Buck's Landing (A New England Seacoast Romance) (13 page)

BOOK: Buck's Landing (A New England Seacoast Romance)
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“Don’t.” She shook her head slightly. “Don’t say that.”

After a beat of silence, Silas pushed up to his feet, helping her up and off the boat. “We should head back.”

 

~~~

 

Back in Hampton, the nightly party on Ocean Boulevard was only getting started. Silas parked the car and walked her to the stairs leading up to her apartment. He’d stayed largely silent on the half hour drive down I-95 and Route 101. Sofia’s thoughts whirled, unable to fully accept the truth of Silas’s gesture or the deeper truth it represented.

He stopped her at the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

She started to halt his apology, but he continued on.

“I shouldn’t have sprung the boat on you like that. I wanted tonight to end differently.” He pushed a stray hair behind one ear, and traced the line where her scarf held the rest back, still bound from their drive.

“Yeah?” The word wobbled, as did her smile.

“Yeah.” He pushed the scarf down, freeing her hair.

Sofia sucked in a breath. “I think I wanted that, too.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, angling his mouth until his lips were a whisper from hers.

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, tired from weeping, and leaned into the kiss.

At first, he only sampled. Then his tongue was teasing hers, their tangled flavors salty with sadness, still tannic from the wine with dinner, and she forgot to think. She drifted into him, hands splayed out on his broad shoulders, body pressed close to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held on as he deepened the kiss, tucking them both into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.

Hazy with pleasure, Sofia surrendered to the texture of the moment. The boisterous noise of the boardwalk a hum in her ears, the bass from passing cars pounding in her blood, the clean scent of Silas’s soap mingling with the thick boardwalk air. His fair stubble rasped her lips. She threaded her hands into the warm hair at the back of his neck and stretched up to meet him as he nibbled his way along her jaw to her ear.

“Come up to my place.”

His breath against the thin skin behind her ear sent sparks cascading along her body. “Yes.” It was as much of a reply as she could muster.

He wasted no time. In a move Rhett Butler would have envied, he scooped her up under her knees and carried her around the fence, inside, and up the stairs to his apartment. He set her down on the doormat and unlocked the door. Houdini met them inside, purring and meowing with a purely feline blend of joy and annoyance.

Silas held her wrists and walked backward, leading her to his bedroom. The cat followed, squeaking with indignation when Silas shut the door. “Not tonight, cat.”

Sofia had a heartbeat to take in the sparse decor. She had an impression of a showroom floor bedroom set and department store linens before Silas tugged her down onto the bed and covered her body with his own. His eyes glittered in the dark.

“You are amazing.”

For the second time that night, her breath caught. Silas reached down to slide the hem of her dress up and over her knee, and followed its descent down her thigh with his mouth. He raised her dress up and over the other knee, caressing the soft, lean flesh of her leg from ankle to hip.

Hooking her feet around him, she drew him closer to undo the row of buttons that marched down his shirt. He busied himself with the slim straps over her shoulder. Silas freed her breasts from the bodice of the dress. His fingers were feather-light, his mouth hot when he scraped nipping teeth over their sensitive tips. Piece by piece, they bared skin with hungry hands and lips. The night stretched out like taffy, time bending to fit their languid exploration. The same breeze that had chilled them in the marina cooled the flush of desire.

She stroked him, his obvious desire heavy against her palm. He groaned against her mouth when she rolled him underneath her, taking him in, bracing her hands on his chest, and bringing them both spiraling up further, higher, lost in each other until reason broke apart around them.

Silas drew her down, whispering into the indigo shadows. “Stay?”

Sofia nodded, heavy-lidded, and snuggled against him. He pulled a sheet up over them to ward off the breeze, and she slipped into a deep, contented sleep.

She woke to an unfamiliar bar of sunlight and contented feline rumbling in her ear. When Houdini stretched, flexing his paws in her tangled hair, she laughed. She’d fallen asleep with the man and woken up with his cat. Blinking, she scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. Silas’s apartment was empty, but the clock revealed that she hadn’t overslept. Rolling out of bed, she tugged the fuchsia dress over her head.

She padded into the kitchen with Houdini at her heels. On the brown laminate counters was a Stern & Lowe New York mug next to a pricey grind-and-brew machine. A note in tidy block print instructed her to help herself to the coffee. She touched the stainless steel carafe. Still warm. She poured and leaned against the counter, watching the end of the sunrise over the nearly empty beach.

The cat rubbed up against her calves, brushing the dress’s fabric out along his tail. Silas’s teasing echoed in her memory.

“You should never make coffee with clothes on.”

She wondered if he’d made the coffee before he dressed for his dawn run. Out the window, she watched a jogger make his way barefoot along the high tide line. He ran easy, she thought. His body flowed over the sand, without tension or rush. It wasn’t until he shifted his stride to cross the softer sand that she realized it was Silas. Houdini leapt up to the counter and helped himself to some spilled coffee. She scratched him behind his ears.

“Classy animal.”

Houdini purred in reply.

Silas rinsed his feet off at the shower stands; his wet feet left fading footprints as he crossed the beach parking lot and the street. Sofia swallowed the last of her coffee and rinsed the mug in the sink. She was at the door to the bedroom to collect the rest of her clothes when Silas came in.

He swung her around by the waist to face him, greeting her with a kiss tasting of salt and adrenaline. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” was all Sofia could manage before he was kissing her again, smoothing the dress over her ribcage, dipping his hands into the bodice to touch her breasts, bending to take her nipples into his mouth, one tight peak then another. When she peeled his shirt over his head, his skin was hot to the touch under a sheen of clean sweat peppered with fine sand.

Suddenly impatient, she pushed her dress down, shimmying it over her hips. Silas slipped out of his running shorts, watching her undress with a hungry gaze. Reaching for her, he kissed her again. Her head spun with lust and caffeine. He steered them not to the bedroom, but to the adjoining bath.

“Silas?”

“I’m filthy.” His smile was wicked. “I really need a shower.”

 

 

 

 

 

NINE

 

 

Even with the shower, Sofia was still early to work. Amy found her touching up the paint on the Old Man of the Mountain who looked down on the eighteenth green. She had Sofia’s phone in hand.

“Morning, Sofia.” She handed over the phone. “This was ringing when I signed the timesheet.”

Sofia checked her missed calls. “Thanks, Amy. Do you want to open the register or take over for me out here?”

“I’ll take over out here, if that’s okay.”

Sofia opened her voicemail on the way back to the office. The missed call was from Judy.

Sof, it’s Judy. Keep Saturday open. We’re having a cookout around four and it’s about damn time you met Christopher and the kids. Bring dessert and Silas. Don’t worry, we’ll be nice. See you then.

She texted Silas, thinking as she did so that they rarely, if ever, used their phones. The habit of wandering between their two buildings in search of one another had formed easily. Maybe too easily. Her phone pinged. His reply was immediate; he even told her he’d take care of the dessert.

It had been a few days since she’d checked her work email. The hotel had hired a contract manager to carry her workload while she took the personal leave to run the Landing, so there wasn’t much to monitor until she was ready to return to D.C. She’d been grateful for the company’s care and support following her father’s death; she hoped their goodwill extended as far as accepting her application for the promotion.

Setting her laptop down on the desk, she opened her email client. One new message from the personnel director waited. Her stomach lurched. Her finger trembled over her laptop’s trackpad.

 

Dear Ms. Buck,

Firstly, please accept DeVarona International’s deepest sympathy for the loss of your father.  On behalf of the Luxelle Europe division, I’d like to thank you for your interest in the position of Event Director at Luxelle Santorini. We are impressed with your resume and history of service to the DeVarona hospitality brand, and would be pleased to offer you the position, effective September 30. …

 

Sofia read the rest of the offer with trembling fingers. Her imagination spun out a red carpet of opportunity stretching into the horizon. She could wrap up the season in Hampton; Kevin Landry would find her a buyer for the Landing. Her condo in Columbia Heights would be snapped up in a heartbeat. Judy and Chris could visit and have that honeymoon she’d offered. Visions of white sand, azure skies, and sun-soaked days carried her through the remainder of the day, marred by one persistent question.

How was she going to tell Silas?

Even hours later, when he knocked on her apartment door and let himself in, she still hadn’t come up with a perfect answer.

“Hi,” she said, closing her laptop to hide her internet search for real estate on Santorini.

“Hey.” He crossed the room and leaned over the sofa to kiss her. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Good.” She set the laptop on the coffee table, evasions forming on her lips. “Amy and I got some maintenance done on the Old Man; we were busy. You?”

He came around the sofa. “Besides spending a good portion of the day dreaming up ways to get you back into the shower, it was just another day.”

“You don’t need to work so hard at that, you know.” It was so much easier to let him seduce her. “I really ought to shower at least twice a day.”

“Yeah?” He crawled over the cushions, leaning in to kiss her neck. “Does that mean we can get dirty first?”

So much easier, she thought, when his body was warm and solid over hers, when she could push his shirt up over his head and lay her hands on the broad expanse of his back.

She gave her mouth up willingly when he kissed her, surrendering to the ease with which their bodies moved together.

Impatient, she reached for his waistband, but he stopped her, kneeling back. Grasping her hips, he tugged her down on the sofa, settling himself between her thighs. Her heart skipped eagerly when he smoothed his palms up over her belly, kneading her breasts gently over her clothes before raising her arms up.

She let them rest behind her on the arm of the sofa while he unbuttoned her camp shirt and pushed it aside. He watched her, eyes hot with desire, as he parted the fabric, held her eyes while he bared her skin to the cooling evening air. With his mouth he traced the lacy border of her bra as his fingers slipped under the satin. She pushed herself up, half sitting, to shed the shirt and bra.

Silas laid her back and she gave over to him. He took one taut nipple and then the other into his mouth, teasing the sensitive flesh with a delicate scrape of teeth, drawing out the ache of pleasure with his clever fingers.

When her body moved restlessly, pressing against him, he shed the last of his clothing, peeling away her lace and satin, following the fabric with his mouth. She cried out when his tongue teased the center of her wanting. He brought her up slowly, tenderly, taking his cues from her soft sounds, from the skip of her breath. When she tensed against him, he pressed on, pushing her pleasure over the edge.

“Silas.” Her hands clutched at his shoulders, drawing him up. “I want you inside me.”

He responded to her directness in kind, filling her, gathering her close. They came together with an urgency that shocked her.

They never made it the shower, but woke together before dawn in her bed, bodies tangled. Sofia rolled him under her, taking the lead, bringing them both fully awake with sweetness and heat as the dawn broke over the Atlantic.

 

~~~

 

Saturday was weighed down by a still and sullen heat. Sofia changed her uniform polo twice before Amy arrived to cover the evening shift. She showered under cold water and dug in her closet until she found a lightweight skirt and tank top. She twisted her hair up off her neck and skipped her face, opting for lip-gloss to finish her outfit.

She went in the main entrance of Atlantis Market. Silas’s nephew was restocking the sunscreen display. “Afternoon, Ms. Buck.”

At least he didn’t call me “ma’am” this time, Sofia thought wryly. “I’m looking for Silas.”

“He said you could go on up.”

She smiled and headed for the back door and the stairs. Silas met her on the landing in his customary surf shorts and band tee. “Hi, gorgeous.”

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