by Karen Kincy
“Half an hour, give or take. It’s a scenic drive.”
She relaxes back into her seat. “Going to be my tour guide?”
I turn onto the road. “On your left, take note of the Black Herefords. Excellent specimens of the finest British cattle.”
A herd of cows huddles in the field, chewing cud and blinking away the rain.
She laughs. “And on my right?”
“Wolfenwold Wood, once known for its packs of wolves. Before they were hunted into extinction. Tragically.”
“Wow.” She slow claps. “You’re a great tour guide.”
“Wait until we hit the beach.”
“There’s a beach?”
I grin. “Before Eastbourne. It’s not half bad.”
“Can we go?” Cassia sounds so eager I’m tempted to pretend I’m taking her on a date.
“If we have time.”
She slouches in her seat and watches the fields go by. After several minutes, I turn on the radio and let music fill the silence.
26
Cassia
While listening to the radio, Bram taps out a beat on the steering wheel. Windshield wipers thump in time with the music. It’s some super peppy British rock band. I listen to harder rock than that, but I let him groove.
“Where have you been?” he says.
I glance at him. “What?”
He turns down the radio. “Have you explored much of England?”
“Not far outside of Oxford. I haven’t had the time or the transportation.”
“I’ll be your chauffeur. It’s the least I can do.” He flashes me a smile.
“God, Bram, you’re way too nice.” I poke him to show him I’m joking.
He gives me a stern look, a sparkle in his eyes. “Poking, tickling, and other forms of touching the driver are off limits.”
“Other forms?” I breathe. “You filthy hypocrite. You almost made me crash.”
Blushing, he coughs. “I’m innocent, I swear.”
“You don’t look like an innocent man.” I flick my eyebrows. “I love that guilty blush on your face. Your boner betrays you.” He grips the wheel one-handed and adjusts himself in his jeans. “Are you always hard?”
“Around you, yes.” His smirk looks more like a wince.
I rub the bulge behind his fly. “I want revenge.”
He sucks in a ragged breath. When I find his zipper, he swallows hard. “Don’t touch me like that while I’m driving.”
“I’ll be good.” I pinch him and lean back. “Until you pull over.”
He clears his throat. He seems to be having trouble concentrating. “If I pull over, we’ll never make it to Eastbourne.”
“True.” I sigh. “But you’re in big trouble later.”
His eyes narrow as he stares at the road. “Oh, am I?”
Rolling fields slant toward the sea until the grass breaks away into white cliffs of chalk. The water below the cliffs glimmers pewter. It’s nothing like the golden beaches of Los Angeles, but home is an ocean away.
“Let’s go swimming,” I say.
He gives me a crooked smile. “You brought a swimsuit?”
“Hell no. I want to go skinny dipping.”
His eyes smolder. He has more of an imagination than I gave him credit for, which isn’t helping his boner in the slightest. “There’s nobody on the beach in the rain.” I love how logical he has to be about everything.
“Do it. You know you want to see me naked and wet.”
With a laugh, Bram turns onto a road and follows it to the sea. He pulls off in the grass. We’re at a crack in the chalk cliffs, a narrow footpath leading down to the gray sand below. It’s not too far of a climb down.
Before the engine quiets, I unbuckle my seatbelt and jump into the rain. I’m getting wet anyway, so I wriggle out of my clothes and toss them into the Audi. I’m down to my bra and underwear when I see Bram staring at me.
He licks his lips as I strip naked. “Damn, you have dangerous curves.”
Still wearing my shoes, I take off running down to the beach. I hit the sand and kick off my shoes, then charge into the sea. Cold shocks my skin. A wave crashes over me and tugs at my legs. I shriek with laughter.
“Cassia!” Bram shouts, barefoot in the sand. That’s as naked as he got?
“Get your ass over here! You’re getting wet whether you like it or not.”
He peels his shirt over his head, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing, and sits down to strip off his jeans. I wade deeper into the ocean. Water licks my breasts and my nipples tighten until they ache. He strides toward me, naked, his cock pointing the way. I duck down and float, my hair swirling in the waves.
“Shit! That’s brisk.” When he wades in knee deep, I surge up and fling water over him.
He splutters and comes at me with vengeance in his eyes. “You’re going to regret that.”
“Sorry!” I’m laughing too hard to breathe. “I thought you needed a cold shower.”
He reaches for me, but I dive underwater and kick to the surface farther from the beach. My muscles crave the challenge.
“Cassia!” He reaches for me like a sailor who lost his ship. “Come back.”
I tread water and stick out my tongue. “Come get me.”
Bram isn’t a bad swimmer, his body lean and long. The waves carry me closer to shore. When he catches me halfway, he circles his arm around my waist and crushes me in a kiss. His lips taste like saltwater; his hard cock throbs against my thigh. I groan at the intensity of him and wish he could fuck me bare.
But I’m not adding that mistake to my track record.
“You’re coming with me,” he says.
“I hope that’s an innuendo,” I purr.
Water trickles down his chest and darkens his hair. He drags me to shore like he’s going to ravage me right here and now. I’m on board for some ravaging. Bodice ripping, if I weren’t already skinny dipping.
“I thought we were done with fucking outside,” I say.
“This isn’t fucking. This is making love.”
I want to tease him about how serious he sounds, but he kisses me breathless.
“Wait.” He drapes his shirt across the beach for a blanket and takes his wallet from his jeans. I watch him roll on a condom. God, he’s so hard. I’m not sure I’m wet enough for him. Why does this feel like my first time?
He nudges me down until I’m lying back on the beach, my hair tangled. He kisses me as if my lips taste like ambrosia. Rain falling on my upturned face, I close my eyes and melt beneath him. My heart aches so hard my throat tightens in response. Kissing my neck, he moves lower, his tongue licking my nipple.
I shiver and grip his hair. “Bram.”
He glances at me between my breasts. “Yes?” His voice is husky.
“I like the cocktail, but I’m not sure about actual sex on the beach.”
“Why?”
“Sand,” I say, which is a quick excuse.
Rain slicks his hair and trickles onto my stomach. I curl my toes, crunching the grit. “I won’t let it hurt you,” Bram says, jokingly, though there’s a serious look in his eyes. It’s the serious look that scares me.
I haven’t felt this way since—
No. Try to forget.
He holds himself on his elbows and circles my clit with his thumb. I gasp and tense my thighs. “Your hands are cold.”
“Is this better?” He bends and licks the length of me.
I shudder, my pussy aching for more, and grip fistfuls of his hair. He licks he me again, sliding his tongue along me, lingering on my clit.
It’s so good, it’s torture.
I groan. “I appreciate you going down on me, but making love better include cock.”
He smirks at me.
I decide to take matters into my own hands and crawl away on my elbows to escape his evil smile. “Kiss me.”
Bram sits back on his heels and I kiss him myself. He tastes like me. I hook my hand behind his neck, d
ragging him down, and we fall to the beach together. When I arch my hips and grind against him, he grunts and thrusts almost involuntarily. His cock strokes against my clit, triggering shockwaves of pleasure.
“I want you inside me,” I whisper against his lips.
He holds me by my hips and drives deep into me. I cry out at the sudden sensation. He’s so incredibly hard.
“Oh, God,” he says, his voice strained, and he slides out again.
I dig my fingernails into his ass, urging him on, but he insists on thrusting slowly, sweetly. “Fuck me harder.”
“No.” He halts, his cock throbbing in me. “This time we do things properly.”
I glare at his shoulders. “You’re fucking me one way or another. Hard and fast, or slow and sweet, it’s still fucking.”
He glances into my eyes. “It means more to me.”
What does it mean to him? I’m afraid to ask him with his cock inside me and his heartbeat so close to mine.
“I’ll warn you,” I say. “Slow and sweet doesn’t really get me off.”
His eyes narrow. They’re the color of the troubled sea. “This isn’t about getting off. I’m not some glorified dildo.”
I laugh, then see how hurt he looks. “Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, I—”
Bram kisses me like that answers everything. He slides deeper until I take the length of him. I clutch his ass in both hands. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and the muscles in his ass clench as he thrusts harder.
I can feel the tension building inside him. The emotion.
My skin tingles with electricity. I’m shaking under him, but he kisses me and strokes into me until I finally let go of my fear.
It won’t hurt me to feel this. To feel him.
My skin tingles, hyperaware of his body against mine. I blink back inexplicable tears.
“You’re so lovely.” He says it with such honest devotion I smile. He halts, breathing hard. “I can’t last much longer.”
“How polite of you,” I whisper.
When I slap his ass, his balls tighten up. His thighs shake with tension. I circle my hips, and he lets go, pumping into me, throbbing so hard it pushes me over the edge. The orgasm hits me in a tsunami of pleasure. I choke out a strangled cry, riding the slow waves, and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
“Cassia,” he says softly. “Let me take care of the condom.”
I suck in a breath. His sweat smells fantastic. I’m still gripping his ass, my legs snaked behind his to keep him close, and I untangle myself to let him pull out. My pussy hates to lose him. “That was... surprising.”
“Oh?”
“Less sand than I expected.”
Bram laughs and shakes his head. It’s still raining, and water clings to his eyelashes.
“You’re so hot,” I say dreamily.
He smiles, though it’s skeptical. “It’s rather cold outside.”
“You would be sexy in the Arctic. But sex on the snow would be a really bad idea.”
“Someday we can try freezing our extremities.”
I snort. “I like your extremities too much.”
We both look at each other, then laugh.
When he lies down, I rest my head on his chest. “There probably won’t be a someday.”
He says nothing for a moment. “We should drive to Eastbourne.”
“Workaholic.”
“You lured me down to the beach.”
“For your own good.” I poke him in the stomach. He laughs and protects himself with his hands. “Now we’re all wet.”
“The Audi has heated seats.”
“Does it?” I jump to my feet. “Sold.”
He stands behind me and cups my breasts. “You should go without a bra more often.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve already been arrested once for public indecency.”
“Have you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do. And you can wear a blouse without a bra.”
“Nice try.”
I dust the sand from my hands. I’m not too dirty, if you don’t count the ways I want to fuck Bram again. I climb to the top of the cliffs, my thighs aching from the exercise. If I keep this up, I won’t be able to walk.
Back at the Audi, I drag my clothes over my damp skin. Wind drives rain into my eyes.
Shivering, I hop into the car. Bram starts the engine and presses a button under my seat. The leather warms beneath my butt.
“Oh my God,” I say. “I love your car. Can I marry you and steal it?”
He snorts. “Prenup.”
I lean across and cling to his arm. “Baby, buy me a giant diamond and my own Audi.”
He shakes me free with feigned disgust. “Back, woman!” He crosses himself.
“Too late.” I laugh. “I seduced your sexy ass.”
“My ass?” he says delicately.
“Okay, so I seduced all of you.”
He meets my gaze, half of a smirk on his face. “What are your evil plans?”
“Besides the diamonds and cars? I haven’t decided.”
“Since when did one diamond become plural?”
I grin. “Bitches love diamonds. Buy me some of that shit to win my undying love.”
He clears his throat, his cheeks red. “I’d rather not buy your love.”
My heart soars heavenward, but I drag it back to earth. “That’s so romantic,” I say, as sarcastically as possible.
He flashes me a smile. “Isn’t it?” He shifts to drive and hits the road.
27
Bram
This trip to Eastbourne should be strictly business, but I can’t think of Cassia that way. How are we going to work together?
Damn it, I’m in deep trouble.
The fields around us yield to houses on the outskirts of Eastbourne. We can’t be far from the heritage rose society.
I fish my phone from my pocket and hand it to Cassia. “Can you navigate?”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“I already entered our destination.”
“It says we’re ten minutes away.” She’s silent for a minute. “God, I’m a genius.”
“Why?”
“I’m giving you my number. For booty calls.”
I laugh. “Booty calls?”
“Random hot sex. The best kind.” She smirks; the phone buzzes. “You have a text from Grace. She’s your sister, right?”
I grimace. “Yes.”
“She sounds pretty pissed.”
“You read the text?”
“Sorry.”
I sigh. “What does it say?”
“I’m here at Wolfenwold,” she reads. “Taking the day off yet again?”
“Sounds like Grace.” I grip the steering wheel. “She can’t resist competition. I’m sure she wants to take over my job.”
“What exactly is your job?”
“Local infrastructure specialist. Technically.”
“That sounds extremely boring.”
I laugh. “It can be.”
“Why not quit?”
“I do what’s best for the family business.”
Cassia glances sideways at me. She doesn’t look like she believes me. “Turn left.” I round the corner and travel down a narrow lane. Townhouses crowd the street. “One more block. There. That has to be it.”
I slow to a stop outside a townhouse. Roses clamber over the bricks and overflow from the tiny yard in the front.
“Cross your fingers,” she says.
A blonde woman in a pink sweater answers the door. “Hello?”
“Good morning,” I say. “Are you Ann Stewart of the Sussex Heritage Rose Society?”
She eyes me warily. “Yes, and you are?”
“Bram Winterbourne.” I offer my hand. “I’m here about Wolfenwold Hall.”
Ann thins her lips. “Oh, so you’re the one tearing that place apart.”
And we’re off to a flying start.
I try to stay polite. “The renov
ations include the gardens.”
“We want to save the roses,” Cassia says. “Autumn Damask, Seven Sisters, Burgundian Rose, dozens more cultivars.”
Ann’s eyes sharpen. “The Society may be interested in acquiring select cultivars.”
“Do you have a moment to talk?” I say. “We would very much like to discuss the possibility of a working partnership.”
“Working on what?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Preserving the gardens at Wolfenwold Hall.”
Smiling thinly, Ann steps back. “The Society doesn’t have the resources for a project of that magnitude. I suggest you solicit elsewhere.”
I catch the doorknob. “The gardens are scheduled for removal.”
“That’s your business, isn’t it? Good day.” She shuts the door in our faces.
Cassia glares at the doormat. “Well, shit,” she mutters.
I let my breath escape my lungs. “Come on.”
I walk back to the Audi and duck into my seat. She sits by me and clenches her hands in her lap. We say nothing as we drive out of Eastbourne. Fields unfold alongside the road while rain patters on the windshield.
“What a failure,” she says.
I can’t think of a joke to lighten her words. “We aren’t out of options.”
“Aren’t we?”
I grit my teeth and stare out the windshield. She’s right. I’m a failure. I’m supposed to be overseeing Wolfenwold Hall, and I can’t even convince anyone to do what I want. Not without the numbers needed to prove myself.
Shit. I need to sit down and do the work.
The taste of a dirty penny stains my mouth. “Not again.”
“Bram?”
“Please, not again.” I slam on the brakes. The Audi skids to a halt.
“Bram!” She stares at me. “What the fuck was that for?”
Fear floods my blood with adrenaline. Acid rises in my throat. I swallow back the nausea, but I can’t shake the dread.
Because there’s no way to fight what happens next.
I stagger out of the car just as my knees buckle. Cassia keeps calling my name, but I’m tumbling down into oblivion.
28
Cassia
Bram walks three steps from the car before he collapses. The moment he hits the ground, every muscle in his body stiffens.
I run to him. He flings back his head and starts to convulse. “Oh, God, no.”
