by LJ Garland
“You…?” Her heart tapped a wild beat under his palms.
“Yes. Even then, I think I knew.”
“What?”
“That you were the one for me.” He teased her ear with his tongue as he moved his hands up to cup her breasts. The top of the dress loosened nicely, allowing him plenty of room to tease her diamond-hard nipples.
She moaned and arched into his palms, tilting her head to the side and leaning back against his chest.
As he rolled and pinched the taut points, he peppered her neck and shoulders with wet kisses then scraped his teeth over her sweet skin. With two fingers, he snagged the front of the dress and tugged it down to her waist. The fabric crumpled around her waist, presenting him with a luscious view. Have mercy.
He laid his head aside hers, his lips near her ear. “Look at you, Sophie. See what you look like.”
Her heavy lids lifted, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.
“Gorgeous. Hot.” He squeezed her breasts then pinched and tugged her nipples. “You in this dress. Sexy as hell.” Dark auburn tumbled over her shoulders, the tips brushing over his hands. A light rosy tint flushed her chest and cheeks. And her eyes had darkened with passion and lust. “Any man who saw you in this would want you. But I’m here.” He pressed his hard shaft against her backside, and, even through all those layers of satin, he had no difficulty snugging up against her sweet round ass. “And I want you.”
“Yes.” Her throaty response poured fuel onto his already raging fire.
He skimmed one hand over her tummy, down beneath the waistband of her panties, and over the soft thatch below to cup her mound. Parting her folds, he dipped a finger inside, easily finding her clit. He rubbed the swollen bud, and she lifted an arm, her hand clasping his nape, and turned her head so their lips met.
He kissed her while he teased and tempted her body, and she moaned into his mouth while their tongues writhed together in sensual caresses. She was liquid silk in his arms, and he couldn’t get enough. When she broke the kiss, he glimpsed her in the mirror.
The wedding dress had slipped lower over her hips, his tanned hands in stark contrast to her creamy skin. Her nipples peaked to hard points. Chest and cheeks flushed with desire. Eyes glazed with passion. And slightly parted lips wet and swollen as he moved his fingers between her slick thighs.
“God you’re gorgeous.”
Shifting his hands, he unzipped the dress enough to let it fall to the floor then he moved in front of her, dropping to his knees onto the cloud of white satin at her feet. He looked up at her while he ran his fingertips up and down the outside of her thighs. The veil crowning her glorious red locks had shifted, flowing over her shoulders now. The tiny pearls dotting the netting glinted like stars.
“Part your legs for me, honey. I need to taste you.” When she did, he lifted one and hooked her knee over his shoulder, giving him complete access.
With his fingers, he parted her folds and, with the flat of his tongue, licked her from top to bottom and back again. Her salty-sweet essence left him wanting more. He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, and her legs began to shake, and she drove her fingers into his hair. He could tell she was spiraling up, but he wanted to push her over the edge.
He teased the hard little bud of her with his tongue and slid a finger into her wet heat. Her fingertips dug into his scalp. Adding a second, he moved them in and out as he strove to drive her higher and higher with his mouth. She rocked her hips toward him, edging closer and closer to her release. Angling his fingers, he searched for her sweet spot to send her flying into ecstasy.
“Oh, I—” Her breath hitched.
Yes. He scraped his teeth over her clit.
“Oh, yes!” Her body jerked then she dug her nails into his scalp.
He stayed with her as she rode wave after wave of her release. She shuddered and shook, and he wrapped an arm around her hip to keep her upright. Before the tremors completely receded, he pushed to his feet and scooped her into his arms. He strode to the bed and laid her on the mattress, the veil haloing her head and shoulders.
He stripped, dropping one piece of clothing after another until he stood naked. Her eyes raked him from head to toe, her focus centering on his hard shaft.
She licked her lips. “I’d like to return the favor.”
The room spun for a moment, and then he forced himself to dig into his pants pocket and take out a condom. “We’ll get to that. But if you do it now, I won’t last.” He ripped the foil packet open.
“Okay, then hurry.”
He rolled the condom on then crawled onto the mattress, settling between her legs. Dipping his head, he kissed her. Sophie wrapped her arms around him then proceeded to draw him further under her spell with erotic caresses of her tongue against his. By the time the kiss ended, she’d left him panting and even harder than before.
Positioning the head of his shaft at her entrance, he paused. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He thrust into her wet heat, burying himself to the hilt. He paused, giving her a moment to adjust to his size. Good God she’s tight. He stared down at her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Please. I need you.” Desire laced her words.
He started with long, deep strokes. In and out, her sheath gloving him. Beneath him, Sophie held him, her nails drawing intricate patterns up and down his back, her eyes locked on his. When she gave a little whimper, he picked up the pace. He wanted to hear his name on her lips again.
Faster and harder, he drove into her, aiming for the sweet spot he’d found earlier with his fingers. Sexy sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing fill the room. It didn’t take long before she writhed and moaned, urging him to bring her orgasm. She panted and grasped at his shoulders, her body tensing. He pumped into her, forcing himself to stay in control until she’d climaxed, but the sexy sounds she made almost did him in.
He gazed down at her lovely face, her eyes glazed with pleasure. Angling his hips, he thrust faster, pushing her right to the edge. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
“Oh!” Her core clamped down on him, gloving him so tight he couldn’t stop his release. “Dawson!”
He slammed into her, sparks flashing behind his eyes. Again, and again. Electric tingles shot through his body, singeing him from the roots of his hair, to his fingertips, to the soles of his feet. She consumed him, and he possessed her fully. And at his center, his raging, fiery need for Sophie burst forth. Jerking and shuddering, he poured himself into her, giving her everything he had until nothing remained.
They stilled, their limbs entwined, foreheads pressed together as they fought for breath.
“That was….”
He gave a rough chuckle. “Yeah.”
He rolled to the side. Cool air brushed his sweat-soaked body, so he pulled her to him, snagged the other half of the bedspread behind her, and covered them. The longer he lay there with her, the more he wanted her with him.
“So.” He twirled and untwirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “My job at Pat’s Irish Pub ends in two weeks.”
She snuggled closer. “Okay.”
“What would you think of going on a trip?”
“A trip?”
“Come to Cedar Valley with me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sophie padded to the kitchen to make them each a mug of some much-needed coffee while Dawson hopped in the shower. She’d already run under the spray, letting the hot water massage her body that ached in all the right places. They’d stayed up most of the night, talking and making love. He’d asked her to go to Cedar Valley with him, and though her heart screamed yes, her brain had a long list of reservations.
In the end, he’d presented the trip as a vacation, not a permanent move. “Once you’ve seen the area and met my family, I’ll answer any questions you have then.”
So, yeah. She’d go with him in a couple of weeks to see his hometown and meet his brother, Andy. After this whole stalker scare,
she had no doubt Jackson would give her some time off. She’d been so focused on her career, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone somewhere just for fun and to relax.
Knock, knock, knock.
Sophie set the mugs of coffee on the counter and headed toward the door. Must be the pizza Dawson ordered.
She opened the door, the porchlight illuminating the last person she’d expected to see. Shock and surprise tore through her. Not the pizza delivery. She moved to slam the door closed.
“Sophie, wait.” The desperation in Hugh’s voice gave her pause.
“I don’t want to see you or talk to you. Go home and leave me alone,” she snapped.
“I just….” He stood out in the yard, a few feet from the porch, long shadows crisscrossing the yard around him. “I came to apologize.”
“We’re done, Hugh.”
“Please. We were friends once. I never should’ve let things go the way they did.”
She yanked the door wider and stomped out onto the porch. “You’re damn right you shouldn’t have.”
He folded his arms across his chest. White tape plastered the center of his face where some doctor had done his best to fix it. That she’d broken his nose should’ve made her feel bad, but it didn’t. After what he’d pulled, he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.
“First, I want to say I’m really sorry. I was desperate.”
“Another mess you got yourself into.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I tried to put my burden on you, and that was wrong.”
Her anger kicked up a notch. “You’re damn straight that was wrong.” She stomped down the steps and met him toe-to-toe, her finger jabbing at his chest. “That was your screw-up. You should’ve just sold your expensive car and paid off your debt. Then none of this would’ve happened.”
“I know. I went to my parents. We had a long talk.” His gaze cast to the ground. “I sold my car. That and the money my parents loaned me paid off my debts.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about your kneecaps anymore.” The sarcasm just rolled off her tongue. She couldn’t stop herself. “You have a problem, Hugh. And you need some serious help.”
“I joined an addiction group.”
“That’s a start.” She shook her head. “What about the bar you destroyed? Pat’s Irish Pub looked like a bomb had gone off inside.”
“I’ll talk to the owner.”
“Yes, you will.” Fury rolled and rolled, mixing with acid in her gut. “I can’t believe you did this to manipulate me into writing a story so you could get money. All this craziness. The video. The laser pointer. Making me run in that wedding gown. But you really went too far when you keyed the side of Dawson’s MINI Couper—”
“Keyed?” His head came up, his eyes wide. “I didn’t scratch anyone’s car.”
“Yes, you did. You scratched ‘She’s Mine’ in the side of it.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I swear I di—”
Hugh started shaking or convulsing…or something. He jerked as if getting electrocuted.
Shock sliced through her anger. “Hugh?”
Then, as fast as it started, he stopped jolting. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground.
“Hugh!” She knelt beside him then set one hand on his chest and the other on the pulse point on the side of his neck.
Someone moved out of the shadows. “Do you need help?”
***
Dawson turned off the shower then grabbed a towel and dried himself. He hoped Sophie would go to Cedar Valley with him for a couple weeks. And a part of him prayed she’d love it enough to stay. Because, well, he’d fallen for her. Hard. And he really couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Cedar Valley. God I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Did everything I could to stay away from there. And now I’m heading back.
Would she find the Podunk town charming or tedious? Hopefully, she’d like it well enough.
He towel-dried his hair.
He’d kinda been dragging his feet on opening the pub with Andy. Not that he didn’t love his brother and didn’t want to open a pub with him, but the idea had been a product of a drunken conversation. He’d never really believed it would go anywhere.
But then it had. And the next thing he knew, he was working a three-month stint at Pat’s Irish Pub. And in three weeks, he’d be heading to the one place he’d never wanted to live.
Not to mention, Andy had found Maureen. The two were inseparable, and anyone who looked at them could tell they were in love.
He hung his towel on the rack.
Admit it. You were jealous he’d found someone as amazing as Maureen when you’d gotten your heart stomped.
Okay, yeah. It had been hard to listen to him talk about her, especially when Dawson had built a wall around his heart to keep it from being hurt again.
But then he’d met Sophie. And not in any conventional fashion of meeting your soul mate.
He pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.
Soul mate. A week ago, I’d never have believed it possible.
But does she feel that way, too? And don’t forget she’s got a job here and dreams of a big career as a reporter.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, the aroma of coffee greeted him. He padded down the hallway and to the kitchen.
Maybe Mary Corbin at the Cedar Valley Gazette has some contacts. On the counter, two full mugs sat. He picked one up, took a sip then glanced around.
“Sophie?”
No answer. She must be in the guest bathroom. He took his coffee to the living room and plopped on the couch. Leaning over, he grabbed the remote and flipped on the television. When a string of commercials came on, he glanced at his watch. The pizza should’ve been here by now. He glanced down the hallway. And what was taking Sophie so long? Had she gotten ill?
He padded down the hallway and tapped on the bathroom door. “Sophie? You okay?”
No answer.
He glanced down. No light came out from beneath the door. He turned the knob and peeked inside. Darkness met him. He switched on the light.
Empty.
He turned toward the living room. “Sophie?”
No answer.
Two minutes and he’d checked the house. He couldn’t find her. Maybe she went outside to meet the pizza delivery person?
He paused at the front door. Had the door been slightly open the whole time? He hadn’t noticed. Worried, he went outside onto the porch.
On the lawn, something dark crouched. He frowned.
“Hey, man!” a voice hollered to him. “I called 911.”
Sophie! Dawson rushed down the steps, his heart squeezing.
He knelt next to the form on the ground, and as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he frowned. “Hugh?”
“He’s alive.” The guy stared at Sophie’s co-worker. Next to Hugh lay a pizza box. “When he didn’t answer me, I checked his pulse first.”
What the hell is Hugh doing here?
Sirens whined in the distance.
“I don’t know what happened,” the pizza guy told him. “I was coming up the walk and just saw him on the ground like this. There’s blood, too. I think he hit his head on one of the bricks lining the walkway.”
But if this is Hugh…. “Did you see a woman? About five-eight or so, dark-red hair?”
The guy shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone else. Just this guy on the ground.”
Dawson glanced around. So, where is Sophie?
Chapter Eighteen
Light.
Sophie opened her eyes. Blinked.
Where…?
She turned her head. To her left, a cheery yellow wall. Looking the other way, she found more walls of cheery yellow. Overhead, a chandelier with crystal baubles and beads hanging from curves of brass. An overstuffed chair wrapped in a floral pattern of ferns and yellow carnations. And a dresser, on which sat a vase filled with…
“Roses.”
Goo
se bumps assaulted her skin, and she tried to sit up but found herself restrained spread-eagle, hands and feet tied to the bed. A comforter covered her—she felt anything but comforted.
She glanced around for escape. Anything. Anywhere.
One door. One set of double-hung windows—soft-white curtains framing the opening. On the dresser next to the roses lay a pair of scissors.
She yanked at the ropes holding her captive, but they didn’t give. If only she could reach those sciss—
The door opened, and a man’s head with a mop of blond hair poked through. His gaze met hers and he smiled. “Well, there you are.”
Tall, skinny. Yeah, she knew him—the guy she’d interviewed at the animal shelter. “Rick!”
He chuckled. “Rex.”
“Hurry!” She lifted her arms. “Untie me.”
“I will.” He wandered by the dresser, bending to sniff the roses. “Do you like these?”
Ice filled her veins. Oh my God! Him? “You sent me all those roses?”
“Do you like them?”
She gulped. She was in the hands of a madman. “Um, sure. They’re nice.”
He faced her. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything? No thank you?”
“I, um…. You didn’t leave a note to let me know it was you.”
He cocked his head, staring at her as though she were a bug he wanted to dissect. Then he smiled and sniffed the flowers again. “Of course. You probably get tons of flowers from all kinds of admirers. But now you know”—he pulled a long-stem rose from the vase—“these are from me.”
A shiver racked her body. “Y-yes. Thank y-you.”
“I’ve dreamed of this moment, you know. Over and over and over. How you’d lie on that bed, waiting for me. How you’d beg me to take you, scream my name as I made love to you. Over and over. Then I’d hold you, and you’d whisper words of love and forever.”
Dear God. He’s crazy.
He walked toward her, his bare feet almost silent on the carpet. When he reached the foot of the bed, he stopped and stared at her, the fingers of one hand flexing and unflexing at his side, the other clutching the rose. “I can’t believe you’re here. With me. You know, when you first entered the animal shelter and asked to interview me, well…I’ll be honest. I thought you’d be like all the other women who came there to pick out an animal companion or to check if their missing furry friend had turned up there. A self-absorbed, snobby bitch.” He shook his head, his gaze never leaving face. “But not you. You smiled at me. You looked at me like…. Well, you know.”
