"I've been looking for you around every corner for weeks." I lean my leg against the bed. "Every time my phone rang, I hoped it was you. I came here to escape that. I was so tired of worrying."
"I've let you down." He sweeps his hand across his brow. "I've let everyone down again."
"You're going back now." I point to his bag. "You should finish packing. The car Gabriel sent for you will be here soon."
"Will you call me when you're back in the city? You'll call me, right?"
"You need time to sort out things with your brothers." I start towards the bedroom door. "Once things have settled, call me and we'll talk."
Chapter 34
There's something wickedly decadent about shutting yourself off from the world. I've only been alone in the house for a few hours and I can sense the pull that Asher felt. Once he left, I'd called Clive to tell him that I wouldn't be back to the office until Wednesday. I shot off a short text message to Graham after that telling him to expect me back at home until mid-week and then I'd turned off my phone and tablet and buried them in a drawer in the guest room. I have my pick of rooms since the house is completely vacant but the familiarity of that room called to me. I had unpacked the few items I brought with me last night and had fallen asleep in that bed.
I break off a large chunk of bread before slicing some cheese and placing it all on a small, square plate. I pour myself a half a glass of the deep bodied red wine I bought yesterday. It's lunch for me and as soon as I'm done indulging my hunger, my plan is to head down to the beach to lie in the sun.
I take my snack outside to the large table that has always inhabited the west corner of the Foster's yard. We'd gather around this spot when we were children to wait for the dinners that the cook prepared for us. Miles and I were always hesitant to try new things, given the fact that our mother never ventured far off the baked chicken path. It was here, in this spot, that I found my love for fresh shucked oysters and charcoal grilled corn on the cob.
I sit in silence as I eat, pulling the clean air into my lungs. Sipping the wine slowly, not wanting to slip into the edges of feeling lightheaded or sleepy. I want to embrace the day and enjoy it.
"Rowan Bell?" A man's voice carries through the silence. "That's not you, is it?"
It's me but right now I wish it wasn't. I can feel eyes peering over the fence at me. I know who lives next door. It's Ian Handler. He was Caleb's best friend for years. He lived in the city too and each summer he'd catch a ride with the Fosters out to his family home here. I look to the left knowing that it's a move I'm going to inevitably regret. Apparently the universe is determined to spare me the luxury of having any time to myself this weekend.
"It is you." He smiles at me and his top teeth instantly pop into view. I remember vividly the way his two front teeth subtly overlap each other. There was one summer, when I must have been either thirteen or fourteen-years-old when I found his smile alluring. To be honest, I found everything about him appealing for a brief span of time. I see why when I look at him now. His face is still ruggedly handsome and his hair is now shorter, but still the same rich black that it was back then.
"Ian." I know I should stand but I don't. That would be a silent invitation for him to engage me in a conversation I don't want to have. "How are you?"
"I'm great." He pops out of view and I cringe. I know what it means. He's on his way to the gate that separates the two yards.
I finish the last mouthful of wine in my glass before I lick my lips, sweeping up any wayward droplets. I slide the linen napkin I found in the kitchen over my mouth and I ready myself for the bear hug I know is just seconds away.
"Rowan." As if on cue, he's standing no more than three feet away from me. "Come here and give me a hug."
I stand slowly, biding my time until I embrace him. I scratch the back of my neck before I pull on the hem of the short sundress I have on.
His arms are around me in an instant. I'm consumed with the scent of his skin. It's cologne inspired by the outdoors. He smells like a walk in the forest. It's strangely pleasant.
"You look exactly like I remember you." His voice is deep and gruff.
"You do too, Ian."
"Are you here with Asher?" He looks over my shoulder to the empty plate and wineglass sitting atop the dining table. "When I saw him yesterday he didn't say anything about you coming up."
It's an out that I know I shouldn't take but given the fact that I can feel the beginnings of an erection through the thin swim trunks he's wearing, I'm going to use his assumptions to my own advantage. "I surprised him. I arrived last night."
"I bet he's happy to see you." He leans back and my eyes involuntarily fall to the overwhelming bulge that seems to keep growing and growing. I pull my gaze back up quickly but not before he notices. "You're almost as hot as I remember you."
Thank you, I think?
"Speaking of hot," I begin before I let out a raucous fake laugh.
He doesn't even crack a smile.
""Speaking of hot," I repeat with a lot less enthusiasm this time. "I'm heading back inside. I'm not used to the sun."
"I'll come by later with some beers." He squeezes my arms. "It's so good to see you, Rowan."
"Good to see you too," I mumble under my breath as I make a beeline for the patio doors and the quiet serenity of the empty house.
Chapter 35
I smooth some of the scented lotion that Graham tossed into my suitcase over my legs. I'd soaked my body in a hot bath for more than an hour. The water may have been chilled by the time I got out, but the stress it pulled from me made it worth the discomfort.
I wrap the thin robe I found in the closet in my room around my body. The temperature dips when night falls in this part of the state, but even though I'm tempted to turn up the thermostat to blast some warm air into the space, I know that I'll sleep more soundly if I don't. I may even crack open a window in my bedroom so I can drift off listening to the silence that is never present in Manhattan.
I'd heard a loud knock on the front door when I was drawing my bath. At any other time, I may have invited Ian in to share a beer and if I wasn't so intent on focusing on myself this weekend, I may even have been tempted to jump into bed with him. It would have been nothing but a quick escape from my life and a way to feel the pleasure I've been longing for.
I doubt that I'll ever come back to this place after I leave it in a few days and that assurance makes the possibility of a rendezvous with Ian that much more appealing.
It's not who I am though. I've never had a one night stand and I don't see myself pursuing it now. I want more than that. I need it and once I'm back in New York I may actually reach out to that chef that Ivy wants to set me up with.
I glance at the clock on the bedside table and realize that it's barely past ten. My imagination had envisioned me sitting out on the patio at midnight with a glass of wine under the stars. My reality is that I'm too tired to even venture out of the room to turn off the lights in the hallway. I do the only thing I can. I slide the robe off my body, slide between the cool sheets and close my eyes.
***
I feel the warmth of the sun on the side of my face and I realize that it's morning already. It's been so long since I've slept through the night that I sigh loudly. I don't open my eyes as I kick the blanket and thin sheet off my body. I stretch out, indulging in the freedom of not having any restrictions at all.
I drank too much wine and too little water yesterday. My mouth is dry and I feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. I swing my long legs over the side of the bed and shiver when I feel the cool air wafting through the open window hit my back.
I reach blindly for the robe, knowing that I dropped it on the bed before I fell asleep. I find it and the moment I've pulled it around me, I feel better.
I take the wooden stairs slowly and cautiously. I'm still sleepy and in the middle of an unfamiliar house. I left my purse, with a vial of ibuprofen in it, in the living room.
Once I
down two pills with a half a bottle of chilled water, I brush my teeth wanting to rid my mouth of the dry feeling I woke up with. I glance at the clock that is hanging on the wall in the hallway. It's barely past six.
I walk back into my bedroom, tossing the robe onto the bed as I move past it. I stop at the window. I pull open the curtains just enough to see the view. It's not ideal but I can spot the ocean through the tops of the trees. It's nothing like the view from my apartment in Manhattan. This is everything that life in the city can't offer to me.
I inch backwards until I feel the bed behind me. I fall back onto the pillow and sleep consumes me almost instantly. I'm just falling into the throes of a dream when I hear a soft tap in the room. I don't open my eyes. It's the bottom of the blind that normally covers the window at night. I hadn't closed it because I wanted to wake to the sun.
I turn onto my back, allowing my mind to go blank, wanting sleep to grab hold of me for at least a few more hours but I hear the noise again. It's louder this time.
I tilt my chin up, pushing my head back into the pillow. I should have paid more attention during yoga class when the yogi spoke of shutting off the world and finding your center.
I feel a brush against my arm and this time my eyes fly open.
My heart races.
My breathing stops.
He's standing next to the bed.
His hair is a tousled mess. His jaw covered with stubble.
He looks dangerous, desirous and as his eyes rake over my body, I know that my life will never be the same again.
Chapter 36
I watch in silence as he pushes the dress shirt he's wearing from his shoulders. His hands work quickly on his belt and I can't take my eyes off of his body when he kicks free of his pants. I stare at his cock without any shame. It's beautiful. It's thick, long and hard.
He doesn't say anything as he slides into the bed next to me, pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his torso and bury my face in his neck.
His arms are around me; his hands cupping my bare ass. He sighs as I curve my body into his. I want him to touch me. I want him to kiss me. I want to feel him inside of me but most of all I want to breathe in the scent of his skin and listen to the beat of his heart.
"I can't stay away from you, Bell," he says hoarsely. "I can't do it."
I push my body into his, wanting to lessen the small amount of physical distance that still exists between us. "I don't want you to stay away."
"I'll hurt you." His voice cracks slightly. "It will kill me to hurt you."
"It won't happen." I turn my head so I can press my lips against the smooth skin of his muscular chest. "It's not going to happen."
His hand flies to the back of my head, pulling at my hair so hard that I have no choice but to tilt my neck to look up at him as he speaks. "You're my only weakness. It's always been you."
His lips seal over mine in a deep and lush kiss. His breath tastes like coffee and peppermint and his tongue glides over my bottom lip with the promise of pleasure I've never known before. He growls my name into my mouth before he pulls back.
"I couldn’t stay away." He weaves his hand through my hair. "I knew you were here. I couldn’t function. I had to come."
I nod slowly as I stare into his eyes. "I wanted you to come, Caleb. I've been waiting forever for you."
He rolls me back onto my back in one quick movement and then he's hovering above me. I soak in the strong details of his face. I study the chiseled features of the man I've yearned for since I knew what intimacy was.
"I wanted to be your first," he says softly as he blinks slowly. "I always wanted to be your first, Bell."
Everything I feel catches in my throat and I can barely talk. "I wanted that too."
"I came to your graduation to tell you how I felt." His lips feather across my cheek. "I went to college and thought about you every day."
I reach up to graze my hand across the back of his neck. It pulls a shiver from him. I know my heart. I know that if we share ourselves with each other and he pulls away, that I'll be left in a deep pit of self-loathing and depression. He's warned me. He's told me he's going to hurt me and I know the risks. I also know that I need him. I pull gently on his neck, guiding his mouth to mine before I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and feel the brush of his cock against my hip.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue gliding against mine in an achingly slow dance. I crave the taste of his mouth so I cling to him tightly as he kisses me harder. His hand falls to my breast, his fingers pinching my swollen nipple, pulling a deep and guttural groan from my core.
I whimper when he pulls back slightly. He stares into my face, his expression stoic and strong. For a half beat of my heart I panic, wondering if he's thinking the same thoughts that overtook him that day in his apartment. I breathe again when his eyes follow the path of his hand and he looks down at my body.
My hips move involuntarily as soon as he starts to lower himself to my core. I close my eyes, uncertain about whether I can stand a single lash of his soft tongue against my tender flesh. I'm aroused. I'm so aroused just from his kiss.
He rests his head on my thigh as he runs his index finger over my smooth cleft. "Your pussy is so beautiful. It's perfect."
I blush at the words. Not just because of the frank rawness of them, but also because of the tender way he says them. My hands fall to his head, wanting to guide him.
He's spurred on by my actions and licks the length of my folds in one slow movement. I arch my ass off the bed wanting to feel more. He dives in, his tongue expertly focused on my clit, his hands cupped beneath me, pulling me into him.
I moan loudly into the still air. I don't want to quiet anything I'm feeling. I don't want to mask what I want. I'm going to take everything I can from him because I know it's what he's going to do to me. He'll give and then he'll expect to receive. I want it, he does too.
His tongue flickers over my clit, drawing my heated desire to the surface before he slows the pace, pulling me back from the edge. It's a torturous ride and just when I'm sure that I'm about to fall into the clutches of an intense orgasm, he pulls back, rubbing his finger over my core, telling me to wait.
"I want to come," I say quietly. "I'm aching."
"You're so wet." He laps at me loudly. "I could keep you on edge for hours just so I can taste this."
I cry out both in pleasure and agony. "Lick it. Just suck it and make me come."
"My cock is so hard." I feel his hand drop and I know he's stroking the thick root. "I can't wait to feel myself inside of you."
His words only add to my need to find release. I drop my hand from his head, wanting to bring myself to the edge.
"No," he says gruffly. "It's not for you to take."
I kick my leg softly, frustrated by his need to tease me endlessly. "Fuck me then. Just fuck me."
He looks up, his gaze catching mine. "You're going to come on my lips. I'm going to taste it all."
With that he lowers his mouth to my core. He pulls my ass of the bed, levels his tongue against my clit and licks me hard, fast and furiously until I come screaming his name.
Chapter 37
I run my hand over his sheathed cock. I'd ripped the condom package from his hands, wanting to touch him before he was ready for that to happen. I'd carefully placed the condom over him, rolling it down, running my hands over his thick root.
I kiss his thigh wishing I had taken him in my mouth before I covered him. I want to taste him. I want to feel him swell within my mouth right before he releases.
"Come here." His hands pull on my shoulders, urging me up.
I crawl slowly up his body, stopping to twirl my tongue around his right nipple. It draws a faint moan from his lips.
"Sit on me, Bell."
I straddle his groin, rubbing my wetness against him. I reach down to grab hold of him, guiding the tip of his hardness over my clit.
"No," He shifts his hips beneath me. "Christ, don't do that. I'll come
just from that."
I smile as I lean forward to kiss him deeply. I rest myself against him, feeling how thick and hard he is. I've never been with a man his size.
His hand drops to my ass. He rubs it gently before he reaches forward to pull his fingers through my folds again. "You're so wet. It's so good."
I run my tongue over his bottom lip and down his chin as I inch my body back, giving him the access he needs to slide himself into me.
We gasp in unison the moment the tender head of his cock brushes against my folds. I cry out as I feel him push my hips down and I feel a rush of tears when he slams his body up and into me.
"Ah, fuck, yes," he purrs. "You're so goddamn tight. Fuck. It's so good."
I lean forward to rest my cheek against his. "It's so much, Caleb."
He kisses my lips tenderly and softly and before I have time to process what is happening, he's flipped us over. He moves forward slightly, pulsing his hips until his cock is buried balls deep within me.
I moan not only from the pleasure but also from the bite of pain that comes with every thrust. I try to say his name. I want to say something but the only thing I can do is feel.
He pumps himself into me, finding a steady pace quickly. My body tightens with every movement, grabbing hold of his thickness, taking everything it can from him.
He says my name over and over with each breath he takes. I cling to him, feeling things I've never felt before. I feel myself falling closer to the edge of an intense orgasm each time he pumps the wide head of his cock deeper within me. He moves slightly, grabbing hold of my hip so he can adjust the angle of his movements.
I cry out as I feel the heat bearing down on me. I look up into his face and his eyes are wide, wild and focused completely on my face. I part my lips, suck in a deep breath and come with a deep and unfamiliar growl.
He ups the tempo, drives his cock into me and fucks me hard and fast until he finds his own release.
Chance Page 12
