Twenty
Branwen
Stevie ate a Popsicle while wrapped in a towel, sitting on the lounger beside me. She had been swimming for two hours, and my guess was, she was going to need a nap soon. Today had been a more pleasant experience as compared to yesterday. By the time we had gotten off the plane, I’d been so angry and emotionally spent, trying to act like I was fine for Stevie’s sake, that I had gone to bed, dreading the next three hundred sixty-four days.
After successfully ignoring Linc during breakfast, he had said he had to go handle some work and would be gone until late. I wanted to cheer with relief. Stevie pouted. Having been on the receiving end of that pout many times, I knew its power. Linc promised her a movie night with ice cream sundaes and said he would bring her back a surprise. That sent her flinging her arms around his legs and thanking him and calling him Dad. The scene was almost enough to soften me up.
But then I remembered he had gone and had sex with that young flight attendant, Leslie, with Stevie on the plane. We didn’t hear or see anything, and rationally, I knew that Stevie had no idea what he was doing, but I did. It had been disrespectful, and if he thought he was going to parade women in and out of this house in front of her, he had another thing coming. I didn’t know how I was going to stop him, but I was working on that.
My not speaking to him had no effect. He hadn’t even noticed.
I wasn’t who he wanted to spend time with anyway. I was just the baggage that came along with having Stevie here. God, I wanted to think of something else besides him.
It was a beautiful, sunny day, and Stevie was having a blast. I wanted to soak it in, but right now, I had too many things wearing on me, and I was unable to shut my brain off.
The call with Hudson had been hard, but he had assumed my bad mood was because of us not being together. That seemed to pacify him. I had ended it after ten minutes, telling him I had a headache and needed sleep. He wanted to talk again tonight, which gave me one more thing to dread. Although I might not be invited to this movie night that Linc had promised Stevie. He hadn’t looked at me. It was almost as if he was ignoring me, like I was doing to him.
I sighed heavily and glanced back over at Stevie, realizing she had gotten quiet. Her Popsicle stick was thankfully all that was left of the pink treat as it lay in her open hand because she was sound asleep. I leaned forward and took another dry towel and laid it over her. It wasn’t cool out, but the wet towel and suit might give her a chill. Sinking back on the plush lounger, I stared up at the slated ceiling that let very little sunlight through. I’d put sunblock on her twice now, so she should be fine to sleep where she was.
The sound of the waterfall as it gushed over the rocks and hit the water might lull me to sleep, too, if I closed my eyes. At least then, I wouldn’t be thinking. I could get rest from the things plaguing me. Just as I decided to give it a try, I heard heavy, booted footsteps, and my eyes snapped open. I turned my head toward the sound to see Linc walking in this direction. He had on a snug-fitting black T-shirt with his jeans today. The sight of his corded, tattooed biceps was eye candy that I did not have any business partaking in.
Without Stevie to talk to him, I was going to be forced to, and vice versa.
He stopped when he reached our cabana lounger.
Not fair, God. So not fair. No man should look like that. It was cruel.
I couldn’t blame Leslie for flashing him her cleavage and spreading her legs for him when he went after her. I was sure most women did. Heck, I had done it myself. I wondered if he carried those morning-after pills around in his pocket for all the available vaginas wanting to be filled.
I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses at the thought.
“I thought you were going to be gone all day,” I snapped, aggravated at myself for speaking first.
“You talking to me now?” His drawl sounded amused.
Damn him.
I lifted a shoulder, but said nothing.
He chuckled. “How long is this jealous fit supposed to last?”
I stiffened and glared at him. “I am not jealous. This is not a fit!” I hissed, trying not to yell and wake up Stevie.
He smirked at me. “Like hell it ain’t. You haven’t said a word to me since I came back from letting the flight attendant suck my cock like she had been begging to. I was unaware your mouth was available. Can’t go getting pissed at me for not knowing.” He paused, and his eyes went to my mouth, then slowly down my body. “If you want to suck it, I’m open to negotiations. Starting with you doing it while wearing that bikini.”
I sat up straight, feeling several things, but clasping tight to the anger. The others were not to be acknowledged. “I do not want to…suck your…thing, and I don’t care who you screw around with,” I whispered. “But I don’t want you bringing women around in front of Stevie. Keep your…your sex stuff personal and hidden.”
His heated gaze didn’t meet mine, but instead was on my chest. “Please continue with your hissy fit. Those big tits keep bouncing and jiggling around enough, and a nipple might pop free.”
The instant tingle between my legs made them harden as he continued to stare at them. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? My body felt warm, and it had nothing to do with the sun.
“Stop looking at them,” I said, reaching over Stevie for my cover-up.
“You put them on display like that, and they’re impossible not to look at.”
I prayed he did not see the shiver that ran through me. My body was a fool.
Snatching the cover-up and clutching it to my chest, I stared back at him. “What do you want?”
He ran the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip. “That’s a loaded question.” His gaze flickered to Stevie, then back to me. “Tell me, Branwen, does your pussy taste like lemon candy? Because I have this memory of it.”
My breathing was getting heavy, and I had to rub my thighs together because of the ache that had started between them.
“If you don’t know, I can check.”
I gasped, my eyes going wide. Had he just offered to go down on me?
He leaned down, and I was frozen, unable to move or speak. His hand reached up and took my sunglasses from my eyes, then put them on top of my head. I blinked, staring at him. He was so close that I could smell him. The smoke-and-spice scent only caused my heart rate to speed up.
“It’ll just take a second.” His deep voice was husky.
I managed to shake my head, and he shushed me. Then, his warm, large hand touched the skin just below my belly button. The breath I sucked in was loud enough for him to hear, and he shushed me again with a small shake of his head. His fingers slid underneath the fabric of my bikini bottoms, and instead of grabbing his wrist and jerking it out, I dropped my eyes to watch him.
Why wasn’t I moving? Telling him to stop?
It was if everything had gone into slow motion until he ran his middle finger over my pulsing clit, and I let out a yelp, my eyes flying back up to his face.
“Easy,” he said hoarsely with a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. “That pussy is soaking wet.”
He dipped his finger inside me, then pushed it up into my very deprived entrance, and I had to cover my mouth to muffle my moan.
“Still tight,” he said, his low voice sounding almost like a groan. “With a face like yours and a body like this, I’d think someone would be fucking this hole properly, but, damn, it’s sucking my finger like it’s hungry.”
He let out a sadistic laugh and pumped it three times as my mouth fell open and my eyes rolled back in my head. That was so good. His finger was rough and thick. Instead of jerking his hand away, I wanted to hold it there now so I could ride it until I orgasmed. I was so close already. Just a little more.
And then it was gone. I let out a cry, and he stood back up. I wanted to weep, slap him, get up, and rub myself off on his leg. Damn him!
He stuck his middle finger inside his mouth, and I watched as my body trembled from the pleasure that had been snatched away from it. The way he continued to clean off my wetness from his finger was as if he was savoring it.
Hudson and Bastian had told me I tasted sweet before. Bastian hadn’t been one for giving pleasure though. He liked to get it. Hudson went down on me often—or at least he used to—but I didn’t ever get off on it. Sure, it felt good, but neither of them seemed to know how to use their tongue on me.
Five years ago, when Linc had been between my legs, I had gotten off twice as my body bucked and I pulled his hair like a woman possessed. It had been incredible. That image was all I could think about right now.
He finally pulled his finger from between his lips. “Not a dream,” he murmured, then turned and walked away.
I lay there, panting, my clit screaming for attention, and I equally hated and wanted Linc Shephard more than anyone else on earth. It was a twisted truth that I had to accept.