Crash Into You (39 page)

And driving her out of her ever-loving mind.

Her thighs tightened around his waist, and sweat glazed both their bodies. She wouldn’t hold out long. The rising swell of sensation hovered at the edge of her perception, ready to engulf her. She dug her nails into his biceps and clung to the last vestiges of her control, trying to wait for his permission to let go. But just as she thought she would fall apart, he slid out of her, leaving her aching and half insane.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he halted her.

“On your hands and knees, Brynn. Now.”

The steel in his tone went straight to her core, her arousal climbing higher than she thought possible. “Yes, sir.”

On shaking limbs, she rolled onto her belly and got into position.

He gave her a low hum of approval and ran a hand over her
bottom, sending her thighs trembling in response. “Spread your knees and tilt up for me. I want all of you.”

She swallowed hard, knowing what he was going to do. A few weeks ago, the thought would have sent her into a spiral of terror. She’d never given herself to anyone in that way. It had only been taken. Stolen.

But now she wanted nothing more than for Reid to have her there, to chase away every last hint of darkness within her and replace it with the shining light of their love. She had reclaimed her life and now she would reclaim her body. This gift was hers to give.

She widened her knees and opened herself to him. His palms slid along her waist, and he planted a kiss at the base of her spine. Then, his hand dipped in front of her, finding her swollen clit. She jerked, the simple touch sending sparks through her, and she pressed her forehead into the sheets. His voice soothed as his hand worked her. “What do you want, sugar?”

Her body rocked against his hand, needing more of him, all of him. Everywhere. Her words came out in short pants. “Take me, Reid. All of me.”

The warmth of his chest draped over her back as he brushed her ear with his lips. “I’m going to go easy, but you need to tell me if anything is too much.”

He shifted away from her for a moment and dug in the bedside drawer. His hot palms caressed her ass, easing any remaining nerves before he smoothed cool gel over the sensitive opening. She shivered, the chill of the lubricant and the sharp snap of pleasure from his touch a luscious combination.

“You look so fucking sexy all spread and waiting for me,” he said as he eased a well-lubricated finger past the tight ring of muscle and his other hand continued to work her clit.

“Holy shit.” Her hands gripped the sheets, the intense sensation instantly pushing her closer to orgasm. “That’s… oh, wow.”

“Don’t come yet, love,” he said, gently pushing a second finger in, readying her. “Not until I get a chance to bury myself inside this sweet little ass.”

She squirmed beneath his pleasurable assault, using all of her strength not to give in to the seductive call of release. “Please, Reid. Now.”

He groaned and shifted behind her. “I don’t want to hurt you, sugar.”

Sweat dripped down her neck. “I’ll tell you if you do, just please, I need more. I need you.”

Swiftly, he removed his fingers, and added more lubrication to her and then to himself. As his other hand stroked her pussy, he placed the tip of his cock against her snug opening. “Okay, beautiful. Push out while I ease in. It will help.”

She followed his directive, and the blunt head strained against the tight muscles. Oh, God. She wanted him inside her so badly, but her body seemed to be fighting against it.

“Relax, sugar. Focus on letting me in.”

Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax the resistant muscles and pushed back against him. With a deep groan from him and a sharp cry from her, he slipped past the resistance and sent her into a dizzying space of sensual awareness. Every molecule of her existence seemed to light up with edgy pleasure.

His leg muscles tensed and quivered against the backs of her thighs as he held himself still inside her. “Christ, you feel good.”

“Move,” she begged, rocking backward. “I can’t… I need…”

He began to slowly slide back and forth against the sensitive tissues, filling her in a way she’d never imagined, chasing every hint of dark memory from her system.

He pressed his forehead against her shoulder blade, words of adoration tumbling from his lips as he made love to her. But language had stopped making sense. All that was left was overwhelming awareness and rocketing pleasure. Salty tears and sweat touched
her lips, and her nails grappled for a grip on the mattress as she raced toward oblivion. A desperate plea scraped across her vocal cords. “Reid!”

With a growl for her to come, Reid’s pace turned urgent, and he sunk his teeth into the fleshy curve of her shoulder, putting his own brand over the one that monster had left. Her sensory system went into overload, and a scream that didn’t even sound human rattled her throat. Her orgasm exploded behind her eyelids in a thousand bits of pulsing light.

Reid’s voice joined the primal chorus as his own climax overtook him, releasing his liquid heat deep within her. Marking her as his.

Utterly and completely his.

After the room turned quiet and their heartbeats slowed, Reid eased off the bed and lifted her boneless body into his arms. She knew she should probably say something.
Thank you. I love you. You fucking rock.
Something. But she was too drained to even part her lips. Instead, she just let her head rest against his good shoulder as he carried her in to the bathroom and set her on the bench in the shower.

He turned on the water and climbed in with her, letting the warm water soothe their abused senses. With quiet tenderness he soaped her, washed her hair, and wiped off her tear-streaked makeup. “You okay, sugar?”

She mustered a lazy smile. “Perfect.”

“Yeah, you are.” He tugged on one of her wet locks.

She laced her fingers with his and kissed his soapy knuckles. “No, this is.”

Brynn found a parking spot across the street from the Jamison mansion and shut off the engine, her Honda as out of place in the neighborhood as she was. “Well, we’re here.”

Reid smirked at her from the passenger seat. “Yeah, I noticed. What now?”

“I have no idea.” She took one last lingering look at the papers on her dashboard, still not believing the words, then climbed out of the car.

She removed her sunglasses and set them on top of her head, turning her attention to the estate. Not much had changed since she’d visited ten years ago. It was still as breathtaking as she remembered.

And now it was hers—well, half hers.

Patrick Jamison had never been a father to her and never would be. But what he did know how to do was throw money at situations to alleviate his guilt. When he’d found out about what Roslyn and Davis had done, he’d signed over the house to Brynn and Reid as an I’m sorry and had taken off to his beach condo to
escape the glare of the media. So now, here she was, part owner of a house that probably cost more than she’d ever make in a lifetime of social work.

The plantation-style home didn’t have the proverbial white-picket fence, but in all other respects, it was the kind of house Brynn had dreamed of growing up in. All her life, she’d imagined that behind those manicured gardens laid equally manicured families. Families who ate dinner together, parents who loved each other and worked at normal jobs, kids who didn’t have to wonder if their mother would make it home at night.

She’d sworn to herself that one day, she’d create one of those perfect families, create normalcy. Ensure happiness through putting all the right puzzle pieces in place. Now she had the house to do it in. But after the events of the last few weeks, she’d realized it was all an illusion. There were no perfect families. No Leave-It-To-Beaver households. Behind the pretty columns and rosebushes of the Jamison house had lived a cheating husband and a cold-blooded killer. Deadly secrets covered with the shiny wrapping paper of wealth.

She uncurled her fist and stared at the house key in her palm.

The dream she’d sought all her life had been a false one. She could walk into that beautiful home, fill it with pretty things and find a polite husband who played by the rules. Meet lovely neighbors, attend their lovely parties, play with their lovely children. Be on the other side of envy for a change.

And be completely, out-of-her-mind miserable.

She tossed the key to Reid as he came around from the passenger side. “What the hell are we going to do with this thing?”

Reid chuckled. “Not your style, huh?”

She leaned against the hood of the car, eyeballing the ridiculous garden statues. “Hardly. What about you? I know you’re used to living the high life, Prince Jamison.”

He snorted. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough of this house to last
me a few lifetimes. And I don’t want all this. I’m a simple man with simple tastes.”

She rolled her eyes. Reid was a lot of things, but simple would never make the list. “Liar.”

“No, I’m serious.” He stopped in front of her and placed his hands on the car, caging her in. “All I need in a home is a big-screen TV, comfortable furniture, and a beautiful woman—preferably you, preferably naked—to keep me company.”

She laughed. “Is that right? So if I suggested we sell this gaudy thing and buy a house a third its size in a neighborhood without a gate, you’d be cool with that?”

He gave her lips a playful nip. “Have we established if you’re naked in said smaller house?”

“Perhaps.”

“As long as you’re there, I’m sold either way.” He pushed off from the car and stepped back with a smile. “Plus, think of all the money we’ll have left over. We’re going to be able to throw a killer party.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We should probably build the house before planning a housewarming party, don’t you think?”

He shook his head. “We wouldn’t be celebrating a house.”

“What would the party be for then?”

“I know I’m not the most traditional guy ever, but I’m not moving in with you until you make an honest man out of me.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“The collar isn’t enough for me, sugar.” He dug in his jacket pocket and sank to one knee, sucking all the wind from her chest. “I want it all with you. Marriage. Kids. Forever.”

She blinked hard, trying to assure herself that the man before her was real.

He held out a small black box and flipped it open, revealing
a simple but stunning diamond ring. “Will you have me, Brynn LeBreck?”

She gripped the car behind her, her legs threatening to collapse beneath her, and tears filled her eyes. She nodded.

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded again, trying to find her voice. “Yes.”

He bowed his head and kissed her hands. “Thank God, I’d hate to have to cuff you and drag you down the aisle.”

She laughed, the tears catching in her throat, and ran her fingers along the back of his neck. “You know, this is the first time I’ve had you on your knees for me.”

He looked up at her, his blue eyes glittering in the afternoon sun, and gave her a soft smile. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’ve always been on my knees for you, love.”

Evan Kennedy swigged the last of the tequila from the mini bottle as her fiancé’s moans of pleasure drifted through the wall behind her. She set the bottle down and sank back onto the bed, curling her pillow around her ears. This was torture—absolute Geneva Convention–worthy stuff. Next time they stayed in a hotel, she would make sure the suite had two bedrooms that didn’t share a wall.

How was she supposed to sleep with that kind of erotic soundtrack in the background? Especially when the only company she had in her room was the hotel’s mini bar and a subpar selection of cable stations.

The heavy thudding of a headboard banging against the wall started up, rattling the three empty bottles on her bedside table. Oh, the guys were on their game tonight, obviously celebrating the good news they’d all gotten earlier in the evening. No telling how long their show would go on. With a heavy sigh, she threw the comforter off her legs and climbed out of the bed, happy to find she only wavered slightly.

She needed air. Or at least someplace where two happy lovers weren’t sharing passionate, wall-rattling sex while she lay in bed alone.

She yanked on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then tucked the last mini bottle of tequila into her pocket. The bar downstairs would be closed by now, and although she rarely drank, tonight she had the urge to get comfortably numb. She just had to make sure not to run into any of the people here for her and Daniel’s couples’ seminar. That certainly wouldn’t reflect well on the company. And the last thing she felt like doing was getting into a row with Daniel about “professional image.”

After running a brush through her hair, she stepped out of her bedroom and threw one last glance at Daniel’s closed door. The moans had turned to dueling male grunts. Clearly both parties were having a good time. An unexpected pang of sadness hit her in the gut, and her eyes burned as if tears were going to flow.

What in the world?
Her hand went to her cheek, but of course no actual tears were there. She never cried. But that burning was the first sign she’d had in years that she was still physically capable of tears.

She shook her head. Maybe it was the tequila.

And the close quarters.

A walk would help.

She shut the door with a soft snick and made her way down to the lobby. As expected, things were quiet. The overnight desk clerk glanced up at her with disinterested eyes. She gave him a quick smile and turned in the opposite direction to head toward the pool and the beach beyond.

She slipped through the exit door, and the warm Gulf breeze wrapped around her, lifting her mood a bit. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air, letting it fill her lungs and hoping it would clear her head. But as soon as she opened her eyes again, the glowing swimming pool seemed to tilt in front of her. Whoa.
Maybe she had overestimated her liquor tolerance. Three shots of tequila might have been two too many. She grabbed on to the back of a nearby lounge chair to steady herself.