by Emily Bishop
In one swift movement, Summer climbed on top of me and grabbed my hands in hers in a weak attempt to pin them against my sides.
Propped on top of me, Summer’s silky skin made contact with mine.
Too late.
My body responded to hers with a thirst, a physical urge that bordered on insanity.
My dick hardened with need for her.
I wanted to take her right there and then.
“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, but my voice came out as if I had been pressed underwater.
Shit. Even my voice betrays what she does to me.
Summer’s face directly hovered above mine, and the ends of her ravishing locks tickled my cheeks. A smug gleam past through her eyes, and I recognized what this was.
She thought she had the control and power.
Little did she know.
“You didn’t answer my question, so now you have to face the consequences.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Oh really? Is that so?”
And then I went for it.
In one quick second, I rolled out of her grasp and grabbed hold of her hips. Summer squealed out in surprise but didn’t react fast enough. I swung her to her side until I was on top, and I had her hands pinned above her. She was my prisoner now.
Her eyes narrowed, and her breathing broke out unevenly.
I paused to survey the sight before me. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was evened out on my pillows like velvet rope. Clad in my oversized T-shirt, she was very much mine.
All mine.
Slowly, slowly, I ran my fingers down, to the long place where the insides of her bare thighs met, and she quivered underneath my touch.
Not wasting another second, my mouth crashed into hers, and she parted her lips open in invitation.
Holy fuck, she tastes good.
Like cinnamon and honey, blended into one. I couldn’t get enough of her.
As our tongues moved in rhythm, I closed my eyes and surrendered to my primal desire for her.
Her nipples stood up against my T-shirt, begging for my touch.
You win, baby.
I released my hold over her hands and Summer sprung at me like a wild cat, exploring and stroking her way across my body, until her fingers settled on my back, forming rivulets of ecstasy up my cock.
I responded the only way I wanted.
I slipped my hands underneath her T-shirt and cupped her bare breasts, suppressing a guttural moan at the feel of them, as smooth as warm cream. I rubbed and massaged her taut nipples, relishing the way she squirmed underneath my touch.
Blood pounded in my temples and cock.
“I want you so fucking bad,” I murmured.
Summer’s eyes glazed over and she nodded, panting, “What are you waiting for?”
That was all the permission I needed. I ripped apart the T-shirt off Summer’s skin and made a mental note of all the clothes I had shredded to pieces because of my unchecked longing for her.
It was all worth it because she was fully exposed now, and I gulped as my eyes roamed downward to her bare pussy.
As if reading my own thoughts, Summer murmured in my ear, “What’s the point of panties when you just rip them apart?”
I replied by placing my fingers over her wet clit and massaged it in loops, just how she liked it.
A whimper escaped Summer’s lips.
Fuck she’s beautiful.
It wasn’t enough. I needed to taste her too. I bent down, and her legs opened up for me immediately. She was with me every step of the way.
Inserting my tongue deep inside her, I licked and sucked her wetness, taking in the very sweet essence of her. Her legs trembled, and I steadied them with my hands.
“James.” Summer’s voice came out in broken rasps, and I applied deeper pressure into her.
“I want to come inside you. Can I?” My own voice matched hers, and I lifted my head upwards to meet her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed on mine, her eyes glassy.
“Please, now,” she begged.
I was going to make her call out my name.
I lifted Summer up by her tight butt cheeks, and she wrapped her long legs around me in a vice. I carried her off the bed and against my wardrobe.
Summer let out a sexy moan, and then she dove in for another long kiss that left my head spinning in circles.
We used our bodies to get high. We touched, we roamed, we begged for more. And all the while I kept thinking, I can’t get enough of her.
I pulled away from her lips, and she pouted.
“Tell me how you want it, tell me how you want me,” I said as my eyes stayed interlocked with hers. For a moment I lost all clarity.
She rendered me speechless.
“I don’t want it gentle.” Summer’s words came out quietly, almost in a whisper.
I smiled at that. I could definitely oblige.
Pulling my briefs down, I enjoyed the look of awe that lit up Summer’s face as she trailed her gaze down to my hard dick. Without wasting another moment, I turned her around so she was pressed against my dresser, and then I slid into her wet hot pussy from behind, relishing how easily we fitted together.
“I won’t hurt you,” I murmured into her ear, and she moaned in reply.
“Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
I grabbed hold of her right leg, and with the other hand I grabbed hold of her beautiful butt. I rocked into Summer and she cried out my name as she tossed her head back.
Holy fuck. This woman is a goddess.
Being inside her so completely, so fully. No words could describe that moment.
“You feel so fucking good, Summer. If only you knew just how much—"
Summer cut past me, gasping, “fuck, James, this is amazing.” Her body rose up to meet mine, matching my fast rhythm.
We found our momentum, our beat, and rode it out in one long climax. As I soared higher and higher, the familiar welling of pressure rose up inside me, followed by a tingling shot of electricity, fueling up my body with intense heat. Giddy with her, my vision grew hazy as I surrendered every last part of myself into Summer. Our paths converged, and she met me head on, crying out my name in one last swoop.
Fuck me. I’m in trouble.
I was completely and irrevocably in love with Summer. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Chapter 13
Summer
I pulled up my car in front of the Outpost Motel and took a moment to collect myself. This was supposed to be a harmless little trip to the motel to grab my spare camera batteries and fresh change of clothes, because well, James ripped half my clothes apart, but my mind had ambushed me.
My last sense of inner calmness had fizzled out as thoughts overpowered my ability to function.
My heartbeat was fully disconnected with my measured breaths. It had ventured into rogue territory.
I was in love with James.
In fucking love with that man.
How was that possible?
My heartbeat responded, fluttering out of my chest. I sucked in a deep breath to calm the web of knots forming in my throat.
I had heard about the all-consuming love depicted in movies and romance novels. But I never thought it would happen to me. Not so quickly, all at once. James had seared himself into me and had settled into my bones. And I couldn’t resist. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
Doubts shot up in my head, completely uninvited.
I was based in New York, with my entire career in front of me. He was here in Texas, with no desire to ever go back to the city that had destroyed him. He owned a cattle ranch. I was vegan, for god’s sake. He was cynical about life and was a brooding human in general…and I, well I was me. Foolishly optimistic—to a fault perhaps.
How was this going to work?
My thoughts took over, stealing my last semblance of calm.
James was a closed-off, infuriatingly unpredictable man with major trust issues. He had a crazy ex hell-bent
on winning him back.
But. But but but. There was always a but with me.
James was also incredibly beautiful, insightful, considered. So smart, with a good heart…that is what I had seen in him. Sure, I had to wade in up to my neck through the murky deep pond to see that, but it had been worth it. Because now, I was completely in love with him.
Holy moly.
An internal battle took hold, shredding me in two.
My mind repeated itself like a mantra. How was this going to ever work out?
I rested my head against the steering wheel and let out a long, frustrated sigh.
I was a positive person, but there was nothing positive about our situation.
And then the negative thoughts invaded my mind.
My love for him has an expiry date.
Just then, a knocking sound jerked me upright in my seat. I diverted my gaze to my car window, and of course, it was no one other than Bruna who stood there, with her arms wrapped around herself assertively.
Fate was a bitch.
She smiled at me, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
What the actual? How does she know I’m staying here?
Dread seeped into my belly, and my breath hitched. We stared at each other like that through the window for a good long second before a frown escaped her lips.
I decided she didn’t deserve the effort, so I unrolled my shitty car window down and peeked out.
“Bruna.” I nodded curtly in acknowledgement, my voice wrathful.
Bruna was wearing tight black pants, pointy high-heeled boots, and a chemise, as if the 113 degrees Fahrenheit didn’t bother her at all. Her immaculate makeup and cat-eye-lined eyes observed me coolly.
“I thought I might catch you here.” Bruna spoke matter-of-factly, as if her little stalking incident was no big deal at all.
I bit back the urge to roll my eyes.
There was no point in beating around the bushes, so I dove right in. “What do you want?”
Bruna’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, probably at my own bluntness, but then she recovered quickly.
She pursed her lips together in one thin line and then smoothed her hands over her straight dark brown hair, as if her hair needed reassurance for this impending conversation.
What a self-centered woman.
“I couldn’t leave town without warning you about James. We got interrupted last time, so I wanted to make sure I could catch you alone,” Bruna admitted, her voice taking on a jeering tone.
The words hit their mark. It was as if I had just plunged off a cliff and bungee-jumped my way to a heart attack. The words lodged in my throat, and I had to take a subtle sharp breath to steady the onslaught of uneasiness that pervaded my consciousness.
There was nothing good about this situation.
“You mean ambush me? What a great tactic,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t be so dramatic. Dripping Springs is a small town.” Bruna flashed me a sly smile.
“Too small,” I cut in, fixing my gaze at her. I didn’t return her smile.
“I’m just doing you a favor here. You’re going to marry the man, not me. So you might as well know what you’re getting into. Knowing James, I don’t think he’s told you the whole truth about himself.” Bruna was enjoying herself. I could tell by the way her eyes lit up in excitement. She took a step forward toward my car, almost possessively, and then bent down, resting her arms against my rolled-down window.
We were inches apart from each other now. Her heavy, sickly sweet scent wafted in, smelling awfully similar to my old boss’s Chanel perfume which lingered in rooms long after she had left the premises.
It was so potent and all-consuming that I almost gagged. I decided to breathe through my mouth instead, although vomiting on Bruna wasn’t such a terrible idea.
Bruna had some nerve, cornering me like this and intimidating me with her words.
“Stop dangling the carrot over my nose, and get right to it.” I gritted my teeth, bracing myself for impact.
The quicker she cut through her crap, the quicker she would leave.
Bruna wasn’t expecting this. The smile left her lips, and her expression turned stony-cold.
Her next words came out in almost a hiss.
“The Smith family wanted justice after News Out There hacked into their missing daughter’s phone and published distressing messages on their newspaper. They went so far as to delete voicemails to free up space. The family thought their missing daughter was alive. Take a guess what happened next.”
Her words opened up the dam of memories. I had heard about this fucked-up case at University. News Out There was an ostentatiously sensational newspaper that was accused of hacking into its subjects’ phones and emails for human-interest news stories. The case had gained great traction when the Smith family launched a lawsuit against the newspaper, accusing them off hacking into their kidnapped fiteen-year-old daughter’s phone and deleting voice messages, giving the family false hope that their daughter was alive.
But how was James connected to this?
Bruna must have sensed the uncertainty, the niggling doubt, the anxiety that carved into me as a result of her words. Her face split open into a malicious grin.
I wasn’t a violent person, but this was too much…I had a sudden overwhelming urge to punch that smile off her face. I clenched my knuckles instead, gritting my teeth together.
“This isn’t your story to tell, Bruna. James will disclose things about himself when he’s ready.” My voice wavered slightly, betraying the effect her words had on me.
Bruna cocked her head to the side watching my expression like a hawk. “You’re not interested to hear how James protected this disgusting newspaper and defeated the Smith family? You’re not interested to hear about James’s ambition and how it tears apart people? Don’t you want to wake up to him as a partner, not a stranger?”
Enough was enough. I suddenly opened the car door to my left without warning, and Bruna’s chin slammed against the brunt of my force, her made-up face jerking back like a rag doll.
A cry slipped past her, and I climbed out of the door, relishing the shock on her face.
“You bitch,” she squealed.
“You’re enjoying yourself way too much here, Bruna. I just had to do something about that. You claim you love James, but you’re fucking enjoying this, talking shit about him, wanting to bring him down. Well guess what, Bruna? I’ve had enough of your bullshit,” I snarled.
My vision darkened for a fraction of a second, as pure unfiltered rage coursed through my blood, pushing me a step closer to losing control.
“Go google him. See what comes up. I’m not so sure you’d want to marry him after that,” Bruna taunted.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” I exploded, all restraint gone.
Bruna’s resolve wavered, and she took a step backward, almost in caution.
It dawned on me then that she too thought I was going to hit her.
“I’m still in love with James, OK? I want him back and think you’re wrong for him. I’m going to tell him myself, one way or another.” Bruna sneered, and despite the physical tension between us, she braved my stare.
Our eyes locked together, a combined energy of anger, loathing, and unwavering defiance.
She thought she was going to win him back?
What a joke.
“Open your eyes, Bruna. You’re delusional to think that would ever happen.”
“I’ve known him my entire life, Summer, and what you’ve known him all of five seconds? He isn’t even comfortable enough to disclose his past to you, and you take that as a good sign in your relationship?”
Her words struck a chord in me. I knew I didn’t know him that well and had no right to demand that he explain every part of himself to me, but how far off were Bruna’s words? Hadn’t James himself admitted that he had it in him to forgive this loathsome woman in front of me one day?
Bruna’s job was comple
te. She raised up her hands in mock defeat.
“I’ve come here to warn you, that’s all. I’ll leave now. Have a great rest of the afternoon.” Bruna’s words rang in my ears in bitter cynicism.
Yup, you’ve thrown me off and ruined my day, but I’ll have a great afternoon, thanks.
She didn’t spare me another glance.
Her clicking boots marched off, and she slipped into her red Jeep across the parking lot. In one quick swoop, she backed out and drove off, leaving me feeling hollow and abandoned on the side walk.
Her job was indeed complete. Because now I had no choice but to break my promise to James. I had to google him. How could I not after what she had just told me?
I practically ran up the stairs and up to my room, to my laptop, to some twisted version of truth about the man I had fallen for.
Are you ready for this?
The voice murmured its way in my mind, casting a seed of doubt in my mind.
I guessed I would find out.
As I slammed shut my hotel door, I attempted to calm my pounding heart, but to no avail.
With shaky hands, I made my way over to my laptop and opened it up on my bed.
As it booted up, my fingers hovered over the browser for a lingering second.
There was no going back after this.
I took a deep breath and dove into the task at hand. I googled his name.
The results popped up instantly, wrapping my heart into a tight hold. My eyes scanned through the content as my brain computed his past, piece by piece.
It was the media’s version of a truth, but the facts were there for the world to see at the tip of their fingers.
James Owen was a billionaire. Ex-socialite. A hot-shot lawyer who destroyed his opponents in court. His victories were bragged about. The media even coined him a nickname, the anointed Iron Fist that never lost a case.
And then the case popped up. News Out There v Smith. A video clip was attached to the video.
I hovered over the mouse for a fraction of a second and clicked it.
James’s face jumped up in front of me.
He was standing in what looked like the front of a courthouse on the steps. He was side-by-side with a middle-aged man with cold black eyes.
James was clean-shaven, and he wore an expensive crisp suit. His hair was cut shorter. He looked like a true lawyer. His eyes were stoic and calculating.
