ISBN: 9781483558615
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Chapter One
Big Sur, California
More than ten years had passed since Ben Rafferty had left the Cincinnati suburb where he’d grown up, not the least bit sorry to leave behind the cold, snowy winters and mundane Midwestern existence that had been all he’d known since birth. Those sentiments were now strengthened tenfold as he walked a few more yards down the gravel road and was left both speechless and breathless by the sight he beheld.
This wasn’t his first trip to California – or even to the central coast – but Ben knew he’d never seen a vista quite like this one before. The view of the mighty Pacific Ocean as it crashed over jagged rocks, framed by majestic coastal cypress trees, was most definitely a one in a million sight. And a photo of this exact vista would make the perfect accompaniment to the article he was currently writing on traveling Highway One – which, in his well-traveled experiences, was the most beautiful stretch of road anywhere in the world.
He focused the camera that he’d never really gotten the hang of using – after all, he was a writer, not a photographer. But he’d taught himself, experimented, and muddled through the process over the past few years since he’d begun living the life of a nomad. With a view like the one in front of him right now, however, the pictures would practically take themselves.
Ben had only snapped half a dozen shots when the mildly amused feminine voice behind him announced lazily, “You do realize you’re trespassing, don’t you? And that the locals around these parts have been known to shoot at outsiders?”
He had been an accomplished writer since his pre-teen years, and was certainly familiar with the meanings of words like “poleaxed” and “gobsmacked” and “thunderstruck”. But he’d never once come close to actually experiencing any of those reactions until now – as he turned and stared at the girl who was unquestionably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
The petite but curvy goddess was gazing back at him steadily, evidently not the tiniest bit intimidated by the fact that he had a good eight inches and probably seventy pounds on her. A corner of her full-lipped mouth was quirked up in amusement, and a dark blonde brow arched inquisitively as she waited – none too patiently – for his reply. Her long hair was wet, as though she’d recently been swimming, so he couldn’t determine the exact shade, but the eyes that were making an equally thorough inspection of his own face and body were a clear, deep green.
She was wearing a tiny pair of fringed denim cutoffs, her long legs tanned and toned, her small feet bare. But it was the navy polka dot bikini top that his gaze was drawn to – and fixated on – for the miniscule garment bared a whole lot of a really amazing pair of tits.
Short and Stacked glared at him. “You’ve already got one strike against you for trespassing on private property. Are you trying to really piss me off by staring at my boobs?”
Ben grinned in spite of himself, and slowly dragged his gaze back up to meet the little spitfire’s emerald eyes. “Sorry. It’s just – ah – well, I figured the view of the ocean from up here was the most sensational thing I’d ever seen. And then I turned around.”
She rolled her eyes. “Really? That’s the best pick-up line you can manage? Don’t bother trying to think up anything more clever, either. Trust me when I say I’ve pretty much heard them all, and one is generally lamer than the next. So, is that your motorcycle parked up at the top of the driveway? Guess you didn’t see the huge ass sign that says Private Property – No Beach Access.”
He gave a brief shrug. “I saw it. But all I wanted to do was take a few photos, figured I could slip in and out before anyone noticed me. They’re for an article I’m writing, and I’ve been searching for the perfect shot all morning. This is definitely it.”
She narrowed what he’d already concluded was an extremely perceptive gaze on the camera he held. “Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to get the perfect shot of anything with a piece of shit like that. Who sold you that pathetic excuse of a camera anyway?”
Ben frowned as she sauntered over to where he stood, holding out her palm as she did so. Somewhat reluctantly he placed the camera in her hand. “Sounds like you might know a little something about this stuff. Is that right?”
She grinned and gave him a flirty little wink. “You could say that, Blue Eyes. I’m Lauren, by the way. Lauren McKinnon. And my Uncle Malcolm is a very accomplished photographer. He’s had books published, exhibits, yada, yada. He gave me my very first camera when I was five years old. So, yeah, I know a “little something” about them. And I know that this,” she gave his camera a disparaging glare, “isn’t something I’d give a child to use.”
Ben emitted a low whistle. “Malcolm McKinnon. Yeah, I’ve heard of him. He’s one of the most famous nature and outdoor photographers of the past few decades. Oh, and I’m Ben. Ben Rafferty. And I’ll, ah, be on my way now. I really didn’t mean to trespass.”
“Wait.”
Lauren continued to shake her head disapprovingly at the camera she still held. Admittedly he’d relied on the nerdy sales clerk at the discount electronics store to recommend a camera, and since money had been an issue he hadn’t been able to afford anything too fancy.
She glanced from the camera to the ocean and to his face. “You’re right. You aren’t likely to find a better view than this one anywhere on this part of the coast. And it would be a criminal offense to even try and publish a shot of my beach that was taken by this hunk of junk.”
Ben chuckled. “Your beach? I was under the impression that the coast was public property in this state.”
Lauren shrugged. “Figure of speech. And technically the view belongs to my parents. I mean, the house does at least. Do you want to come inside for a minute so I can get a real camera?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Sure you want to invite a stranger – not to mention a known trespasser – into your house?”
She smirked, giving him a very thorough onceover. “Well, honey, from what I can tell your bod’s really rocking it underneath that T-shirt and those jeans. But I’ve taken guys your size down without breaking a sweat so, no, I’m not the least bit worried.” At his look of disbelief, she added, “I also started doing martial arts when I was five. I’ve got three black belts – kung Fu, karate, and judo – and working on earning a fourth in capoeira.”
Ben glanced at the admittedly tight, toned body that nonetheless didn’t look capable of kicking him in the shin, much less toppling him to the ground. But while her petite, trim figure didn’t intimidate him in the least, the flash of emerald fire in her eyes made him feel more than a little uneasy.
“Well, in that case, how can I refuse?” he replied. “Lead the way.”
He followed her back up the driveway, amazed that she never flinched even once as her bare feet glided over the gravel road. He had to duck his head as he followed Lauren though a break in the tall hedge
that grew along the perimeter of the property, and stepped up onto the wide redwood deck at what he guessed was the back of the house. As they walked onto the deck, they were very enthusiastically greeted by a trio of Australian Shepherd dogs. After a few minutes of petting the animals – who seemed especially enthused to lick Ben’s face and lean against his legs while he scratched behind their ears – Lauren uttered a few succinct commands that the dogs obeyed instantly, each retreating to various corners of the deck. And then he was speechless for the third time in the past fifteen minutes as he got his first glimpse of Lauren’s home.
It was the oddest sensation – not precisely déjà vu – but he couldn’t help feeling as though he’d finally arrived home after a very long time away. He’d never considered any of the houses he’d lived in while growing up in Ohio as his home. His parents had divorced when he was seven, and from that point on he’d been shuttled back and forth between their new homes – both of them having quickly remarried and started new families. It had been difficult, if not downright impossible, to ever truly feel comfortable or like he belonged anywhere.
During college he’d lived in dorm rooms, studio apartments, houses he’d shared with several roommates. Since then he’d drifted from one place to the next, mostly living in cheap rented rooms, never calling one place home for very long.
But now, as he walked slowly across the redwood deck that offered up its own spectacular views, Ben felt an instant affinity with the house – more of a cabin, really, he noted now – as though the structure of wood and glass was speaking to him, recognizing him, welcoming him home. He knew a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never felt before.
He ran a hand over the door jamb as he followed Lauren inside the cabin. “This place. It’s – incredible is the only word that comes to mind. I haven’t even been inside yet but I can already sense how special it is.”
Lauren turned and smiled, her green eyes glowing. “You feel it, do you? I’ve always thought this place was magical, was convinced when I was a little girl that fairies or elves lived here. And even though we haven’t lived here full time since my sister and I were five years old, I’ve always considered this place my real home.”
Ben walked inside the main room of the cabin, which at first glance appeared to be a combination living/dining space. The floors were of a sturdy, distressed oak, the beamed ceiling high and sloped. The furniture looked comfy and well lived-in, everything chosen to blend in with the earthy, almost rustic feel of the place.
As Lauren nimbly clambered up a spiral staircase to what he assumed was a loft, Ben quickly took in as many other details as possible. In addition to the spacious, high-ceilinged great room, there was a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. The cabin would definitely be on the small side for a family, but there was certainly plenty of room for one – or two – people here.
His gaze fell on a particularly arresting seascape that hung above the rock fireplace. He knew less about art than he did about photography, but even his untrained eye could recognize the quality of the piece. There were other, smaller, but equally magnificent works hung at strategically placed spots around the room, and Ben knew without being told that they had all been rendered by the same artist.
The slight creaking of a floorboard alerted him to Lauren’s presence, and he felt the same sort of thunderstruck reaction as he faced her again. Jesus, but she was beautiful, he thought wildly, and wondered briefly if all of her lush little body was tanned the same deep shade of apricot as the considerable amount of bared flesh was. The scowl on her face told him that she was well aware of the perverted direction his thoughts must be taking, and he felt his cheeks flush as though he were an adolescent boy caught with a pornographic magazine in his grasp.
“Did you, uh, paint these?” he mumbled, trying to cover up the fact that he’d been rather blatantly ogling her cleavage.
Lauren snorted, no doubt very well aware of his hasty cover-up attempt. “The few times I’ve attempted to paint I wound up with more of the stuff on my face and hands and clothes than on the canvas. I don’t have the patience to mix the colors or work on all those little details. No, my mother did all of these. She’s an amazing artist, very well renowned in the art world.”
Ben stepped closer to one of the paintings, squinting as he read aloud, “Natalie Benoit.”
“She uses her maiden name to sign her art.”
He nodded. “She’s of French descent?”
“French Canadian, to be exact. My grandparents are from Montreal. My sister and I are both fluent in French, learned it from the time we could speak. Arrêter de regarder mes seins et prenons votre photo de stupide.”
“Huh?” He lifted a brow at her flawless French, not understanding a single word.
Lauren scowled. “I said stop looking at my breasts and let’s take your stupid photo.”
Once again feeling like a fourteen year old boy with more hormones than brains, Ben obediently followed her back outside, the dogs eagerly trotting along in their wake.
She adjusted the lens and flicked a variety of switches and buttons on the camera before handing him the obviously high tech and very expensive piece of equipment.
“Here. Now this is a camera,” she announced bluntly. “Don’t touch a thing, it’s all focused and ready. All you have to do now is take the shot.”
Ben was more than a little intimidated to actually take the shot under Lauren’s eagle eyed regard, but was pleasantly surprised at the results of his efforts when he studied them in the view finder.
“Hmm. Not bad,” acknowledged Lauren. “Mind if I have a go at it?”
Ben spread his hands wide. “Be my guest. After all, it’s your camera. And your beach.”
She winked at him again, a flirty little gesture that made his heart rate accelerate and his cock perk up at the same time. “Now you’ve got it, sweetie.”
And then he could only watch in silent awe as she snapped what had to be dozens of shots in rapid succession. In his chosen – and poorly paid profession – he’d had occasion to work with photographers, and it was very obvious from what he could see here that Lauren was already a pro, despite her youth. She couldn’t be much older than twenty two, twenty three tops – if that – he figured, despite the air of supreme self-confidence she gave off.
And, upon closer observation of her fresh-faced, makeup-free complexion, and the way her long, thick caramel colored hair had begun to curl up beguilingly as it dried, Ben was beginning to think she was even younger. She couldn’t possibly be a teenager, he assured himself. It wasn’t something he even wanted to consider, given the very strong physical reactions he was experiencing in her presence. It had been a long time, longer than he could accurately pinpoint at this moment, since he’d been with a woman. His restless, nomadic existence definitely didn’t lend itself to having anything resembling a relationship, and he’d always been a real loner during high school and college.
But even if he was the biggest manwhore on the face of the earth, the kind of guy who picked up women at random whenever the urge struck, Ben knew that he still would have felt this overpowering attraction towards Lauren. It wasn’t just her face and hair and body – though God knew that was more than enough to attract any red-blooded, heterosexual man – and maybe even some who weren’t. It was also her sassy, fearless attitude, the way she didn’t seem to care a whit about her appearance, and how she seemed perfectly at home in this wild, somewhat rugged environment. Put together into one tempting, irresistible package, it was small wonder that he’d been hard and ready from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, and was having a very difficult time thinking about anything else but having her beneath him, his cock buried as deep inside of her lithe body as he could reach, fucking her harder than he’d ever come close to taking a woman before. And then he couldn’t help but smile as it occurred to him that he’d likely be the one beneath Lauren. Something told him that she would prefer to be on top whenever possible, and as much as he wanted her rig
ht now he’d let her do whatever the hell she wanted to him.
Lauren finally lowered the camera, flipping through the shots she’d taken with a casual expertise. “Not bad,” she acknowledged. “Come on, we’ll go download these and pick the best shot. You got a flash drive with you to copy the files to?”
“Uh, no,” admitted Ben reluctantly. “I can get my laptop, though.”
She rolled her eyes. “Forget it, this will be quicker. I’ve always got a couple of dozen of those things laying around, mostly because I tend to misplace them constantly. Come on.”
He was startled when she took hold of his hand, tugging him along in her wake and whistling for the dogs at the same time. Three eager, furry bodies emerged from seemingly out of nowhere at the same time, and they trotted along obediently behind Lauren. Ben couldn’t help thinking that he knew exactly how the animals felt, not daring to disobey their mistress’s commands. He’d only been in Lauren’s presence for less than half an hour, and could already sense that she was a natural born leader, and definitely not a woman you’d willingly want to challenge. Or piss off.
“You’ve got them well trained, I see,” he commented as the Aussies followed them inside the house.
Lauren gave a careless little shrug. “They know better than to try and pull any of their little doggy antics with me – doesn’t work and never has. They’ll be happy to go back home in a couple of weeks when my parents return from Europe, especially since my dad spoils them rotten. My sister and I used to grouse about the way the dogs got away with a hell of a lot more than we ever did.”
Ben chuckled. “What did your father have to say about that?”
She gave him an answering grin. “That the dogs were much more obedient than we were, and much easier to manage. Especially me. Come on, my computer’s up in the loft.”
He followed her up the narrow, winding staircase to the loft, his gaze fixed firmly – and unapologetically – on the really fabulous cheeks of her ass so lovingly outlined in their tight, faded cut-offs. But if Lauren was aware of the direction of his eyes she didn’t acknowledge it, merely tossing out “It’s kind of a mess up here. I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
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