by Lacey Baker
Heaven cleared her throat. “It’s been a while,” she said in a soft tone, her fingers moving slowly over the band of his underwear.
Preston sucked in a breath, then pushed her hair back over her shoulder. She looked up at him then. “All you have to do is say stop,” he told her, praying like hell she wouldn’t take his advice.
She shook her head instantly. “Do you have a condom?” she asked, licking her lips.
If he didn’t have one in his wallet, he’d run all the way to Godfrey’s Market or Jen’s General Store to find a box in record time!
“I’m prepared,” was his response. He moved away from her only long enough to find his wallet, remove his boxers, and sheathe himself.
By the time he turned back, Heaven was lying on the bed. She’d pushed the comforter and the sheet down and lay on her side, her head propped on her arm, watching him.
“It should be illegal for one man to look like you. I’m certainly glad I didn’t grow up in Sweetland.”
Her words touched him in a way Preston had never considered. Despite his reputation he’d never been a conceited man. Confident in his abilities and intelligence, yes, but stuck on the way he looked, convinced that he was some sort of gift to females, never. The way Heaven was looking at him, the stark honesty in her words knocked him off balance. His steps toward her momentarily faltered.
“I’m not the only dangerous one in this room. I’m still trying to figure out why some man hasn’t snatched you up and put a ring on your finger yet.” He climbed into bed beside her as he spoke.
“Maybe I’m not their type.”
Preston reached for her then, bringing her over so that she straddled him once more, because feeling her legs wrapped securely around him in the truck had not been enough. “Their loss,” he said, cupping the back of her head and bringing her mouth down to his.
Even as their tongues dueled, his hands moved down her back and around to cup her bottom. She rotated her hips, her moist center rubbing seductively over his arousal.
“Every time I try to take my time with you, it doesn’t work out,” he said, nipping along her jaw and trying like hell not to thrust deep inside of her.
But apparently Heaven had other ideas.
“I thought we’d already decided this would be fast,” she told him, arching her body upward to align her entrance with the engorged tip of his erection.
On a ragged curse Preston guided himself into her, gritting his teeth when with one quick motion she impaled herself on his length.
Yeah, he thought with a quick thrust of his hips, to hell with trying to go slow.
* * *
Heaven moved to some sultry melody in her mind. She’d never straddled a man before, never taken charge the way she’d been compelled to with Preston, but damn she was enjoying it.
Each thrust, each undulation of her hips brought new spikes of pleasure to prickle along her skin like gooseflesh. And when he pushed her upward so that she was sitting atop him while he held on to her hips, she thought she would die a sweet death. He guided her motions from there, lifting her upward then pulling her back to match the rhythm of his thrusts. Heaven panted and bit her lip until she thought she would draw blood.
“Come here, beautiful,” he whispered when he shifted them until she now lay beneath him.
“I knew from day one you were going to be trouble,” he told her before his lips touched hers again.
She loved the feel of his lips, his tongue. Closing her eyes she let herself go in that kiss. She also ignored the questions that would normally come with sleeping with a guy.
This isn’t love, Heaven. It’s sex. He’s a hot guy. You’re an aroused girl. End of story.
Over and over she said those words. Even when Preston looked at her as if he just might be thinking beyond the sex, she pushed that thought out of her head.
This was the here and now. It wasn’t forever. And she was okay with that.
She was even more okay with the feeling of weightlessness that came with each stroke he delivered. Her legs had been wrapped around his waist, locked at the ankles, while he was leveraged above her, moving his hips in a circular motion that really should be illegal. Her thighs began to shake just as he whispered her name.
She loved how he said her name because it wasn’t a reprimand, wasn’t a directive. It was appreciative, endearing, and so not what she was used to.
He lifted her legs so that they rested on his shoulders, then worked his hips, and hers, until they were both struggling to breathe. His name tore from her lips in a voice she didn’t recognize only seconds before her legs began to convulse and everything around her shattered into tiny pieces that fell in the air like confetti.
* * *
“I’ve never showered with a man before,” she told him when he led her into the bathroom and closed the door.
“Then today will be a first for both of us,” was his reply as he moved, naked and without an ounce of modesty, to the shower and turned on the water.
He turned to her startled expression. She was still standing by the door, arms folded over her breasts, legs as crossed as they could be considering she was still standing up. She wasn’t used to being naked in front of men, either, he surmised.
“Really,” he said, moving toward her slowly. “I’ve never showered with a female.”
Preston didn’t know why he felt the need to tell her that, but the little spark of relief he saw in her eyes was reward enough for him to not question it a moment further. Instead he reached for her wrists, pulling her arms slowly away from her chest. “You are a beautiful woman, Heaven. Every inch of you is spectacular.” He almost told her she shouldn’t be shy or ashamed, but wisely kept that to himself. He wanted her comfortable with him—relaxed and completely sated the way he was.
The water was just a breath away from steaming when they stepped inside the stall. Preston immediately positioned them so that Heaven’s back was to the wall and his to the spray of water.
“I’ll do the honors,” he told her with a wicked smile.
“If you insist,” was her timid but ready reply.
Lathering his hands, because he didn’t want anything to stand between him and the feel of her skin, he began with her breasts. Preston was sort of developing a fetish for them, which was weird since up until this point he’d proudly claimed to be a booty man. Yet each globe weighed heavily in his soapy palms, turgid nipples causing a heated friction.
“Heavenly,” he whispered.
“You said that in the car,” she said breathily.
He looked up to see that her eyes were focused on his hands as she once again licked her lips. God, he loved when she did that.
“Because that’s what they are. A more heavenly sight I’ve never seen.”
“They’re just breasts.”
“Spoken from the one who has had them at her command all her life,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ve had to wait for opportunities to get glimpses of these parts and for yours specifically.… Let’s just say it feels like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So,” he finished with a sigh, “I have to take full advantage.”
And that meant squeezing them softly, watching with intense arousal as soap suds slid through his fingers and her skin slipped out of his hand. With determination and a newly burning need, he continued to rub soap along her body. Down her slim torso, over the soft curve of her hips, between her legs where he had to suck in a breath to keep from groaning. Lifting one leg, he lathered her calves, ankle, and foot, then switched to do the next.
All the while she would sigh here and there or grip her shoulders for leverage. When he turned her so that her back faced him, he felt her body tighten.
“Trust me, Heaven. I’m only concerned with your pleasure right now.”
She let her head rest against the wall as if in surrender. Preston couldn’t resist: He pushed her hair, now damp and hanging limply, to the side and kissed the nape of her neck. Leaving a trail of kisses along the line of her
shoulders, he let his soapy hands move up and down her arms. When he could finally stop kissing her delectable skin, he took a step back and lathered down her spine to the curve of her bottom, where he cupped both cheeks and let out his own strained breath.
He’d said she was beautiful, which should have been the highest praise. Still, with each time his eyes alit on her, each different part of her he saw, he realized she was so much more. And she was here, with him.
Of course Preston had enjoyed many females in his lifetime—not as many as his reputation might indicate, but still he was no virgin. But for him the norm was to have sex and go home. Females did not come to his place; he always went to theirs. He made the date plans, he decided when they would go to the next stage, and he decided when it would end. Preston always remained in control.
Always.
Then Heaven looked over her shoulder and whispered his name. Something shifted as he looked from her backside to her eyes and held her stare.
“I can do you now,” she told him.
Preston swallowed, his erection thick and heavy, his mind just a little blurred.
If she was timid when they’d first come into the bathroom, that was gone now. Bold, soapy hands touched him, rubbing all over his chest. At his sides his fingers clenched and unclenched. She pressed herself closer, her breasts rubbing against him as her arms wrapped around and slid up and down his back.
“You’re much taller than I am, so I may miss some spots.”
He shook his head. “No. I think you’re hitting all the right spots.”
If she was alarmed at his obvious arousal, she didn’t say, but continued to rub her body along his. Pulling back, she grabbed the soap once more and worked up a lather so thick Preston thought she might be aiming to clean the entire shower stall instead of just his body.
She came up on tiptoe and kissed him. A hot, openmouthed kiss that had his hands tangling in her hair, his heart thumping in his chest.
“You do that really well,” she told him when she pulled away, her chest heaving.
Preston had to shake his head to try to clear it. He was having a hard time remembering whose idea it was to climb into this shower together.
“You’re not bad at it yourself,” he told her, then cursed loud and long as she cupped both hands around his length and stroked.
First upward, all the way to the tip, where she let a thumb rub slowly, seductively. Then down, all the way to the base so that a couple of fingers actually rubbed against his scrotum. He swallowed once, then twice, then gasped her name. “Heaven.”
He managed to say it twice, only to have her look up at him with a decidedly teasing smile.
“I think heavenly is the correct word,” she teased.
* * *
It had taken a record five minutes to rinse both their bodies, do a spot-dry with the guest towels or the pretty ones that Michelle didn’t like being touched, he couldn’t remember. What Preston knew without a doubt was that had that condom ripped as his desperate fingers worked alongside her anxious ones to get it on, he might have yelled down the entire B&B.
As it was, fate was on his side. The condom was on tight, and so was Heaven as she sat on his lap working her hips and his arousal until they were both moaning and panting.
He sat on the edge of the bed, which was as far as they’d made it, holding her tightly in his arms as she rotated her hips and he thrust upward in a rhythm that was sure to lead them both to a blissful release. When he attempted to shift their positions so that he could lay her down, Heaven pushed back until he was the one who’d fallen onto the bed. She rose over him, their bodies still connected intimately, and rode him until that mutual goal of extreme pleasure was reached.
Later in the night or the early-morning hours, as Preston looked back on the events of the day, he would remember the idea of having control. He’d also remember Heaven and her hands, her mouth, her tongue, her breasts … and he’d agree that control was completely lost.
Chapter 14
“I don’t think we have to ask how your night went.” Savannah smiled brightly as she sipped from a cup of coffee while leaning against the kitchen counter.
Heaven hesitated. She’d known this would be uncomfortable, but there was no way to get out of the shopping trip she’d already agreed to. And actually, she didn’t want to. Of course the Cantrell women would question her about the night spent with their brother. Wasn’t that what sisters did? Seeing as she was an only child and had never been involved with a man with siblings before, this was all new to her. It was a good thing Heaven wasn’t totally averse to trying new things.
“No,” she replied with a smug smile as she reached for a blueberry muffin that was as big as her hand. “You don’t have to ask if you don’t want to know.”
But of course they wanted to know. And strange as it might sound, Heaven wanted to tell.
Raine had been seated at the table, her muffin only half eaten, her coffee mug cupped in both her hands as she peered over the rim at Heaven. She didn’t say anything when Heaven sat down, but Heaven knew barely held restraint when she saw it.
Savannah put forth no such effort.
“Okay, so Preston’s been at this thing with seducing women for a really long time so I’m not going to bother to ask if it was good. But you can feel free to tell us just how good it was.” With a waggle of her eyebrows and a huge grin, Savannah Cantrell earned herself a big spot in Heaven’s heart.
She was the lively sister, the one who had escaped the small town to see the world and had come back with said world on her shoulders. It was clear that Savannah was a stunning beauty, but she was also compassionate and loyal and as observant as the rest of her siblings. But specifically, since the first day Heaven had walked into the inn, Savannah had been in-your-face honest and more entertaining than any other female she’d had the pleasure of meeting. She was refreshing in her liveliness and candor, and Heaven envied her that free spirit.
For those reasons and a few more of her own, Heaven smiled.
“It was the best I’ve ever had,” she said, then felt heat in her cheeks and figured she’d better put something in her mouth before she said too much.
“Hot damn! That’s my brother,” Savannah quipped with a hoot of laughter.
“I’m assuming that means Preston and Heaven had a hot steamy night,” Nikki said, entering the kitchen with a tray of dirty glasses and napkins.
A little after nine in the morning Michelle would already be in the restaurant making sure the breakfast crowd was handled, even though Tanya and Lisa Kramer, residents of Sweetland who were home from college for the summer and always worked part-time at The Silver Spoon, were perfectly capable of handling it. Nikki, however, came right in and checked on all the guests—which right now was a total of two elderly couples from Missouri. Best friends who had known each other all their lives and had married their high school sweethearts. The Edisons and Krandalls were celebrating thirty-five years of love and laughter. That’s what they’d told Heaven one evening when all of them sat on the porch watching the sunset and drinking lemonade. She’d been touched by their sincerity and their seemingly imperishable love for one another.
Just one more thing in Sweetland that made her envious—a feeling she hadn’t experienced much in her life.
“I hope you didn’t deplete too much of his energy. The guys are in charge of the inn while we’re out today,” Nikki continued as she loaded the dishwasher.
Reaching over to snag a piece of Heaven’s muffin, Savannah shook her head and popped the food into her mouth. “Well, Heaven’s looking a little tired so I’m not sure how much energy Preston will have.”
“I feel fine,” Heaven replied.
“I’ll just bet you do,” Savannah fired back.
Raine shook her head, a small smile ghosting her lips. “All right, Savannah, give the girl a break. She’s not used to your raging hormones and candid exploration of everyone else’s sex life.”
“That’s be
cause I now have to live vicariously through everyone else,” Savannah replied drily. “It’s not my fault there are only a handful of men in this hideously small town.”
“There are more than a handful of men in Sweetland,” Nikki defended.
Savannah frowned. “I prefer men with all their hair, teeth, and other vital body parts. And I’d rather not have to go down to Charlie’s and scrape them off the floor just to get a good bout of sex in each night.”
“You prefer to have them fawning over you like you’re the queen of England, isn’t that more accurate?”
The sizzle in the air and the tart words came when Michelle entered the kitchen. As the oldest Cantrell sister and the youngest, these two went at it every time they were within three feet of each other. Some days it was amusing and others it was tiring. If there was love between these two, it was really hard to see. And yet Savannah hadn’t left to go home and Michelle seemed to look forward to seeing her youngest sister on a daily basis.
These family dynamics were intriguing to Heaven.
“What should we wear to the soiree?” Raine asked by way of keeping the peace and changing the subject.
She did that very well, but looked a little weary at having to perform such a task so frequently. Heaven decided to help her out.
“I was going to ask the same question. I’ve never been to a soiree before,” she said.
“Really? I would have definitely pegged you for a socialite. You have perfect posture and manners just like those high-society ladies I’ve met on my travels. The ones who look down their nose at the young model for fear she’s come to sleep with their husbands.”
A few beats of almost intolerable silence followed Savannah’s remark.
“I’ve been to dinner parties and business functions, all given by rich and uptight people who probably hadn’t laughed in ages,” she said with her own wry chuckle. “The Bay Soiree sounds like it’ll be much more fun. Do you wear ball gowns or will simple evening dresses suffice?”
Savannah had stood after her comments on society wives and their husbands. She put her cup in the dishwasher before Nikki closed it.
