This time, I was the one who kissed her. She smelled like a bonfire and tasted like summer and marshmallows and something sweet like wine.
Home and adventure, all rolled into one.
More throat clearing.
I finally made myself extricate my lips from hers. It was exceedingly difficult.
The part of me notched so intimately between her thighs agreed.
We were both panting. And when I set her down and she tripped, she didn’t even swear at me.
Either she’d thought I’d hit a misfortunate moose somewhere and was in a pile of rubble or she was about to pass out from oxygen loss. She didn’t let me off that easy ever.
I rubbed my sweaty hand on my hip and shut the door of the SUV before I held out a hand to Mrs.—well, Rainbow. “Ma’am, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Preston Shaw.”
Ryan circled her arms around my waist from behind and put her chin on my shoulder. “PMS. It’s just easier.”
I gave her a look and she nuzzled my jaw.
“Call me Rainbow.” She pumped my hand. “Pleasure is all mine. Not every day I get to meet my little girl’s special guy.”
“I should hope not.”
Ryan pinched my butt. I didn’t mind, but I had to tug my jersey down in an useless attempt to hide my erection.
Who didn’t want to meet his girl’s mom when he had a hard-on?
“Unfortunately, I can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you.” She glanced pointedly at her daughter.
“I was getting there.”
“I did hear you were looking for intimate comfort for the winter months. It does get chilly in these parts, doesn’t it?” She fanned her face, stirring the tendrils of honey-colored hair clinging to her neck. “Not today though. I need a fan directed right between my legs.”
Dear God.
Ryan mumbled something under her breath.
Maybe a prayer. I needed one too.
“I’m going to start making a bunch built to scale. Brock said he’d model.”
I went somewhere else in my head. A safe space.
“And then she can use a warmer as a sleeve for her pleasure wand too. I wondered why she’d leave it on the couch, but now it makes more sense.” Rainbow looked me up and down while I wondered if it was possible to be struck down by lightning when there was no storm on the horizon. “I can’t see why she’d need it with you, but toys can be fun!”
Ryan gripped my arms and towed me behind the SUV. “I need to chat privately with PMS. Be back soon.”
“Oh, okay. Calling dibs on the bed though,” Rainbow called after us. “Sorry, but Brock’s had a long day. I have extra headphones for PMS.”
I shut my eyes. “Two Moons calling me PMS. Thanks, Moonbeam.”
“Trust me, PMS is an improvement over what she called you when she first saw you.”
I did not want to know.
Ryan jabbed her finger into my chest. “You can’t be here. You have work in just a few hours. And even if you’ve quit, missing appointments isn’t like you. April is supposed to be back today.” She bit her lip. “Back to normal.”
I cupped her cheek. “What the hell is normal? I don’t want it. As for April, I’m not so sure about that. Did you speak to her tonight?”
Ryan frowned. “No, why?”
Quickly, I relayed what I knew. Her frown morphed into a smile. “Nah, that’s not April. She’s not a fling girl. She only has sex on the fifth date, every time.”
“Is it a Moon family policy to tell information others are not ready for and do not want?”
Ryan jerked a shoulder. “Probably. Just saying she didn’t bang your friend and split. And while using a fake name? That’s not my bestie.”
“How many best bishes do you have anyway?”
“One. Luna. April’s second tier.”
“How unfortunate.” I slipped my hands around her waist and drew her closer to bury my face in her windswept hair. Her honey and floral scent soaked into me like a song I’d never grow tired of. “What tier am I?”
“PMS—”
“I hated that you left. I wondered if I’d ever get to tell you how I felt.” I eased back to see her eyes were wide and wary and so dark in the deepest part of the night.
But she wasn’t running away. So, I wouldn’t either.
I rubbed my thumb over her lower lip. “I wanted to say this in sunlight. It seemed important somehow. But the moon is important for us too.” I glanced up at the crescent just visible through the clouds. “The moon brought you to me.”
“Preston…” She swallowed hard enough for me to hear.
“I love you. I don’t care if it’s too fast. If it doesn’t make sense to people who aren’t us.” I gripped her hand and brought it to my chest, holding it there where my heart beat out of control for her.
And would always.
“I meant it when I said I’d wait for you. I will. I won’t rush you. I’ll give you your space.”
Tears gathered on her lashes, so silently that I couldn’t even hear her breathing. But her fingers curled into mine.
“You can take a year or a lifetime to love me back. What’s time, right? Since a week can be forever.” I caught one of her tears on my thumb. “But I’m not promising I won’t ever prod or push. I’ll wait, but I’m impatient to live my life with you. So, maybe you can pick up the pace just this once—”
She grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me hard, feeding me her tears and her laughter and her need in equal measure.
Tangled with them all, I felt her love. She didn’t say it. She didn’t have to.
When she moved back, her eyes as bright as the light of the moon, I felt something else too.
I lifted my hand to the back of my head with a wince, and she shut her ey
es. “Whoops.”
“Will you still love me if I have a bald spot?”
She giggled and fisted her hands. “I’m wicked with a pair of clippers.”
“Then again, it might have just been a mosquito.” I slapped the side of my neck. “Damn summer. It’s hot as balls out here.”
“Try sleeping in the camper. I had to take off my bra and—” She noticed the gleam in my eyes and propped her hands on her hips. “Watch yourself or I’ll measure you while you’re sleeping for your Christmas gift.”
I yanked her against me once more. “Maybe it’s better if you give me room to…grow.“
She laughed helplessly. “I have so much to tell you, and now I’m thinking about your dick.”
Lightly, I rubbed against her. “I can assure you the admiration is mutual.”
“It’s about my art. I’ve been working on this comic.” She grinned. “And it’s kinda exciting.”
All at once, I forgot my libido. “Tell me. Now.”
She dragged me forward a few feet and glanced at the Airstream where her mother and a man I assumed to be Brock were now quite enthusiastically making out in the wide front seats. “Let me just get my stuff. Really, really fast.”
“You’re honestly ready to come home?”
“Dude, so much. Besides, I have to yell at you for scaring me senseless. I’m way overdue.”
Grinning, I smacked her perfect ass as she turned back toward the Airstream. “Yes, you’re egregiously late for that, Miss Moon.”
First Closing Argument
I brought my tea mug with me to look out at the endless green of Preston’s property. I couldn’t say it was a hardship for the nights I stayed over—which, to be honest, was most nights.
PMS was very persuasive when it came to finding ways to get me out of my dresses each evening. And yoga pants. And my favorite boxer shorts I’d started stealing.
Non-worn ones, thanks. I didn’t need man funk on my lady parts. There was a distinct difference between getting wild and naked and borrowing someone’s underwear.
However, in his very Preston way, he had backup packs in his handy dandy accessory panel. You know, the kind that only rich people had. I was a sucker for hidden spaces of any kind and when I’d been snooping—sue me—I’d found his boxer stash.
Now my stash.
Which I was wearing right now with the dress shirt I’d stolen off the chair in his bedroom. I’d had to roll up the sleeves like crazy because his arms were ridiculously long, but I was officially a fan of the richie rich finery from his closet.
I wouldn’t tell him that of course.
And to be truthful, I really liked his long arms. Especially when he decided to do his workouts with his new rowing machine.
Hello.
Watching him do that full row with all the muscles moving and shifting under his tanned skin? Yeah, sign me up for that daily workout. Well, to watch it anyway.
Then again, he definitely enjoyed my yoga workouts. However, he wasn’t exactly the bendiest guy in that regard. He’d tried hard to do some beginner poses, but in the end, we decided to play to our strengths.
It didn’t stop him from setting up half of his workout room with yoga supplies for me. In fact, he kept doing little things that made my heart turn over.
Smoky leaped onto the kitchen table by the window.
“Well, hey there. PMS is going to freak if he sees you on the table.” But I simply stroked a hand down his smooth fur. His motorboat of a purr rolled out and made me smile. He went onto his back legs and waved his paw at me.
“Shameless.” But I leaned down so he could leap on my shoulder, his favorite place to be. He settled into the crook of my neck and butted his head against my jaw. Little devil. I scratched under his chin and fixed the pile of papers he’d scattered.
I paused as I realized it was my contract, the one that had a whole lot of red pen marks in Preston’s slashing handwriting. Penn Masterson had sent it over the other day after he got my first batch of sketches.
Sylvia and Roz officially had a new roommate—Smoky, the tripod cat.
Our cat was a budding comic star. I rubbed my cheek against the purring furbaby, already snoozing on me.
And now that I had a lawyer in my back pocket, who just happened to have a startling ability to research and assimilate anything—namely entertainment law or his new obsession, family law—I had someone looking out for me.
I was getting used to the idea.
It was weird and wonderful, even if I didn’t quite know what to do with it most days.
“Did you make enough for both of us?” His voice rumbled behind me just before his big hand slid under my shirt to find skin.
I sipped from my mug and nodded toward the teapot his mother had gifted to me when we’d gone to the tarot festival a few weeks ago.
“I’m not sure what kind of magic you add to your tea, but I ordered more of this stuff for our new office.”
“Your office,” I corrected him.
“Mmm.”
I rolled my eyes. I was not going to be working for him again. I wasn’t.
I was pretty sure.
I lifted Smoky off my shoulder and settled him on one of the chairs at the table. We’d stashed one of his half-dozen cat beds there so he could sit with us when we ate our meals. Because of course Preston wasn’t the kind of guy to eat on the couch like I usually did.
Smoky huffed out a sigh and settled after I gave him another few pats.
“I saw the contract.”
“Masterson can do a lot better than that boilerplate nonsense.”
“I’m an unknown, PMS.”
“It doesn’t matter. You have a year’s worth of drawings—”
“They have to be tweaked with Smoky. They’re not all done.”
He blew on his tea in the llama mug I’d given him. I couldn’t stop grinning especially since he was wearing the matching llama sleep pants I’d bought for him. Then again, the ripple of abs shifting as he leaned against the counter made just about anything appetizing.
“Hungry?”
His dark eyes went all heavy-lidded sexy times. “Always.”
“I need sustenance first.”
“Protein?”
I drilled a finger into those distractible abs. “Maybe later, ace.”
He lifted his mug for a sip. “Suit yourself.”
I went around him to the fridge and found the fixings for my version of Moons Over My Hammy. It was our favorite Sunday treat. Sometimes in the middle of the week too when PMS was feeling wild. Or sometimes a midnight snack after we needed a little fuel.
For such an uptight lawyer type, he had a very intense sex drive. I wasn’t complaining. I’d never actually been with a man who could keep up with me.
I set the broiler to preheat then started cracking eggs. PMS came up behind me, his hands slipping back under my-slash-his shirt once more. Long, warm fingers trailed over my midriff and down into my shorts. “Smells delicious,” he said against my ear.
“I haven’t started cooking yet.”
“Wasn’t talking about the food.” He nuzzled my ear, nipping the shell before kissing his way down my neck.
I shivered, then hissed out a breath as his very clever fingers found their way between my thighs.
“Are you really hungry?”
“Yes.” I had to concentrate on how to use a whisk. The man was ridiculously dangerous for my mental acuity.
The ultra soft cotton of his pants slid across the backs of my thighs, and a decidedly happy Preston was rapidly firming against my backside.
Hello, sir.
Deft fingers teased along skin that was still sensitive from his beard action last night before he dipped two fingers inside and tucked his palm against my clit. His other hand cupped one of my breasts.
“I love when you wear my clothes, but I wouldn’t mind if you left some of your own here.”
My brain short-circuited as pleasure and new data tried to merge. I dro
pped my head back against his chest as he flicked his thumbnail over my nipple while pulsing inside of me with his other hand. “Clothes?”
“Mmm-hmm. I made space in my closet, if that was something you were interested in.”
“Right.” I rolled my hips into his touch. “Wait? Room for what?”
“Your clothes, Ryan. Merging with mine. You know, in a closet kind of way.”
Another swipe from his thumb, then he gentled his touch until my skin was awash with the familiar buzzing of energy right before I started speaking gibberish ending in his name.
He lightly trailed his fingers away from my breast and down my belly. “Make sure you make a little extra. I worked up an appetite last night.” He slid his fingers out of me, nipping my neck before he licked them. “I’ll go grab a quick shower. Think about what I said.”
I gripped the counter. “Okay, good.”
Think about what? I was currently scrambled as the eggs in the bowl before me.
He walked away whistling as I relearned how words worked on the various packages in front of me.
I frowned down at the ham steak. Had he just asked me to leave clothes at his house?
I jumped as the oven beeped to let me know the broiler was ready. Well, that made two of us.
Damn him. He was always sneaky about nudging me into doing what he wanted. “Lawyers,” I muttered and put the ham steaks in to broil.
I washed my hands and heated a pan for the eggs just as my phone rang.
Since no one actually called me, I hurried over to make sure it wasn’t just a spam number. Surprised to see Luna’s name on the screen, I picked up and put her on speaker.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Ry? Are you home?”
I frowned and turned off the pan. It wasn’t like Luna to sound panicked. “No. I’m at Preston’s.”
“Oh.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No. Yes. Yes and no. Oh, goddess. One second.”
The phone clattered onto something. “Lu? Luna, are you okay?”
I heard water running and a groan before she came back on. “Ugh. I swear, I don’t have anything in my body to throw up, and yet it still keeps coming.”
“Oh, hell. Are you okay? Do you have the flu? I can come over and bring broth or stop at Georgia’s shop for supplies.” Luna’s superpower was making her own elixirs from our friend’s apothecary.
