by Addison Fox
“Mick O’Shaughnessy not only looks at you like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, but like you’re a precious gift he’s afraid to lose. He sees you, Grier.”
“I thought you liked Jason.”
“Not really. But since you did, it wasn’t my place to say anything.”
“You broke the girlfriend code.”
“Hardly.”
The elevator doors opened and Sloan waited for Grier to step through them, unwilling to risk leaving the argument unfinished if Grier opted to haul ass.
“You most certainly did. You never told me what you thought of him. Or didn’t think of him, as it were.”
“No, I didn’t formally tell you. Because when I tried to tell you in a million other ways, you ignored each and every hint. So I sucked it up, acknowledged it was my issue and left it alone.”
Grier stared at the elevator panel instead of making eye contact, but her interest was evident in the quick tilt of her head. “What didn’t you like about him? You know. Now that he’s not a part of my life and you can speak freely.”
“He never put you first. Not once.”
A small nod telegraphed her agreement before Grier leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “No. He never did.”
“And then he went and got sucked off by that junior associate two weeks before your wedding, making it more than obvious the only person he knew how to put first was himself.”
When Grier didn’t say anything, Sloan added, “You deserve someone who puts you first.”
“So do you.”
“Yes, I know.”
The elevator hummed quietly as they climbed toward their floor, but neither of them said anything else. As the doors slid open on their floor, Sloan figured she’d made her point and walked through first. “I’ll see you at the auction.”
“Sloan.”
Turning she looked back at Grier. “Does he really look at me that way?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Sloan decided to go for broke. “For what it’s worth, you look at him the exact same way. It’d be a shame to let something as insignificant as a broken engagement with an asshole who doesn’t deserve to kiss your feet get in the way of it.”
Walker snuck up the back stairs of the hotel to Sloan’s floor, anxious to avoid the mob of women who’d congregated on the main floor. He hadn’t seen her since the skeet shoot and was anxious to . . .
To what?
Touch her? Kiss her? Just look at her?
All of the above, he reluctantly admitted as he rounded toward the fourth-floor staircase.
Shocked and not a little winded, he dropped onto the first step to catch his breath.
Damn it, he was getting old. Time was he and the rest of the high school hockey team ran these stairs for their daily practices and he’d made all six floors and barely broke a sweat. He’d even kicked Roman’s ass on the sprints.
And now?
He fisted his coat in his hands as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He’d always considered himself in good shape, but clearly he needed to get back to the gym if five floors could force him to take a seat.
Or maybe you have to acknowledge you’re not still a fucking kid.
The thought snuck up on him like a snake waiting to strike and it left him as disoriented, too.
He knew he wasn’t a kid anymore. He had a business and responsibilities and he was an adult. A grown up.
So why did he suddenly feel old and lonely?
And why did the thought of continuing with his devil-may-care attitude toward life and love feel like an empty choice?
Sloan.
Her name whispered across his senses, just as it had from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. She was vibrant and fun and . . . necessary.
She made him think of his life in ways he never had before. For the first time, thoughts of his future involved someone else, not a faceless parade of women who came and went with the seasons.
A renewed burst of energy had him on his feet and taking the rest of the stairs two at a time until he reached her floor. With a swift knock, he hammered on her door.
And proceeded to get even more winded at the sight of her in a soft pink robe and a towel wrapped around her head. “Walker!”
He leaned against the doorjamb, hoping the move didn’t let on just how weak his knees were or how badly he wanted to gulp in air. “You always open the door to strangers?”
“I figured you were Grier.” She stood back to allow him to enter. “Besides, I love it when strange men knock on my door. It adds a certain sense of danger and excitement to my day.”
Walker wasn’t sure what it was. The uncharacteristic thoughts he’d had on the way here or the sight of her slender frame wrapped in the thin cotton or the freshly scrubbed pink on her cheeks.
All he knew was that he had to have her.
Now.
Slamming the door with his foot, he threw his coat on the floor and reached for her in a heavy rush, dragging her against him to plunder her mouth with his own.
She squeaked lightly as his mouth came down on hers, but quickly responded to his urgency in kind. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed the long lines of her body to his rapidly heating one as the kiss changed.
Challenged.
Took.
For long, glorious minutes there was nothing but this responsive woman in his arms as their tongues met and plundered, retreated and acquiesced. With heightened senses, he felt everything.
The clutch of her hands at his shoulders. The rapid beat of her heart where her chest pressed against his. The rush of heat at her core where she straddled his thigh.
He fisted his hands in the soft cotton of her robe at her hips and used the pressure to pull her close, pressing his erection into the soft flesh of her stomach.
“Now, Sloan.”
She lifted her lips from his, the bright blue of her eyes almost violet in the rush of passion that filled her. “Yes. Now.”
They fell onto the bed in a flash of urgent need and desperate longing and he dragged on the tie at her waist, before diving into the opening. The towel she’d wrapped around her hair had fallen off somewhere along the trip to the bed and her hair rested against the pillow in half-dry ringlets, the blond a burnished gold from the damp.
Her rib cage contracted on a rush of air as his hands found her breasts, his fingers immediately fondling her nipples into tight peaks. She arched her back, pressing the fullness of her flesh into his palms and he replaced one of his hands with his mouth.
Sloan writhed underneath him as he made love to her breasts and her fingers played a restless tune across his back. With long, languorous strokes of his tongue he drew out her pleasure. Her movements grew more restless until he felt her tugging on his sweater. “I want to feel you,” she moaned against his ear.
He pulled back, giving her the space to lift his sweater from around his waist and drag it up over his head. His long-sleeved T-shirt quickly followed and then she dragged her hands down his chest, gliding over his nipples.
A wave of pleasure flooded him at her touch and she immediately responded to his needs, rolling him onto his back and straddling him before pressing kisses down his throat and over his chest. Walker felt the gathering storm of pleasure build up within him as she laved his sensitized nipples with her tongue and grew desperate to finish the torturous game they played with each other.
Holding her still, he reached up and dragged off the robe, baring her naked form completely to his gaze. The impact of her hit him like a swift sucker punch to the gut, the dewy softness of her skin and the long, lean length of her nearly his undoing.
“You are so beautiful.”
She looked down at him, her dark pupils dilated wide with desire. “You make me feel beautiful.” With deft movements, she shifted position to straddle his thighs and went to work on the button of his jeans. Each moment was an agony as her fingers applied pressure to his swol
len cock.
He brushed her hands away with a wry smile around gritted teeth. “Why don’t you let me do that?”
Good, old-fashioned feminine laughter bubbled from the long column of her throat and Walker could only marvel at the knowing look in her eyes. It was a look for the ages, one as likely to have been seen on Cleopatra’s face for Mark Antony and in that moment, Walker knew.
Knew to the very depths of his soul that he was lost.
Lost to the same heat and passion and need that had driven men and women for millennia.
With swift movements, he sat up and dragged off his jeans, fumbling with the heavy material where the two of them lay tangled in each other.
As his jeans fell to the floor with a thud, Sloan resumed her position on top of him, positioning him at her hot, wet opening before plunging fully to take him inside of her.
The tight walls of her body closed around his length and Walker knew he’d been right. He was utterly lost to this woman.
As she began to move, more waves of pleasure flooded his body, pumping his blood in crazy, erratic bursts. His last coherent thought as the storm ripped through him was so simple—so life affirming—he wasn’t sure why it had taken him so very long to figure it out.
Only in the losing, had he finally been found.
Sloan felt the telltale signs—the restless urge that built and built to an almost painful crescendo—but still, she drove them on, riding the glorious length of him until they were both satiated.
Until they’d both won.
On a throaty shout, she felt his body tighten under hers as a passionate cry burst from her own lips, her body giving itself up to the magic between them.
Her orgasm crested through her, in bright, glittering waves of pleasure she wanted to hold on to and never let go. It battered her with delicious sensations she’d never imagined could be so good.
On a final shout, Walker drove his body upward, nearly unseating her before wrapping his arms around her and dragging her down to his chest. They lay there for long minutes, hearts still thundering from the effort as their breathing returned to normal.
“I seriously hope these walls are soundproof,” Sloan mumbled against his chest.
His throaty voice drifted over her like a warm blanket. “I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mine and I don’t care who the hell knows.”
Sloan lifted her head from his chest. “That’s very Neanderthal of you, Walker Montgomery.”
“Damn right it is,” he growled for added effect before dragging her up for a kiss. His hands were gentle where they held her face, while his mouth was anything but.
It was a kiss that branded and she found herself reveling in the raw, primal intensity of his actions. The heat flared between them again at the carnal mating of their tongues and in that moment, Sloan knew she was forever changed.
Like you didn’t already know that.
She’d known it on some level but had resisted admitting it. Had resisted giving in to the powerful feelings Walker evoked effortlessly in her.
Desperate to keep the moment light, she resettled herself against his chest. “Is this some elaborate male ritual to keep me from bidding on Bear tonight?”
“Bear, Skate, Tommy, Chuck and all the rest of the guys. Save your money.”
“My journalistic integrity requires me to be more broad-minded than one bid. Besides, what if you get snapped up by that accountant from Chicago?”
“The one with the big tits?”
She rose up at that one, slapping him on the shoulder. “You noticed?”
He wiggled his eyebrows in return before lifting his head to plant a wet, smacking kiss on her open—and outraged—mouth. “Of course I noticed. I have a penis and a pulse.”
“An even bigger reason why I need to bid on several candidates. And I’m quite sure Bear has been a much bigger gentleman than you and hasn’t estimated my cup size.”
A long, low laugh greeted her, even as his eyes went dark with the unmistakable air of possession. “Want to make a bet?”
“Probably not.”
“Smart choice.”
“Will you at least clear your dance card for me?”
“Why, Mr. Montgomery. I do believe that is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Sloan waited a beat as his broad grin greeted hers before she went in for the kill. “Which makes it that much harder for me to have to tell you no.”
“No?”
“The fine, upstanding bachelors of Indigo have been promising me dances all week. I’d hate to disappoint my adoring public.”
“We couldn’t have that, now, could we?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m revoking your journalist’s license if any of them get you off the dance floor.”
“Impossible.” She smiled broadly. “I don’t have a license for you to revoke.”
“Cheeky witch.” He wrapped her in his arms for another searing kiss as he whispered against her lips, “What have you done to me?”
Instead of answering, Sloan opted to show him.
She pressed a kiss to his lips before trailing a path down his neck to his chest, marveling at the play of muscles under her lips. Her fingers brushed against the hard steel of his biceps where her hands held her weight on either side of his body and she was reminded of her thoughts from that first morning in the diner, before he’d taken her on a tour through town.
This man was rugged and tough and oh so male.
And real.
Even as she shared in the pleasure that built between them, Sloan couldn’t stop more memories from surfacing.
Couldn’t stop the day’s events from playing across the back of her mind.
Along with it, her discussions with Avery and Grier came back to her in a rush and her euphoria melted with the acknowledgment that no matter how many moments she and Walker shared, the clock was ticking and this thing between them was only temporary.
He’d made no move to discuss anything more serious with her.
And what if he did?
She’d spent so much time thinking about leaving she hadn’t given thought to what she’d say if he asked her to stay. To uproot her life and move to Alaska.
Would she stay?
“Sloan?”
“Hmmm?” She glanced up after pressing a kiss to the flat planes of his stomach.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You drifted away there for a minute.”
With a mental head shake, she pulled herself back to the present and the sexy man who made her want . . . so many things. “I was contemplating.”
“Contemplating what, sweetheart?”
“The right path.” She trailed her fingers along the underside of his cock, pleased when he grew even harder in her hand.
If it were possible, Walker’s dark eyes grew darker as her meaning sunk in. With a broad smile, she resumed her efforts, her trail of kisses headed straight toward her destination.
As she replaced her hands with her lips around his straining erection, Sloan felt a shudder rack his body and heard his long, loan moan of pleasure.
Would she stay?
The question rose up again to taunt her.
To tease her.
To test her?
Walker dragged her upward on a groan before rolling her over to her back and plunging his body into hers in one long, smooth stroke.
Would she stay?
As the first throes of another orgasm gripped her, Sloan knew she had her answer.
Of course she’d stay.
She loved him.
Chapter Twenty-two
The Montgomery Meeting and Recreation Center was almost unrecognizable for the copious lengths of streamers, ribbon and soft twinkle lights that filled the outer hallway with an ethereal glow.
“The grandmothers have outdone themselves,” Amanda marveled as she looked around the entryway. “It’s even more beautiful tha
n last year.”
The two of them oohed and aahed their way toward the registration table and Sloan was grateful for the company. She’d run into Amanda as they were both leaving the Indigo Blue and they’d walked over together, both laughing at their heavy winter boots and cocktail dresses as they’d trekked up Main Street.
Grier had sent a perky text about fifteen minutes before they were set to leave, suggesting Sloan head on over without her.
She’d immediately interpreted the subtext as “I’m not yet ready to talk to you but save me a seat.” Which, in retrospect, she likely deserved for her earlier drubbing. The fact that it was absolutely warranted was really beside the point.
Sloan just hoped her friend was putting the extra time to good use, donning a killer outfit for the evening that would have Mick O’Shaughnessy on his knees.
“I never expected it to—” Sloan broke off. There was that word again.
Expectation.
She hadn’t expected anything that had happened to her on this trip, from the friendliness of the denizens of Indigo to the amount of fun she’d had to the amazing thing that had developed with Walker.
“Look like a fairy tale,” Amanda finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“I thought the same thing last year. And then I realized, it was only fitting for a town that prides itself on love.”
Love.
And just like that, all her feelings from earlier came rushing back at her. Now that the afterglow of great sex had faded, Sloan could look at the situation more objectively.
And oh wow and holy shit on toast.
She was in love.
She was in the middle of the wilderness and she’d fallen head over heels in love with the town lawyer.
How was this possible?
“Are you okay?” Amanda’s concerned expression pulled her from her reverie as they waited in line at the registration table, the loud thump of the base humming through the walls of the main auditorium.
“I really don’t know.”
“It’s a bit overwhelming.”
“You could say that.”
“But come on; look at it.” Amanda pointed to a long display of posters on the wall behind the registration desk. “Don’t you have to have fun when this is your inspiration for the evening?”
