Chapter 2
Decker McKnight was very nice to look at.
Joanna fancied him the moment she saw him last night as he arrived at the farmhouse with his twin brother, and the bachelor party headed out for their night of “tame debauchery.”
However, even though Ryker and Decker were absolutely identical, she didn’t fancy Ryker the way she did Decker. Sure, Ryker was good looking—obviously—but he didn’t make Joanna tingle when his gaze skittered over her, the way Decker’s gaze did. Maybe it was Decker’s broodiness, or that he didn’t crack a smile when he arrived. He remained stone-faced and mysterious. And Joanna had always been a mystery buff.
She’d peppered Mieka, Triss, and Hannah for information about him all night, but they had very little to report.
Besides the fact that he was a SEAL like the rest of the guys, had an identical twin brother, was very quiet and a little shy, they knew rather little about him .
Joanna then turned to social media, but as Triss and Mieka told her, she would find nothing. The guys weren’t on social media. Decker McKnight was a ghost.
A sexy ghost.
A sexy ghost who smelled like musk, danger and fresh pine, and he was driving her bloody bonkers.
He couldn’t dance, but that wasn’t a deal breaker for her.
What he could do, however, was hold her tight, hold her close, and read her like a fucking book. And that scared her as much as it exhilarated her.
She shifted uncomfortably under his unreadable gaze, waiting for his reply to her bold proposition.
Desire burned in his amber eyes. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. But the longer she held eye contact with him, the more she started to see his resolution forming. And he was resolved to turn her down.
He hadn’t even said anything yet, and she already had her answer.
Her chest tightened and prickles of embarrassment rippled along her arms. She tried to pull out of his embrace. “Right. Well. I guess I totally read things wrong. Terribly sorry. My mistake. Call it poor judgment of sad drunk twit.”
But he didn’t let her go.
She pushed against his chest, desperate to get away from the humiliation of his rejection.
“Joanna,” he said softly, holding on tighter. “Stop.”
“Decker, let me go.”
“No. Joanna. STOP.” His voice remained low, but the authority, the command, was so inherent that she stopped, and her back snapped straight before she even had a chance to register what happened. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, almost like a petulant toddler, she lifted her head, but kept her gaze on his chest.
“Eyes, too.” Humor tinged his tone. He knew she was being defiant .
Heat filled her cheeks, and she was sure beads of sweat scattered themselves along her hairline. She certainly had them between her breasts.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his.
Softness met her, and she instantly relaxed.
“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.
She did.
“Good girl.”
Oooh. He was hitting all the right buttons right now.
Her pussy spasmed at his praise. That traitorous bitch. Didn’t she know he just turned them down?
“I never said a word, and you just jumped to conclusions. Why?”
“Because you took forever to answer. And that usually means you’re searching for a gentle way to let me down.”
“Or,” he postured, “I was choosing my words carefully because I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Fuck this up?
What was this ?
She was just looking for a good time. For a wedding night shag. Nothing more.
Anything more made absolutely no sense. She lived in Toronto and Decker lived … well, his address was in Dallas, but the man was a nomad.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t really do casual. Unlike my brother, who is a walking poster boy for one-night-stands. I can’t say we’re identical in that way. I mean, yes, I’ve had them. But I prefer not to.”
Her brows knitted. What was he saying? He wanted to date? She was going to have to agree to be his girlfriend if she wanted to get laid?
Fuck that, she could find someone else if that was the case.
She made to pull out of his embrace again, but his hold on her remained firm. Secure .
She hadn’t even been paying attention, but somehow, he guided them off to the side and they were now standing almost outside the tent under the stars.
Joanna blinked at her surroundings, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.
Crickets and frogs competed with the music from the speakers.
She welcomed the cool air against her sweat-misted skin and goosebumps quickly broke out along her arms.
Decker was in a black, long-sleeve button up dress shirt and gray slacks that fit him very well. Like he’d been sewn into them or something.
She swallowed and brought her gaze back up to his. He was staring at her. Had probably been staring at her the entire time.
“So what does ‘I don’t do casual mean?’”
“I don’t do casual sex. When I’m with a woman, I want it to mean something. I want there to be an emotional connection. I want there to be feelings involved. The promise of something more than just that moment or that night.”
“I never would have pegged you for a serial monogamist. Do you even have time for relationships?”
Frowning, but in a sexy and lazy way, he shook his head.
“So then, do you just not have a lot of sex?”
“Not anymore. No.”
Yeah, it’d been a while for her too. Not for lack of trying, though. Unfortunarely, the dating apps had more duds than potential prospects, and when she finally went out on a date with someone she might consider removing her knickers for, a client would call and she’d have to drag her dry knickers and screaming libido away from her date to fulfill the demands of her client.
Fucking clients. They were such cock blockers.
“But quality over quantity,” he said.
She shook her head. Maybe she’d had one too many vodka sodas. Her head was getting muddled. “So you want to fuck? You just want me to care about you? ”
His full lips pinned together like he was trying not to laugh. “That’d be a start. But I’d much rather spend the evening getting to know you. I’m already sure Asher won’t have a problem with me sticking around to help out here, and you’re subbing for Mieka, so why rush things? Why can’t we get to know each other? Why can’t we take it slow?”
Maybe because she was drunk, horny and sad and just wanted a good kick of dopamine and an orgasm? Was that really too much to ask for?
Apparently.
But the sincerity in his eyes made it tough for her to let go of his shirt. She didn't even realize she had a hold of it until her knuckles began to cramp. She released it and swallowed. “I really want to get off.”
His snort of laughter startled her. “I like your honesty.”
“I like how you smell. You smell really good.”
He graced her with a rare, big smile that instantly had a puddle forming in her knickers.
Goddamn, the man was handsome. Mysterious and honest. Deep, and wise beyond the forty-five years he claimed to be. This man easily could have lived a thousand lives based on the wisdom that swirled in the mesmerizing amber of his eyes. And the longer she stared at the whorls and speckles of coppers, golds and bronzes, the more captivated she became. The further under his spell she fell.
“Come here,” he said, his voice a low rumble that made her nipples pebble beneath her strapless dress. He maneuvered them around the tent and into the shadows. There were a bunch of hay bales stacked up and he guided her behind them.
“Why are these hay bales here?” she asked, glancing around to see if anybody was watching them disappear.
He grunted and shrugged to say he didn’t know, nor did he care.
The bales were stacked in sort of a pyramid, so the bottom ones stuck out to create somewhat of a bench. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap .
The vodka rushed through her bloodstream and into her brain, creating a warm, fuzzy sensation.
Did she really just proposition this guy?
And did she really just tell him she wanted to get off?
She’d never been shy about sex or telling a guy—or girl—what she wanted. But the fact that she was this brazen with Decker had her feeling a little embarrassed.
He shifted her, so she was on one of his thighs, facing sideways while he faced forward.
Mieka asked her sisters and Joanna to be her bridesmaids, so they were all in different dresses in various, but complimenting shades of yellow. Joanna found a sexy strapless thing that fell to the floor at a shop in Toronto and even though it was on the pricier side, it fit her like a dream, so there was barely any hesitation.
It pushed up her boobs, making them look better than ever, and it cinched her at the waist, giving her an hourglass shape. Since getting sacked by the ships, she’d put on half a stone. She still worked out, and still ate right, but she didn’t count calories like a fiend anymore and she enjoyed the odd dinner of a loaf of good French bread and a round of delicious, expensive cheese.
Decker’s nose trailed up the side of her neck, inhaling.
A shiver raced through her and she allowed her eyes to flutter shut. She tilted her head to the side so he could have better access. “What do you use when you’re by yourself?” he asked, his voice no more than a rough and gritty rumble next to her ear. She shivered again and swallowed as his fingers, starting at her ankle, began to lazily drift up her leg and beneath her dress.
Her eyes blinked open for half a second, but when he found that spot behind her knee and tickled it, she trembled and her entire core clenched. She shut her eyes again and licked her lips. “W-what?”
Nothing sounded better than his low, raspy chuckle. She wanted to get lost in it. Have it consume her. Record it on her phone and make it her ring tone .
The way it made everything in her body throb with need was unreal and had her craving more of it. Had her craving everything from this man.
“When you’re alone, in your bed, and needy, what do you use to get yourself off? Your hand? Toys? A specific genre of porn?”
“I …uh …” It was really hard to concentrate on forming words, let alone sentences, when his fingers were continuing to make their way up her leg. They were at her inner thigh now and it was taking every bit of effort and energy she had left not to buck her hips down and forward, so he impaled her with his skilled fingers.
His middle finger grazed the edge of her panties and she nearly combusted right there on his lap.
“Joanna,” he purred.
“I … uh … I have a few different vibrators. But I’ll also use my hand. It takes longer with my hand, though. If … if I need it quick, I grab …” She licked her lips again, then her lips parted, and she exhaled out through her mouth when that one finger wiggled its way beneath the crotch of her panties and brushed against one of her labia. “I have this one called Tracy’s Dog. It gets me there fast. I don’t really need porn. I’ll sometimes read a spicy romance book, though.”
His hum vibrated against her neck and made everything inside her prickle and tingle. Her blood pounded in her ears and her pussy clenched with longing.
It felt like hours, but was probably no more than thirty seconds, before his fingers moved further toward her center. He pushed her panties more to the side and two fingers explored her cleft. She was soaking wet, and he dipped two fingers lower to gather some of that wetness before languidly dragging them north to her throbbing clit.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough, but kind.
She blinked her eyes open and turned to face him. With his free hand, he cupped her jaw and slowly, in a way that totally contradicted the dirty things he was doing to her clit, he leaned forward and kissed her so softly. So gently. It was less of a kiss, and more than just a brush of lips against lips. A whisper. A ghost of a kiss that left her wanting to be fully possessed.
He pulled away slightly and met her gaze.
His unique and magical amber eyes danced with silent amusement as he brought his mouth back to meet hers.
His tongue licked past her lips and she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want more. She wanted all of it. She wanted full possession. So much so Mieka would have to perform an exorcism in the morning.
She opened for him willingly, greedily, surrendering to the whiskey flavored heat of his mouth and body as he pushed two fingers into her channel and his thumb found her clit and began to work it in beautiful concentric circles.
The man could kiss.
Holy bloody hell, could the man kiss.
Quality over quantity for damn sure.
She whimpered against his mouth, his kisses almost bruising with their intensity, but all in the best ways. She dished it right back. Sucked his tongue, bit his bottom lip and smiled when he growled and tightened his hold on her jaw, eventually wrapping his hand around the back of her neck.
His fingers kept their rhythm perfectly, and she bucked against his hand, chasing that rolling wave that just kept getting bigger every time it crashed back toward her. She was close. They both knew it.
Daringly, she reached down to his lap and, sure enough, found him hard, straining against the zipper of his gray dress pants.
She stroked him over his pants, but he grunted and shook his head, breaking their kiss. “No.”
“No?”
“This is about you. You said you needed to get off.”
“But … I just thought—”
“I’ll be fine. This is for you—and me—but right now, we’re focusing on you. ”
Her jaw dropped open, but he didn’t let her stay like that—in a state of shock—for long. He captured her mouth again, his tongue once more tangling with hers.
She rocked against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper into her pussy. He curled them a little to press against that sweet spot. The spot her vibrator knew very well, but most men just couldn’t seem to locate.
Even though the music in the tent had shifted once more to a lively beat and laughter trickled out and up to the stars, she could barely hear any of it over the roar of her pulse in her ears.
Her body quivered with anticipation. With excitement.
She was so close.
And this orgasm was going to be a doozy.
The way his thumb just rubbed back and forth over her clit—such a simple move, but yet, so potent. And his kisses … and his smell …
Shoving her fingers into his hair on either side of his head, she pulled him down to her, taking control of the kiss.
His fingers in her panties picked up speed just a touch and his thumb pressed a little harder on her clit.
“You’re going to come for me,” he murmured before biting her bottom lip. It wasn’t a question. It was an order.
She nodded and mewled, raking her nude-painted fingernails over his scalp
He flicked the hood of her clit with his short thumbnail and she fucking detonated.
She exploded.
She ruptured like twenty million volcanos.
She didn’t have to chase those pleasure waves anymore. They came crashing into her. And she had absolutely no strength—or desire—to run from them. Rather, she met them head on. Embracing the crushing collapse of bliss as it tore through her body. As it flowed into her like warm liquified honey, coating her bones and muscles, wrapping around her heart and weaving through each rib.
She broke their kiss just for a moment and let out a faint squeak as her toes curled in her simple nude ballet flats.
But Decker gave her only three seconds of fresh air before he plundered her mouth once more and brought her back into his realm of pleasure.
She didn’t think she had another one in her. But this sexy stranger she just met clearly knew her body better than she did because with another scrape of his thumbnail over her way too sensitive clit, she was coming again. The orgasm wasn’t as potent, but it wasn’t anything to turn her nose up at, either.
By the time she finally came down from that second surprise climax, a sheen of sweat covered her chest and forehead and the evening breeze sweeping over her misted skin caused fresh goosebumps to chase themselves over her arms and back.
He broke their lip lock somewhere around the peak of her second orgasm and simply pressed his forehead to the side of her head as she shook and whimpered in his arms.
An uncontrollable shiver zipped from her nape to her toes and he squeezed her tighter. “That was beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“That was …” She simply smiled, a glimmer of a laugh huffing past her lips as she fought to get her breathing under control.
“You’re staying here. I’m staying here. Let’s … get to know each other. We don’t have to promise each other forever, but I’d rather the first time I’m inside you be when I’ve gotten to know you—sober. And we have all the time in the world.”
She lifted her head, which caused him to lift his. Their gazes met. “Who are you, Decker McKnight?”
His smile was almost shy, and it pulled at threads in her heart she didn’t even know existed. “Just a boy, with his fingers inside a girl, asking her if she’d like to hang out with him when they’re sober.”