Chapter 8 #3
“Bryson,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that fluttered over the drumming rain outside. “Don’t make me beg.”
He licked his lips. “I always liked it when you did that.”
“Just remember what they say about payback.”
He groaned as he gently removed her lacy thong.
The tips of his fingers traced over the soft skin of her thighs, eliciting a shiver from her, her muscles tensing under his touch. His fingers flirted dangerously close to her core, her soft gasps and whimpers only stoking his desire.
He dared to glance at her face, her cheeks flushed and her eyes half-lidded. Her lips parted, and she breathed out his name, like a plea, like a command, all at once.
“Bryson.”
With that, he moved closer, his fingers exploring her, her hips lifting to meet his hand.
Her body was a furnace, and he was being sucked into the flame.
He reveled in it, the intensity of her desire burning his fingers as he delved deeper.
Her whimpers turned into soft cries, her back arching off the bed like a bowstring pulled taut.
The primal need was potent, blurring his rational thoughts. All he could focus on was her—the taste of her under his tongue, the softness of her body against his, the intoxicating scent of her arousal. The world outside ceased to exist.
He didn’t rush, not with this. Every caress was purposeful, every stroke aimed to elicit a response.
Her hips rose off the bed, chasing the pleasure he bestowed.
His name ripped from her throat as he pushed a finger inside and brushed his tongue over her swollen clit, an echoing plea for more.
He obliged, adding another, the squelching sound of her arousal filling the room.
When he added a third finger, her legs trembled around him, and her nails dug into his scalp. Her body was coiling, wound tight like a spring.
He could feel her pulse around his fingers, her body convulsing with a pleasure so intense it was almost debilitating. Her release took her, consumed her entirely, and he rode it with her, his own body responding to the pleasure coursing through hers.
He took a moment to just watch her. Splayed out beneath him, her body glowed under the dim light of the lamp. He leaned down to kiss her. It was a heady mix, the tang of their arousal, the dull hint of Pinot, and her own sweet taste. He could get drunk on her alone.
“Your turn,” she said, her eyes glinting with a promise of a night well spent.
“If you insist.” He tore off his shirt and tossed it to the floor.
She made a grab for the buckle of his jeans, her fingers trembling slightly. He bit back a groan as her hands moved over him, anticipation tightening the coil in his gut.
With a determined tug, his jeans and boxers were discarded on the floor, his arousal freed from its confinement. Her fingers circled his length, her eyes never leaving his. The sight was intoxicating.
She leaned forward, her tongue darting out, licking his tip before taking him into her mouth.
Holding his breath, he did his best to maintain control. It wasn’t easy. She glanced up at him, and he all but came undone.
“I need you to stop,” he managed.
“If I must.” She kissed her way up his chest.
He reveled in the momentary respite, his heart pounding, his breath coming in short gasps. He wanted this. Needed this. But it wasn’t just about the physical pleasure. It was about the connection, their shared past, their love.
He pressed her onto her back, fumbled with the necessary protection, then he pushed inside. It felt like he’d come home.
She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh, marking him as hers.
He moved faster, harder, his body seeking the release that he craved.
Raw pleasure spiked through him with every thrust, overwhelming him almost as much as the profound connection that drew them together.
This was more than just a physical act—it was about reclaiming their love, rekindling the flame that had never truly gone out.
He could see his own pleasure mirrored in her eyes, the clenching of her body beneath him a clear indication that she was as lost in this moment as he was.
Greedily, eagerly, she met every thrust, her hips grinding up to meet his with an intensity that spurred him on.
He kissed her then, claiming her mouth in a heated dance of tongues, consumed by her taste, by her feel… by her.
Her climax hit, a violent shudder wracking her body taking him over the edge with her. Their bodies fused together, lost in a kaleidoscope of pleasure, as they rode out the aftermath together.
The silence that followed was only interrupted by the sound of their ragged breaths as they held each other, their bodies still entwined, the scent of their lovemaking hanging heavy in the air.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns over his chest, her head nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his heart filling with an emotion so profound it was almost overwhelming.
He wasn’t sure what the future held for them. Later, they’d have to face reality, face the world with all its challenges. But for now, for this moment, it was just them, here in this room, tangled between the sheets, basking in the afterglow of their shared passion, their shared history.
“Not to scare you or anything, but you should know that I still love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. She smiled against his chest, her hand squeezing his in response.
His heart swelled with a certain peace, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
The storm outside echoed his thundering heartbeat, a rhythm that pulsed with love and longing.
There was a world outside the inn, one filled with complications and hardships, but it didn’t matter.
Right now, all that mattered was Riley. Her warmth. Her love. Her understanding.
“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered back.
He held her close, cherishing the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her still on his lips. Whatever happened next—whether she stayed or left—whether they reunited or fell apart— didn’t matter. All he knew was that he loved her, and she loved him. And in that moment, it was enough.
“Hey, Ry?”
“What?”
“Can I stay here tonight? I really don’t want to get out of this bed.”
She laughed, but before she could answer, her phone buzzed. “Ugh.” She sat up. “I think I left my cell on the table by the window.”
“I’ll get it.” Bryson slipped from the bed, hiked up his boxers, and padded across the room. “Um, who is Mateo, and should I be jealous?”
Riley burst out laughing. “God, no. Feel free to answer it. He’s got a bit of a man crush on you.”
“Not fair. I don’t even know who this dude is.” He tapped the green button as he made his way back to bed, but not before snagging the bottle of wine and the glass. They could share. “Hey, Mateo,” Bryson said.
“Who is this?”
“Bryson and you’re on speaker with Riley.”
“Good to know. I was beginning to think my girl had been kidnapped,” Mateo said.
“Let’s get one thing straight. She’s my girl,” Bryson said as he topped off the glass, took a sip, and then handed it to Riley, who had turned about five shades of red. “Now, what can we do for you?”
“Riley?”
“Mateo?”
“Permission to speak freely?” Mateo asked.
Bryson liked this guy already.
“Of course. But now you’re freaking me out. Is everything okay?” She handed the glass back to Bryson and sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest.
“Yeah. But you got a letter today, and I don’t know how to tell you this,” Mateo said in a much softer voice.
Bryson held her gaze.
“It’s from your dad,” Mateo murmured.
Riley covered her mouth and gasped. A tear slipped free and landed on the sheet. And then another one. Followed by a trail of many more.
Bryson twisted his body, setting the wine on the nightstand. He wrapped his arm around Riley, tugging her close to his chest, kissing her temple. “Mateo, we’re gonna have to call you—”
“No. I want you to open the letter and read it.” She wiped her face, but she didn’t leave Bryson’s embrace.
“Are you sure?” Mateo asked. “I feel like I’d be invading your privacy.”
“No. It’s okay. I need to know. It’s probably just my dad being my dad. But it will help.” She sighed, resting her head on Bryson’s shoulder. “Rip it open.”
“Okay,” Mateo said.
“Hey, kiddo,
I’ve been meaning to write you anyway, but something’s been on my mind, and I just don’t know where to turn or who to talk to.
You know me—I’ve never been one to stir the pot unless there’s a good reason.
Back when I was still on the revitalization committee, I noticed a few things in the books that didn’t quite add up.
At the time, I chalked it up to slow paperwork or human error.
But I’ve learned some things since I left, and I can’t believe it.
I don’t want to drag you into this, but what I can tell you is that a lot more money has gone missing from that fund, and it’s got Grant’s name all over it.
I don’t understand it. Your brother’s done well for himself.
He’s smart. He’s not someone who needs to cut corners.
He’s opening a second spa since he’s making money hand over fist. It just doesn’t make sense.
I didn’t want to take it to anyone on the revitalization committee.
Not until I’ve had a chance to speak with Grant.
I don’t want to believe he had anything to do with this.
It’s not like him. I know he can be a little entitled sometimes, but he’s a good man.
I asked Grant for a meeting. I want to hear what he has to say.
For all I know, everyone’s already looking into it, and I’m just being paranoid—and I have to consider where I got this information from.
Although they wouldn’t point the finger at Grant unless they thought something was up. I’m so distraught.
I hate dropping this on you, especially from so far away, but I’ve always wanted you to know the truth when it comes to family matters. No matter what happens, you should be proud of the life you’ve built and the person you are. I sure am.
Love you always,
Dad”
“When was that letter dated?” Bryson asked.
“Two days before he died.”
Riley sucked in a deep breath. “There is no way Grant stole that money. Or that he…I can’t even say it out loud.”
“Mateo, can you scan that letter in and send it to Riley’s phone? I’ll also forward my contact information so you can drop it in the mail. Send it the fastest way you can. I’ll pay for it.”
“Sure, no problem,” Mateo said. “Riley, are you gonna be okay?”
Riley plopped back onto the pillow, covering her eyes. “I have no idea. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“You take good care of that girl of ours,” Mateo said.
“I will. Don’t you worry.” Bryson ended the call, setting the phone on the nightstand. He pulled Riley into his arms. “Once I get that letter, we’re gonna need to give it to Sandy, and I don’t want you staying in this inn all alone. Tomorrow morning, you’re moving into the main house with me.”
She groaned. “Do you really believe my brother is capable of embezzlement?”
“Capable? Yeah. He’s smarter than most. But would he? That’s the problem. I don’t see the motivation. But my dad? He’s looking at the books. There’s a problem there, and people on that committee know it. Sean knew it, and now he’s dead.”
Bryson couldn’t believe the words that slipped between his lips. But what was worse were the thoughts tumbling through his brain.