by Jillian Neal
“John and Arley got caught out in the storm. They flew in completely drenched and went up to her suite. I heard the shower water come on a while ago, but they still haven’t come down.”
Ryan laughed at her pride. “I take it you might’ve had something to do with this.”
“Well, maybe. I mean, don’t you feel it when they’re in a room together? I think they both need each other. I think it could really work.”
“Maybe.” He hid his grimace and sincerely hoped that Ms. Copeland didn’t get her heart broken. He just wasn’t certain that John would ever give a lifetime commitment to anyone.
“I made vegetable soup, from the last of the garden, for dinner. That should warm everyone up.”
“It smells fantastic, baby. Where’s our little girl?”
Sienna swooned. “She fell asleep watching TV in our room. I didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She played in the water all morning with a little boy whose family is renting your old house for the week.”
Ryan lifted his left eyebrow. “That sounds remarkably familiar. Who is this kid? Summertime romances can be completely life changing.” He winked at her.
Laughing and shaking her head at him, Sienna tucked her head under his chin again as he hugged her fiercely. “His name is Dalton, and he was quite taken with her, until she told him there was Gypsy magic here. He said that his daddy said magic was all made up. She pushed him down in the sand rather hard, and that’s when I brought her inside.”
Ryan doubled over laughing. “That’s my girl.”
After a solid hour of naked afterglow that John was shocked he’d loved every minute of, they headed down to the kitchen to see what was going on with dinner. Sienna usually made dinner for the guests on Sunday night, but as far as John and Arley could tell, they were the only guests at the Inn that night.
“I thought we’d just eat in here since it’s just us.” Sienna gestured to the kitchen table instead of the much larger one in the dining room.
“Oh sure.” Arley agreed readily. She smoothed her hair, which had dried in sexy waves that John longed to run his fingers through. He kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He didn’t want to let her go, and she seemed to want to tuck back into him often. It was a sensation he was rapidly becoming addicted to.
Ryan McNamara had been John’s best friend since his parents had all but tied him to a couch inside the Sigma Chi frat house his freshman year at UGA. His daddy was a huge university contributor, and though Ryan had no more business being in college than the man in the moon, he was ushered into frat life with open arms. If John were being honest, he’d tried to take care of Ryan, too. It was who he was, and Ryan sure as hell needed a friend.
The smirk on his best friend’s face said he knew what John and Arley had been up to all afternoon. He’d never been able to lie. Ryan was as honest as the day was long, and he had no poker face to speak of. Sienna elbowed him, but she was fighting to hold back laughter.
“I’ll go wake up Evie. Do you want to come with me?” She offered Arley. John tried to hide his eye roll. He doubted Sienna would get much girl talk out of Arley in that length of time, but he supposed she was welcome to try.
Arley followed Sienna upstairs and Ryan leapt. “Did you have a nice afternoon?”
“I did.” John couldn’t quite hide his pride-filled grin.
“You damn sure look better than you did when you got here a few nights ago.”
“You are aware that this is your kitchen, right? Not our old room in Sigma house.”
“I sure as hell don’t want any details, John. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you sporting such a stupid-ass grin for so long.”
“I’ve been down here like five minutes.”
“Yeah, maybe so, but you’ve been grinning like that since she walked into this house three days ago.”
Eight
There was a moment of awkward tension after John read Evie several books and then helped Ryan tuck her in. He knew Sienna and Arley were having tea and chatting in the kitchen. He just didn’t know the extent of their conversation. He doubted Arley was the kind of girl that would kiss and tell, and he supposed he shouldn’t care, but he did. He wanted to know that he’d satisfied her thoroughly. Truthfully, he wanted her again, right now. He just wasn’t certain he was ever going to get enough of her delectable little body. He wanted to spend hours worshipping her luscious tits that she somehow managed to conceal. Stunning imagery of them dancing in rhythm to his thrusts filled his mind again. And that delectable ass. He almost moaned aloud.
He suspected that fear made her hide her killer curves. She was afraid of her own femininity and her own sexuality. She squelched her urges and passion out of shame. She was so terrified of confirming someone’s derision that she was somehow a slut for the stories she crafted that she dressed herself up like she was half-nun. He longed to rectify her self-confidence and obliterate her shame. He wanted to see her bloom and prove to her that there was nothing more beautiful than a woman that indulged in her primal femininity.
He and Ryan stood in the hallway, neither certain what to do. They didn’t want to interrupt the women, but they also didn’t want to go off and miss an opportunity to spend more time with them either. Rain was still pouring from the skies without end, so going outside wasn’t a great option, anyway.
“You wanna beer or something? The back porch is covered. We could go out there.” Ryan offered, though John knew he didn’t really want to do anything that didn’t involve Sienna.
“Nah, not really.”
Ryan nodded his understanding. They glanced up and down the hallway as if an activity that might interest them was going to appear from the floorboards. A moment later, it seemed the ladies had sensed their hopeful need and they appeared at the top of the stairs, looking thick as thieves. Arley gave John a sexy grin that furthered his weakening resolve.
“I think we’re gonna go on to bed.” Ryan seemed to decide this for Sienna, but she nodded her agreement.
“Uh,” Arley’s voice shook as she opened the door to her suite. “Would you want to come in and hang out for a little while?” Her beautiful sage green eyes held a mix of desire, confusion, apprehension, and hope.
John set to answer every single question. “I thought you’d never ask.” He pushed the door open and followed her inside. His eyes landed on a deck of cards set by her closed laptop. An idea immediately sprang to his mind. Something to break through that completely unnecessary tension brought on by having dinner with another couple when they should have spent the entire evening alone and wrapped up in one another.
“How good are you at poker, baby doll?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Her giggle eased the stress apparent in her eyes. “You already know that I have no money, John. Gambling seems like a really bad way to lose what little is in my savings account.”
“Oh, we’re not playing for money, sweetheart.”
Her intrigue delighted him. She narrowed her eyes but couldn’t hide her broad grin. “And what happens when we’re out of clothes, Mr. Rowan?”
He mocked consideration for a half-second. “I say we play for sexual favors until we’re so turned on I lean you over that bed and have you all over again.”
A debate over playing strip poker with John began in Arley’s head. He was probably a much better card player. She was very likely to be sitting there completely nude, dimples, pudges, cellulite and all before him, while he was fully clothed. Not that anyone would ever complain about his lean, chiseled body when he was undressed.
But an ardent desire to find out just what other kinds of sex John Rowan was into quieted her fears quickly. She always rose to any challenge anyway, and she certainly wasn’t going to stop that now.
Her entire body quivered in hopeful anticipation that she might get to see what John’s version of kink might be. The quickness with which he brought her to climax still shocked her. No one had ever made her entire body quake with their gaze, and being told to come
for him made her feel drunk with a need to comply. He would never do anything she didn’t want. She knew that. She trusted him.
In a moment of impudence, she stalked quickly to her suitcase. There was a permanent smirk affixed to his face. He chuckled as he watched her locate a scarf and wind it around her neck over the t-shirt she’d worn down to dinner. She added a pair of socks to her bare feet and a sunvisor that she’d thrown in to wear if she wanted to read on the beach.
He laughed at her outright. “Nice, but I’m still getting you naked, sweetheart.”
“What? Poker player people wear visors.” Arley felt her cheeks glow crimson.
“Uh huh, dealers wear green eyeshades to cut down on the glare from overhead lighting in casinos and to keep people from knowing when they’re checking your chips. But we’re not playing with chips, and I’m doubting a few rounds of Five Card draw will tax your eyesight too badly.”
“Take off your shoes.” She commanded with a great deal of sass.
John cracked up as he slipped out of his loafers. “I don’t even have socks on, baby doll. I’m not certain this is quite fair.”
Giggling, Arley climbed in the bed and raised her eyebrows. “Are we playing or not?”
John slipped the deck of cards out of the box and joined her.
Her father had always carried a pack of cards in his bag when he was writing. Arley really didn’t understand the practice. She occasionally tried to play Solitaire with them if she got stuck somewhere while she wrote, but it never seemed to help. She carried them because her father had and because her mother and Savannah thought playing cards was crass. She was fairly certain that even her father wouldn’t be too pleased with her current game, but that certainly wasn’t going to stop her. A heady cocktail of rebellion and lust spiked her blood.
“Have you ever played poker, sweetheart?”
“Not well.” She admitted.
“Want me to take my shirt off, too?” Even his chastising was somehow sweet and sexy.
“Would you?”
“No.” He laughed and began shuffling the cards. Arley whimpered at the expertise at which he handled the deck. Clearly, he’d not only played before, he played very well. “All right, baby, Aces are wild, you can trade three, and once the clothes are gone, the length of time a sexual favor lasts is up to the loser of the hand, but the favor itself goes to the winner. You ready?”
“What kinds of things are allowed as sexual favors?” Honestly, she just wanted to hear him enumerate suggestions. Her imagination had plenty of ideas already. Everything from a simple kiss to being tied to the bed and taken forcefully presented themselves like some kind of grand wanton buffet all for her. All the things she’d written about but had never actually experienced flitted through her head. Her imagination had always been far more experienced than her body.
“Anything you want until we’re both thoroughly spent. Remember, I bought two boxes of condoms today.” His wicked grin seemed to sizzle in the heated air between them.
“I remember.”
“I want you over and over again tonight, sweetheart. Every single fantasy you’ve ever had, I want to make them come true.”
Her heart tripped over its next several beats. She managed a slight nod. “I’m ready.”
With great dexterity, he dealt them each five cards, lifted his hand, and grinned. Arley considered her cards. It wasn’t a terrible hand, but John looked very confident. He always looks confident. She slid two of her cards back towards him over the fluffy down comforter.
He gestured to the deck, and she drew two cards from the top. Her face fell in disappointment. She shouldn’t have traded in the 9 and 10. “You’re not trading any in?” His assuredness unnerved her.
He winked at her. “Maybe I’m playing to lose, baby doll. What do you have?”
She revealed the Ace of hearts, King of Clubs, Queen of Spades, a 2 and a 3. He chuckled and showed her an Ace along with two pairs. “Lose the visor, sweetcheeks.”
Rolling her eyes, she tossed the sunvisor in the floor and prayed for better cards as he shuffled the deck again.
A broad grin widened her cheeks as she saw her next hand. She rocked forward in her excitement. John cracked up. “My God, you’re adorable, and never play poker for money or with anyone but me.”
Rolling her eyes, she tried to improve her poker face.
“I’m guessing you’re not trading any.”
She shook her head. When he traded three, she got even more excited.
He shook his head at her and turned over his cards. He had nothing.
“Ha!” She shoved her three of a kind along with a Queen and a 2 in his face.
He arched his left eyebrow upwards, stood off of the bed, took her hands, rubbed them up over his cock, and placed them on his belt buckle. “Unbuckle it.” All of her exuberance over winning bled quickly into craving enthusiasm. His eyes were dark, matching the commanding thrum of his voice.
Her hands shook, but she made quick work of the buckle. John stepped back and jerked the long leather belt from his jeans. The audible friction of the fabrics abrading each other coupled with the snap of the belt as it left its enclosures made her weak with hunger. Her mouth flooded with saliva and liquid heat gathered readily in the satin of her panties. Her nipples drew into stiff points against the lace of her bra, making her pleased she’d added the scarf.
He settled back in the bed, and she willed her heart to locate some speed that fell below Mach 10.
John dealt the cards again. Arley’s expression immediately told him everything he needed to know. The quicker he got her out of the layers of clothes she’d added the faster he could lavish her body with a night of sensual exploration. She had nothing good. That fact was confirmed when she traded in three cards. As he was currently holding three Kings, he let his mind wander to which article of clothing he’d like her to remove next.
As soon as the clothes disappeared, he planned to trade in every Ace and face card he drew. He wanted to know what her requests would be. He wanted to spoil her thoroughly. He wanted to tend her beautiful body until she was willing to share every fantasy that had ever played out in her captivating mind.
He planned to start reading her books that night after he got her to sleep, but he knew she wrote scenes that suited her characters—not necessarily scenes that would please herself. He’d always been an excellent student, and this game was going to be one hell of an instructor.
She huffed and showed him her pair of twos. Laughing, he waggled his eyebrows and held up the three kings. She started to remove the scarf she’d ridiculously added over her t-shirt, but he shook his head. “Your socks, Ms. Copeland.”
“You don’t get to choose!”
“Says who?”
“That wasn’t in the rules!”
“I feel that it was implied.” He ran his hand over his face to try and quell his laughter.
“Objection! It was not implied, nor was it explicitly stated, sexy lawyer-man!”
That did it. He fell to the bed and roared with laughter. When he regained his composure, he shook his head. “Overruled, Ms. Copeland. Now, remove your socks.”
“No.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“You looking for something to lick, baby?”
She whipped off the scarf and flung it defiantly in his face.
Her brazen spite spiked his blood. His jaw flexed as he debated his next move. Her defiance was tempting as hell, and he longed to have his say. Lifting the scarf from the bed he inhaled deeply of the perfume that lingered in its threading, folded it neatly, and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans. That would come in handy later.
Much to his delight, she lost the next round as well. With a smirk, he leaned up on his knees, grabbed her right foot, and jerked her sock off in one fluid movement. He moved on to her left as she began protesting loudly. “Only one at a time!”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He whipped off the other sock and stared at her adorable feet
. Her toenails were pedicured and painted a sinful, sexy red. Good. At least there was something she indulged herself in. There was some part of herself she allowed to shine through, be it ever so small.
She continued to squirm.
“Be still, Arley.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb into the arch of her left foot and watched her body ease at his command. Keeping his fingers massaging her foot in rhythm, he brought it to his mouth and kissed his way from the ball of her ankle to the tip of her big toe.
She shivered and kept her dark, curious eyes locked on his. “I’m ticklish.”
“Good to know.” John spun his tongue between the last two toes on her foot. He drew them in his mouth and began to suck with fervor.
“Oh, my God,” exhaled from her mouth in a breathy groan. Her eyes closed as she gave herself over to his coercion. He lifted her right leg and continued his torment there as well. He slid his other hand down her inner thigh until he could detect the heat forming between her legs through her jeans. He pressed the heel of his hand against her pussy and rubbed until he drew a whimper from her.
With that, he fell back to the bed. “Now, when I tell you to take off your socks, do as I say, baby.”
A shiver of heat quaked over her entire body. She managed to sit up and tried to will the fever that had hued her cheeks away and to swallow down the raw lust he’d drawn from her body. Without that ridiculous scarf, he could see her nipples drawn into hardened tips that he couldn’t wait to suck and nip.
John dealt the cards again, giving her a smug smirk.
“I thought the sexual favors came after we were naked.” Challenge lit her tone.
“I think I’ve proven that patience is not my thing.”
Another broad grin when she studied her cards had him worried. He traded in two and tried to dam back his annoyance with the clench of his molars. She was ecstatic.
“All right, show me.” He sighed.
“This is like a thing, right? A house, or a straight, or something?” She revealed five spades.
