by Rye Hart
“A yard sale, if you can believe it,” I said.
“You found a first edition copy of Wuthering Heights at a yard sale?”
“Yep. The owner had no idea what he was gettin’ rid of.”
“Did you tell him?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m no saint, not when it comes to you,” I said.
Her cheeks flushed again but it didn’t look as if she had recoiled at my statement, which was progress from where we had been a few days ago.
Wuthering Heights was the book she’d made me read to her one summer in high school. She had friends that had read it and were telling her she needed to read it, but her parents wouldn’t let her. To this day, I still had no idea why, but she was petrified of checking it out anywhere. She didn’t want to leave any sort of trail for her parents to find that would suggest she’d gone against their wishes, so she coaxed me into getting a library card and checking it out myself. But then, she didn’t wanna take it home and it all spiraled from there. What started as a book she wanted to read but couldn’t had evolved into me reading it to her in a corner in the library every single day for an entire summer.
And it was the best hour of my day for those two and a half months.
“I’ve been savin’ it for months, honestly,” I said. “I wanted to mail it to you for your birthday but then I knew I couldn’t see your face. So I kept it for Christmas, just in case you came home. I wanted to see you open it.”
She smiled up at me before she leaned in to kiss me and my eyes closed as I braced myself for her warmth.
“Thank you,” she said, her lips traveling to my cheek.
But I moved my face at the last moment, capturing her lips with mine while we sat there on the edge of her childhood bed.
I expected her to tense and pull away. I expected her to use her father being downstairs as an excuse. Part of me even expected her to be angry and kick me out. But instead, her lips puckered back onto mine and her arms threw themselves around my neck. Suddenly, I was being pulled on top of her, her bed creaking underneath the weight of our bodies as her legs parted for me.
My tongue found hers and they lapped together, striking a match that set a burning flame loose within my chest. My hands meandered over her body, pushing up her shirt while I massaged her clothed tits. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on and she tasted just as divine as she looked. Her hips rolled into my body, coaxing my cock awake while my lips traveled down her neck.
I kissed and I nibbled, pulling from her giggles I knew I would dream about that night.
But before I could free her nipples and taste the beauty of her skin, my fucking phone rang in my pocket.
I groaned while she panted, her hands running through my hair while my glasses began to fog. I reached into my pocket, pressing kisses against her collarbone as I tried to figure out who was calling me.
And of course, it was work.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, murmuring into her skin. “I’ve gotta take this.”
“Work calls for the busy man,” she said as she sat up with me. “Don’t apologize.”
The phone continued to vibrate in my hand while my eyes danced along her body. She was flushed with want and I could already smell that dripping wet pussy waiting for me. I would silently curse this client all through this damn phone call for ruining what could’ve been the best moment I ever shared with Kyra.
Mostly because I didn’t really know if I’d ever get to share it with her again.
“Blake’s Books ‘N Things. This is Blake Trent speaking.”
I slid off her bed and mouthed “sorry” to her one last time before I headed out of her room. I shoved my hands into my pants while the client rattled off in my ear, spouting some bullshit about absolutely nothing while I rearranged my cock. I walked down the stairs and waved a silent goodbye to Mark, who raised his beer at me and smiled.
Then I turned and looked up the steps one last time to see Kyra staring down at me.
She smiled and waved at me before she blew me a kiss and, in that very moment, I knew everything was going to be all right. Kyra was better than this. If she had made up with Chance and had opened herself up to me, there was no way in hell she was considering that dumbass proposal from her fiancé.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - KYRA
Even with Blake spinning through my head, I had to get out and do some last-minute Christmas shopping. I had nothing for the guys, while they all had these wonderful gifts for me, and I still had one more thing I was trying to track down for Dad. I took a quick shower while the feeling of Blake’s lips lingered on my skin. Then I changed my clothes and kissed my dad goodbye before I ventured into town.
The snow had fallen but the roads were clear. The mountains were rising up behind all the little shops. The wind was whipping up the powdered snow as I walked from shop to shop, grabbing up things I saw I knew the guys would love. I searched tirelessly for the customizable stainless-steel grilling set I’d seen for my father, complete with a vegetable grilling tray and a nonstick grilling mat. It would be perfect with the grill I’d bought him last year, ushering him into the idea of propane instead of constantly using charcoal.
He grumbled at first but he quickly grew to like the thing.
I was slinging bags in my car just before my gaze rose. There was a familiar figure looming across the road, staring at me almost like it was in shock. I shut my trunk, hiding the presents I’d already purchased as my vision focused and that was when I realized who it was.
It was Owen and he was crossing the street to walk my way.
All of a sudden, my hands began to tremble. I was nervous and my chest was panting. A chill was rushing down my spine while the wind whipped snow around my body, trapping the fluffy powder in my hair as Owen slowly loomed over my body.
I stared up into his light blue eyes, trying to figure out if he was going to hold me or holler at me.
“You hungry?” he asked.
I was stunned at how even the deep tone of his voice was.
“I could eat,” I said.
“There’s an Italian place a couple blocks up. I’ll get you some lunch.”
He started to walk before he looked back at me. I took one last look at my car, clocking the presents in them as I hesitated.
“No-one’ll take your stuff,” he said.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
I looked back up into his eyes and I saw something akin to regret flash upon the features hidden behind his thick beard. Out of all the brothers, his was the longest, but it somehow suited his massive stature. His broad shoulders stacked on more muscle than some of his brothers had on their entire bodies. Owen slowly rolled them back and, even though I didn’t think it was possible, he seemed even taller when he did so.
“I just wanna talk,” he said.
I figured after everything I’d done, I owed him at least that.
I walked by his side while he warmed me with his body. We dipped into the Italian restaurant, with its aged decor and its low-lit atmosphere and I could already feel my stomach rumbling. I thought back to breakfast with Chance and how our conversation didn’t afford much time for me to eat and, as we sat down, a waitress appeared at our side.
“What would the two of you like to drink?” she asked.
“A bottle of your finest Italian red wine,” Owen said.
I furrowed my brow as the woman wrote down his request.
“You guys know what you want to eat?” she asked.
“I’m gonna have your spaghetti with garlic bread. Kyra?”
“Um… chicken parmesan?” I asked.
The waitress nodded and left to put in our orders.
“Their finest Italian red wine?” I asked as the waitress walked away.
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Harper’s the foodie of the family. I figured ‘finest’ meant it wouldn’t be shit.”
I chuckled and shook my head before I raised my eyes back to his. He was studying m
e intently. That much, I could tell. He was still sorting through things, just like I was, and even though I knew he was upset, it was still comforting to be in his presence.
“You remember that time you tried to cook a massive spaghetti dinner for us and your father?” Owen asked.
“Yes, I do,” I said, snickering. “I burned the noodles instead of boiling them.”
“Still don’t know how you managed that,” he said.
“That was also the night we all learned Harper could cook,” I said. “And I couldn’t tell you how I did it if my life depended on it.”
I could feel myself blushing as the color cascaded down my back. My body heated up under the embarrassment of the memory but part of my body heated because of the gaze Owen had me trapped under. I wiggled in my seat and sat back, trying to find an appealing and embarrassing memory to regale him with.
But before I could say what popped into my mind, he startled me with his blunt admission.
“I care for you, Kyra.”
I whipped my shocked gaze up to his as his words hit my ears at one hundred miles a second.
“I’ve had a crush on you for years,” he said. “Ever since you were in middle school. You were so beautiful, Kyra. The most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I felt like shit, having a crush on you when I turned eighteen. You were still sixteen and I knew your father would just bury me in a hole if he knew some eighteen-year-old had feelings for his daughter.”
“You kidding? He’d bury you now,” I said, grinning.
He chuckled but his mouth went right back to running away from him.
It was so unlike him… and incredibly refreshing.
“I’d given up hope on my crush when you got engaged. But now that you’re here and I’ve—we’ve—experienced all we have with you, I can’t keep it cooped up any longer. Not with what you’re going through. Not with how close I could be to losing you forever.”
His gaze panned up to mine and I saw the hurt behind his eyes, the betrayal I’d enacted simply by taking that bullshit lunch. I saw a vulnerable man with the body of a rocketing comet through space and the heart of a lover with a broken soul. Suddenly, Owen’s strength and musculature didn’t seem so intimidating.
Suddenly, I saw him as that eighteen-year-old boy with a hopeless crush instead of the rugged, strong, calloused I.T. businessman he’d become.
“I’ve always liked you, too, Owen,” I said.
“You’re just saying that. Look, you don’t have to—”
“No, Owen, I’m serious,” I said. “I was serious about what I said that night. That I could never choose between you guys. Do you remember all those summers we spent at the swimming hole?”
“Of course,” he said. “There’s a reason I always volunteered to get in the water and stay there.”
“I always wondered what you looked like without your swimming trunks on,” I said, grinning.
“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one envisioning someone naked there.”
The two of us laughed while Owen’s gaze flashed from insecure to primal. In an instant, the air grew thick around us as the bottle of wine was set down. Our glasses were already full and I grabbed it to sip on but I could feel Owen’s sexual energy pulsing toward me.
Like an animal in heat.
“If you’re still wondering, I’d be happy to show you,” he said.
My eyes hooked onto his from above the rim of the glass and I chugged my wine while I held his stare. I could feel my entire body shaking with anticipation as Owen cocked his head to the side, pulled out his wallet, and threw a few twenty-dollar bills onto the table.
Business must’ve been going well for him.
He held out his hand for me as I set the glass of wine down. He practically dragged me back to his truck, the snow falling down upon us heavier than I’d seen it in years. We were covered in the powdered substance by the time the two of us hopped into his truck and he drove us into an alleyway just before I pounced onto him.
Our lips met with a fire that ignited my bones and, soon, the windows were steaming even as the snow coated the outside of his truck. His lips were all over mine, our tongues raking across one another’s while we drank each other down. His strong, calloused hands were gripping my hips, grinding my heated pussy onto his raging cock while I raked my hands through his dark brown hair. His beard tickled my skin as his lips trailed down to my neck and I giggled into his skin while he growled into mine.
He shoved my shirt up, eyeing my tits while his fingertips danced around the hem of my yoga pants. I could feel his lips grazing across my skin, pulling moans from my throat as I spilled into my panties.
And I knew Owen smelled it.
“Holy fuck, Kyra,” he said darkly. “Your smell…”
He pulled my bra down, popping my tits from their confines. His lips wrapped around them and sucked deep, allowing my back to arch over his steering wheel. In that very moment, he had the perfect angle to slip his hand between my legs and he took it.
I felt his rough fingers part my dripping pussy folds and, in an instant, the pad of his thumb was placed upon my clit.
“Please, Owen,” I said breathlessly. “Please, oh please.”
“Please what?” he asked into my skin.
“Please make me come. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” he asked.
I rose up and looked at him, his heated eyes connecting with mine. He looked like a wild animal that had his prey exactly where he wanted it and I shook in his lap as his thumb slowly began to move. I jolted and moaned, my forehead dipping into his as he released my nipple. He lapped at the other one, feeling my hips rock into his hands before his lips found the shell of my ear.
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” he said, whispering.
His tongue dragged my earlobe between his teeth and I was done for.
His other hand came up to rub my stiffened nipples, tweaking and pulling on them as I rode his hand toward my orgasm. His thumb felt so good and his fingertips were teasing my swelling entrance. I could feel my juices pouring into the palm of his hand while his tongue played against the swell of the side of my neck. I peppered his face in kisses, suckling on a patch of his skin right at his pulse point, just as his thumb picked up its pace.
Soon, I couldn’t see anything but bursting silver stars as I reached my climax.
“Owen! Oh, yes. Oh, fuck. Just like that.”
The windows were so fogged up that we were beginning to drip with sweat. Condensation was running down the windows while the snow melted upon his truck, and in that very moment, all I could think about was feeling him inside of me again. I watched his free hand fall from my breast, his lips encompassing mine as I heard him undo his zipper.
His cock came tumbling out and it was thicker than I remembered it being.
I shivered in anticipation but just as we started working my pants off, my phone rang. I glanced around for it as it lit up on the floor, vibrating around as I watched the tip of Owen’s cock leak out.
“Fuck,” I said breathlessly. “Hold on.”
I bent down and didn’t recognize the number and, for a split second, I thought about ignoring it. But Owen grabbed my wrist and held the phone to my ear, his eyes prompting me to pick it up.
And I’m so glad his gut knew better than mine in that moment.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Kyra Lancaster?” the familiar voice asked.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“This is Dr. Alister, from the hospital. Do you remember me?”
Of course, I remembered him. That voice. Those eyes. He was the doctor that treated my mother up until her death.
“What’s happened?” I asked as I slid off Owen’s lap.
“It’s your father,” he said.
“What the fuck has happened to my father?” I asked.
I’d never seen Owen move so fast in all his life. He tucked himself into his pants and zipped himself up. He raked his hands through his hair bef
ore he threw the truck into reverse, skidding out onto the road while I tried to stuff my breasts back into my bra.
“He’s in the E.R., Kyra. Your father’s had a heart attack.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - OWEN
The moment I heard the word “doctor,” I knew exactly where the fuck we were headed. I gathered myself up and willed my dick to go down as I careened out onto the snowy road. I turned on my lights and wiped my windshield wipers, blowing cool air inside the truck as I tried to get our sex-tainted fog to clear from my windows.
And the moment Kyra dropped the phone, I reached over and held her hand.
I could feel her shaking. She wasn’t saying anything but I’d heard the doctor loud and clear from her phone. Mark had a heart attack and I knew Kyra was automatically blaming herself. Blaming herself for being with me instead of with her father. Blaming herself for indulging the idea of not picking up the phone in favor of my cock that I had ready just for her. I traced comforting circles along the top of her skin while I throttled it to the hospital and, all the while, she stayed silent.
We pulled into the parking lot and I pulled her into my lap before she could get out of the truck. She tried to wiggle away from me, tears forming at the crests of her eyes as I held her to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed kiss after kiss to her beautiful forehead and, finally, I felt her release herself into me.
“Calm down, Kyra,” I said gently. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“My father’s had a heart attack, Owen,” she said.
“I’ll call my brothers. They’re gonna wanna know. Then, we’ll go inside. Together.”
She sniffled into my neck as I grabbed my phone. One by one, I dialed my brothers and, one by one, I listened to them tell me they were on their way. I got out of the truck, holding her close to my body before I set her down onto her feet. She was unsteady, like someone had just knocked the wind out of her. The moment we got into the E.R., they let her go see him.
I heard her shriek before she started sobbing. I pushed past the doctors who were trying to hold me back, growling at them as I pushed them off to the side. Nothing was keeping me from Kyra right now. Not when she needed us the most.
