Savor (Cottonwood Falls, Book 5) (4 page)

“Sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. I shouldn’t have stormed off, especially
leaving you to think I’d murdered my wife.”

She dried her hands off on the towel and removed her
music completely. Then, she walked to stand directly before him. “I
don’t think that, at all.”

“I may not have driven her into that guardrail, but
I may as well have. She was taking Javier from me because we’d had
a fight, and she was going to see her parents.”

Piers reached out to draw London close, grateful she
didn’t struggle against him. He wanted to relish the pleasure of
her curves along his body. To calm the storm within him. On one
hand, it worked; on the other, he had her pressed into him, and it
created another brewing storm.

“You can’t take the blame for something that
happened when you weren’t there.”

“That’s exactly why I can. I wasn’t there. She was
driving without me.”

London leaned back and stared in his face. “You said
you had an argument. If you had, chances are you wouldn’t have been
driving her anywhere, anyway.”

He kissed her, closing his eyes as her taste sank
into his soul. “You’re a unique woman, London.”

“Not really. I just know things happen. Her death is
a loss, but you have your son.”

“I don’t usually share about her with anyone.”

She gave him a wry grin. “I have that way about
me.”

“I think it’s more than that. Do you want some
dessert?”

She moaned slightly and shifted her lower body to
brush along his. “Of sorts.”

“God knows I want to fuck you until you can’t see
straight, London.”

She whimpered and moved again. “Yes.”

He tipped her chin up so he could stare in her eyes.
“But I’m not taking you to bed after we just talked about my dead
wife. We’re going to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie.”

“And I get dessert?”

“Yes, you do. Go grab a seat, and I’ll be right
there.”

She left, and he gripped the edge of the counter.
Breathing deeply, he tried to control his raging emotions. He’d
always been a man ruled by emotions. It had served him well in the
ring, allowing his anger and rage at the slander his opponent
tossed in his direction to dictate his level of attention to the
details of how he needed to beat them. This was different. His
emotions made him want to open up more to London. Allow her in. He
didn’t know how to explain it about this woman.

He’d seen her around town for over a year, and he
felt more comfortable with her than he had ever done with his
Javier’s mom. Not that he was glad she was dead, but he knew he
didn’t mourn her as he should. Because she was the mother of his
son, not the love of his life. They were barely friends, putting on
a façade for the outside world.

London was different all the way around. Shaking off
his emotions, he made some popcorn and grabbed some cookies. He
didn’t keep much in the way of dessert around the house.

“Here we go,” he said, walking in the room.

She looked up at him from where she leafed through a
book. One of Javier’s, and he bit back his apology for having it
left out. There was a smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled when
they met his.

“I love this book. All the
Magic School Bus
books I enjoy.” She placed it back on the table and sat up.
“Popcorn?”

“And cookies. Actually, they’re Javier’s, but I’ll
get him some more before he gets home.”

“Not much in the way of a dessert eater?”

“Nope. Wasn’t good when I was fighting. Just not in
the habit of eating junk.”

“I am,” she said, smiling as she relieved him of the
popcorn bowl. “I love junk.”

He sat beside her and pressed the remote, bringing
on the large screen television. Handing it to her, he allowed her
to pick a movie and just sat beside her, waiting for her
decision.

“You don’t have a preference?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“Hmmm.” She found one of the Marvel movies and
grinned. “This work?”

“Yes.”

She settled against him with a small sigh and began
eating some popcorn. “Awesome. I love
The Avengers
.”

He hadn’t watched it but found himself being drawn
in. She insisted keeping the bowl on his lap so when her hand
swiped against his cock, he sliced his gaze to her. She wasn’t
looking at him but staring at the screen as she popped some kernels
in her mouth. His shaft jerked in his pants. From this angle, he
could see down into her shirt and view the globes of her
breasts.

Another brush against him had him snapping his eyes
back to her. This time, he saw her touching him. She went for the
button on his pants.

“London?” His voice slid from his throat in a
croak.

“Shh,” she hushed him. “I’m having my dessert.”

He bit his lower lip and leaned back as she unzipped
his jeans with caution. A groan left him when she pulled him out.
Time stopped as he waited for her warm mouth to settle over him.
Her hand closed around him, and her tongue snuck out for a few
licks before she drew him in.

“Fuck,” he uttered.

Her tongue swept around below the crown as she
bobbed her head on his length. Up and down, she moved, her hand
accompanying her mouth, pumping the part not between her lips. He
sank his hand in her hair, holding her to him, hips bucking. She
took him in deeper and increased the suction.

He dropped his eyes shut and fisted his other hand
at his thigh.
Holy shit. Her mouth is incredible.

He hissed in pleasure as she added a graze of teeth.
She shifted against him and got more on her knees as she continued
to suck him off. Piers cupped her ass with one hand, caressing the
firmness beneath his fingers. She wriggled against his touch
without lifting her attention from him.

She moaned, the vibration rippling up his shaft and
moving along his balls. He shifted against the seat. “God damn,
London.” The words fell from his mouth like a prayer, or a curse.
He wasn’t sure, but her skill was driving him to distraction.

Piers skimmed his hand between her legs, cupping her
pussy. He wanted inside of it. Wanted her slick velvet heat
surrounding him, gripping him, milking his cock. She whimpered and
rubbed against his touch.

The tingling in his balls slammed him without
warning, and he barely got a word out to her about his release
before it burst free of his dick. She took it all, not releasing
him until no more came from him.

Tightening his hand, he lifted her head to his and
captured her mouth. “Strip,” he ordered.

Her tongue swiped her lips, and she placed her hand
upon his chest. “You’re giving me the option? And here I thought
you’d just bend me over the arm or back of the sofa, rip them down,
and fuck me.”

He rose in a single motion. “Sounds like a plan to
me.”

Chapter Four

London arched her back as Piers fucked her. Sweat
ran down her skin to combine with his own perspiration. The
microfiber material pressed against her belly while Piers’ hard
body covered her from behind.

His cock, long and thick, filled her with each
powerful stroke. His thrusts raised her up on her toes as his
fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. Her legs trembled with
exhaustion, but her lover showed no sign of slowing.

Air passed her lips in pants and whimpers. Her voice
had long since become raw from previous orgasmic screams. Piers had
taken her hard and fast the first time. Now, he was working it. And
her.

Her legs wobbled again, and she willed more strength
in them. He fisted hair, drawing her head back.

“I don’t want to stop fucking you.” His voice, akin
to velvety sandpaper, rasped along the skin of her neck.

“Then, don’t,” she gasped, another orgasm teetering
near. “Ah, shit.”

He nipped her shoulder. “I’ve got you, baby. Let it
go.”

She took his at his word and gave up trying to stave
off the roiling orgasm as she allowed the couch and him to support
her weight. His cock drove up into her, catapulting her off the
precipice and into a swirling mass of pleasure and delight.

He latched his mouth onto the side of her neck, one
hand still in her hair, the other cupping her breast, fingers
pinching the pebbled nipple. She shuddered with euphoric bliss.

“I could fuck this pussy forever,” he growled
against her skin.

She struggled to keep her breathing controlled. A
failed operation. He thrust again and again. Sinking in,
withdrawing until only the tip remained then slamming back,
eliciting another gasp as he came deep. The experience of his
pulsating cock wrung out a final orgasm from her.

He released her nipple and wrapped his arm about her
waist. Still embedded within her, he walked them to the large dark
oak table overlooking a massive yard. Piers withdrew, turned her so
they faced one another then spread her legs again.

The wood was cold beneath her ass. He stepped
between her legs, and she reached out with one hand, wrapping it
around the nape of his neck to encourage him closer. “Table?” Her
throat was still raw.

“Couch, table, counter. Rug.” He dominated her
mouth. “We’ll make it to bed, eventually.” He grasped his cock and
stroked it while pinning his intense gaze on her.

“What the hell?” she muttered before kissing him
again.
I may as well do what I want here. I’ve already crossed a
line. And…he’s…so damn good.
“Let’s do this.”

His rumbled response was lost as their mouths mashed
together.

***

London stirred then groaned. Aching muscles
screamed, and she stilled.
I’m sore. Oh, my God, I’m sore.
Amazingly sore. And it was well worth it.

She cracked open her eyes, gazing about the massive
bedroom.
Where is he?

The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the bed retained the
warmth from the man it belonged to. Turning her head, she stared at
the soft blue digital numbers on the wall. Three minutes after
four.

London sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. A low
divider separated the room into two sections, his bed on one side
while the other had chairs and a fireplace.
Plus the rug that
gave me the burn on my knees.
Low flames flickered in the
hearth.

She chewed on her lower lip as she sought her
clothing. No luck. Her socks were on the floor, but other than
that, nothing.
Crap.
An article of attire hung over the
divider, and she slipped from the smooth sheets. It was Piers’
black button down, and she drew it on, loving how his scent
surrounded her as the material fell around her.

After pausing by the fireplace, she padded out of
the room and down the carpeted stairs to the first floor. A glow
from another fireplace drew her, and she walked in. Piers sat in a
large recliner, a drink in his hand.

“Did I wake you?”

“Nope,” she said, walking nearer to his seated
form.

He beckoned her closer when she stopped away from
him. The moment she reached him, he snaked his arm around her
waist.

“I like you in my shirt.”

She gazed askew at him, his tone bothering her being
flat and devoid of emotion. “Everything okay?”

He inched up the skin on her thigh, fingertips
singeing her where they touched. Without a word, he guided her to
straddle him. Shins resting on the cushion, she dragged the back of
her hand down his chiseled features. In the firelight, his eyes
were darker, and still, they made her belly clench with need.

“I want you to stay.”

She lowered her hand to the hard planes of his
chest. “But?”

“My son will be home soon. She has this tendency to
bring him early.”

London didn’t want it to end, this time between
them. “I’ll get my things.” She wasn’t a clingy woman, and they
didn’t exactly have a deep, meaningful relationship going on here.
He gripped her hips, keeping her anchored to him.

“London.”

It was the anguish in her name that stopped her from
struggling to remove herself from his lap. She held him tightly,
arms around his neck and burying her face in the hair on his head.
Soft and silky with the scent of freshness. She didn’t ask him to
elaborate. Everyone had demons. She was a nurturer, and she
couldn’t,
wouldn’t
, leave him when he wanted her to stay.
Even if he didn’t voice those exact words.

***

“Papá!”

Piers snapped up in bed, eyes darting around for
London.
Damn it! I knew we shouldn’t have come back to bed. I
lost track of time, and now, my son is home.

Words that were easier said than done. With her lush
body, all he’d wanted to do was savor every incredible inch. They’d
gone for another marathon of sex until lunch then had fallen
asleep. He shook those thoughts away and climbed from the bed.

Where is she?

Pants clearing his hips, he’d just reached for his
shirt when Javier ran in the room, his grandmother not far behind.
With a hug to his boy, Piers turned to greet his ex-mother-in-law.
He pulled on his shirt then picked up his son again.

“Carla.”
What is she doing up here?
Her dark
eyes darted around the room, and he arched an eyebrow. “Looking for
something?”

“A bit early to be in bed, isn’t it? It’s barely
suppertime.”

Placing his son on the floor, he brushed a hand over
his head. “Hungry?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen, then.”

“Okay.” Javier scampered off.

I wish he’d show some of that outgoing attitude
away from the house.
The moment the boy was gone, Piers glared
at the woman there, dressed in expensive clothes and jewels. “Do
you have a reason other than being a bitch to come upstairs in my
house and act like I am doing something wrong?” He crossed his
arms.