Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Tess
The kiss, not totally unlike the last one we’d shared, still stuns me, even though I initiated it. I thought I might have amped up the first kiss in my mind, after all, I haven’t been kissed properly in… ever . But nope. It was actually that phenomenal. And this time, this kiss , well, it was even better.
I’d like to say I kissed him because I saw Gary turning into my driveway, ready to darken my door and my day, but that would be a lie. I did it because… I don’t know why.
I swallow hard, scrolling through possibilities.
Shock factor?
Curiosity?
Impulsivity?
All of those things, for sure, but most of all I know it’s downright want .I physically want this man so badly it thrums in me constantly even when I’m not thinking about him, it’s like white noise in the background keeping me wet and ready.
And I’ve never felt that before in my life. I feel like a different person because of him. One that has more feelings, more life, more trust. Who am I? Where is my self-control? I know what happens when I let my guard down and it isn’t good. The road I’m heading down is going to devastate me if I keep letting Mr. Biker in.
It’s just lust. He’s a big, sexy, annoying, bad boy, and I’m innocently lusting after him because I’ve never interacted with a man like him. And my marriage is over. And I’m lonely. And in my mid-thirties. My brow furrows as I bounce back through my list of flimsy reasons and my mind sticks on the words bad boy . Do bad boys fix porches? Maybe, maybe not, but he definitely kisses like a bad boy. I absently fan myself despite the chill in the sea breeze.
I’m suddenly itching to run inside, open my laptop and write again. Before Case, I hadn’t had this kind of need to create in years. And this urge to write, once as familiar as hunger, is burning in me now. I’m not sure why my encounters with my neighbor have this impact but they do. And today’s encounter, no, not encounter, confrontation, is fueling me like never before. With Case they’re always sexy confrontations and today’s inspires a hot scene, something taboo and kinky, where my heroine ends up being taken roughly…. after being disciplined… Hmm, maybe against the wall… or on the beach, her wanton howls snatched away by the wind.
Smiling, I scoop up the envelope with my divorce papers and the letter informing me of my financial obligations to Gary once they’re signed, and turn to go into the cottage, the scene playing out in my mind’s eye.
“Just the woman I want to see,” Gary says, a record scratch to delicious thoughts.
“You still exist?” I say coldly, glancing down to him at the base of the porch steps and tucking my arms around my middle. The envelope crunching against my middle. “I thought I was having a daymare.” I turn and head through my doorway. I’m not putting off the desire to write one more second because of this man. Nope. No way.
His feet stamp up the steps after me. “Stop running away from me, Tess.” He grabs my arm, roughly spinning me back to face him.
I grit my teeth, staring down at my arm clutched in his grip. “Let go of me.” My eyes fly back to his and I blink. He’s never manhandled me before. And as I stare into his bloodshot eyes I notice…. desperation? What could this asshole be so desperate about? It’s not like he wanted me back. I hold my breath a moment. Did he?
Why are you here? I think the words but I don’t say them aloud, because I realize I don’t actually care. That hits me in the gut, hard. I thought deep down I did, that my hatred and anger at being jilted was covering my feelings, but no. Right here as I look at the man I’d lived with for years, I feel nothing. And he looks… rough. His hair needs a cut, he hasn’t shaved or slept by the looks of it.
“I don’t know why you came all this way, Gary. You got what you wanted. I read the judgment today. You got half of everything, including my bank account and half of my future royalties on all the books I’ve written until now.” I scoff. “And alimony, although that’s at least much less than I expected.” I tug my arm, but he grips me tighter. I clench my jaw to keep my yelp in as his fingers dig into my flesh.
“You’re going to leave bruises,” I grind out. “There’s nothing left but to sign the divorce papers, which I’m about to do.” I look at my arm where he holds it and pull away again, this time succeeding.
“Don’t sign them, Tess.” He looks crazy, totally crazy — eyes bugging and bloodshot, hair a mess, and his clothes are disheveled.
But it’s none of my concern. As soon as the thought comes to my head I realize the relief in it. I’m truly happy to be rid of Gary.
“Let’s work this out.”
I’m speechless for a few long seconds. What the hell is he thinking?
“Did Marie dump you?” I ask, a much better reaction than laughing in his face.
“No, I just…” He pauses looking around, frowning. “She’s not what I want. You are.” He raises his hand and in it is a bottle of my favorite wine. “Let’s talk, over this bottle of wine.”
I note he says what and not who .
“No, Gary, because you’re not who I want. And I’m sorry if I wasted your time. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed but you didn’t give me what I needed either.”
“Please, Tess. I came all this way. Let’s just talk.”
“I’m sorry, Gary. You shouldn’t have wasted your time coming all this way. I have nothing more to say.”
“Is it him? That guy?”
My brow furrows. “What?”
“He’s the reason we can’t be together again?”
“It has nothing to do with?—”
He cuts me off. “Because I forgive you. It doesn’t matter what you did with him. I won’t even ask about him. We’ll start fresh.”
“You forgive me?” I huff a laugh. “Have a nice flight home, Gary.”
Walking into the house, I shut the door and lock it behind me. Gary starts pounding on it immediately, and I grab Gran’s iPod, shoving the earbuds into my ears. It’s almost enough to tune out the pounding. And when I open her music app and press play, Aerosmith drowns him out completely.
Locking the back door too, I change into tights, toss my bra off and throw on a cotton tank, suddenly longing for comfort, longing to shed the uptight control freak of a woman I’ve been for too long.
Heading to the kitchen table, I sit down, first signing my name to dissolve my marriage then sending pictures of the signed papers to Paige. I put the envelope on the front table and book a courier for pickup first thing in the morning with the fastest shipping possible.
And then, finally, I open my laptop and without a second thought for the angry man I used to sleep next to, likely still pounding on my door, I’m whisked away to a very sexy scene with a biker taking his neighbor on the porch of her cottage after a heated argument.
I’m flushed and parched when I finally come back to reality. Blinking up at the clock, I note the change in the lighting. Several hours have passed and I can’t believe it. Looking back down at the document on my computer my jaw drops. I’ve written twenty thousand more words. My total on this new story is… what? Sixty-eight thousand words and I’ve just started the epilogue.
Whoa.
It’s a book, a whole-ass book. It’s not the one that’s due, but it’s still a book. Well almost a book. And even though it’s never going to be read by anyone but me, and maybe Paige for shits and giggles, I’m still happy about it. It’s good too. I’ve never been a prolific author, but if I can keep this pace, this flow, I might just become one.
I smile, fist pumping. “You’ve still got it, Tess!”
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I glance out the front window to see Gary gave up at some point and left. I feel a shiver at the desperate look he had, but brush it away. After a quick washroom break, I head back to my laptop.
“Seems it was lack of inspiration after all,” I say to no one at all, and sit myself back in my spot at the table. “And the lack of inspiration can crawl straight back home with his tail between his legs.”
I feel a twinge in my back at the improper chair, but I don’t even care, not when the words are flowing like beer at Octoberfest.Another hour is all I can manage but it’s enough to finish the first draft of the book.
“I’ve finished a book!” I yell and dance around the kitchen, not even caring that Jake has jumped up on the windowsill outside to watch me.
I should thank Case. I twist and my eyes land on the flour canister. I should bake him cookies or something, but what would I say? Hey thanks for being so sexy? You fueled a seventy-five-thousand-word erotic romance novel? Good god, just thinking it makes my cheeks heat. Imagine, me, prim and proper, somewhat prudish Tess Harlow, writing an erotic romance.
I chuckle to myself, feeling lighter and more me than I have in years, I grab my long calf-length cardigan and head outside for some fresh air.
Kicking off my flip-flops as I reach the beach, I squish my feet in the cool sand. The tactile sensation soothes me as I curl my toes in it. The salty breeze blows a little harder this evening and the waves crash a little louder but it’s almost cleansing. I watch the seabirds windsurfing above me, their cries carried off in the wind. I hug my cardigan a little tighter looking out at the vast dusky blue.
“Well, well, look who’s left her cottage.”
I turn quickly, startled, but instantly calm at the sight of my brawny neighbor.
“Good evening, Case.” It’s a weirdly normal thing to say after all the strange ways we’ve interacted lately but I’m so lulled by the sea and my accomplishments, that I have no other words in me.
“Your business was pounding on your door for a long time today.”
“Hmm? I didn’t notice.” I glance at him now standing at my side, a thermos hooked on his finger.
“You didn’t notice?” Case pulls a face, his brows creating a triangle above his strong nose, something that would be indistinguishable in another hour when the sun sinks behind the horizon. “You moan and complain, not to mention sabotage my build, but you don’t notice a man pounding like hell on your door for two hours?” He points at me, the corner of his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a grin. “You’re getting extra punishment for that.”
My brows rise. “Two hours?” I outwardly ignore the rest of his comment but my belly squirms because his threats do dirty, dirty things to me.
“I almost called the cops….” He flashes me a full, albeit crooked, grin which seems way too boyish for a man covered in ink, hard muscles, and ruggedness.
“But then I remembered how useless the cop from earlier was, and that you’re pretty damn capable.” He leans close, nudging me a little. “But I went over myself to make sure. Can’t have my Sunshine inconvenienced by a moron.”
My Sunshine. I swallow. “You did?” He has my full attention now.
He looks at the sea and grunts, “Of course.” Even from his profile I can see his expression turn grumpy. “And, besides, I couldn’t hear my hammer over his damn pounding. It was incredibly distracting. My work is very important, you know. Where would all the bikers live without the club I’m building?”
I bark a laugh. I can’t help it. His words, deep and graveled, and his annoyed expression mixed with the absolute absurdity of his statement cracks me up.
“Don’t laugh, your highness. I take my work seriously which is why you’re still getting spanked for your last stunt.” He keeps a straight face, and it only makes me laugh harder. At least until he drops his thermos and grabs my arm, lowering to a driftwood log and pulling me across his lap.
I’m pretty sure my yelp can be heard clear across the water to the other side but then so can the peal of giggles that follow. At least until I realize I’m giggling. Tess Harlow doesn’t giggle. Ever. Paige is the giggler. I’m the sarcastic, closed-off bitch.
“This is no laughing matter, young lady,” he growls, shoving the cardigan out of the way to lay a sharp swat on the seat of my tights. His hand feels amazing as it rests on my bottom, warm and large. He rubs my backside absently as he whistles. “Tights, Sunshine? You know just what I like.” The warmth of his hand leaves and he spanks again, but this time there’s no pause for that delicious rubbing, just matter-of-fact swatting increasing in heaviness and speed until any possible words between us would be swallowed by the swift whacks, squeals and moans.
How can I be moaning over being spanked like a naughty little girl? Is it his strong, sturdy lap? His firm, no-nonsense demand for obedience, or his lighthearted playful side? He’s not taking it easy on me and yet the burn he’s creating seems directly connected to my quickly melting core.
When he lets up, I roll over on his lap and he wraps his arms around me, cradling me there. My face is hot, my breath a little labored and my heart pounds between my thighs.
He looks down at me, his eyes warm and filled with desire. I gulp. I’d written it a hundred times and never once did I truly understand it. How can a look show desire? But now I know, it’s right before my eyes.
I shiver as a chilly wind whips at us, blowing up my tank top which is askew from my squirming. He looks down my braless chest, focusing on what I’m sure are my hard nipples, and even after the shot of cool sea air, I feel hot. My breasts tingle and nipples tighten further. He licks his lips, not salaciously though, more unconsciously, like in his mind he’s imagining the taste of me.
When his eyes come back to mine, a zing shoots through me and time slows. Case pulls me up, his eyes landing on my lips, and he yanks me right to his mouth.
His lips, soft but demanding, take mine, and I melt against his hard body. His hot mouth and teasing tongue own me with each slow strokeand nibble. I reach up, looping my arms around his neck, my grip almost desperate, and my tongue darts out to taste his, sending a lightning bolt of raw need through me.
Case moans into my mouth but keeps the kiss slow and deliberate, controlling the pace and depth. When his thumb circles on one of my tight aching nipples. I arch, my body begging him for more. He obliges swooping down to kiss my neck, and then further to my breasts, playing with my nipples through the material of my tank. I gasp at the roughness when he clamps down with firm lips, but I ache for more.
“Please,” I say, the words a scratchy whisper. He looks at me, eyes intense on mine and yanks my tank top down, exposing one breast without breaking our stare.
“As you wish, Sunshine.” His words are graveled with desire too. He cups my breast, feeling the weight of it in his hand before looking down to admire it. Needy for his touch, I thrust my chest toward him. His appreciation at the sight is a strangled sounding groan. “Fucking beautiful.”
My hands grapple his hair when his mouth lowers and closes over one naked bud, his hand cupping the other a moment before tugging it free of its tank-top prison. His rough callused thumb works that nipple while he tongues the other. Flames lick my insides, and I rock on his lap giving him more of my breasts. Case suckles me, but lets his other hand wander down, scraping the backs of those tatted fingers against my ribs and then my stomach. I quiver when his hand slips into the band of my tights and whimper when he cups my mound.
“I’m going to make this mine,” he rasps as he releases my nipple.
Slipping a single finger beneath the gusset of my panties, he touches me delicately, way too softly for such big, manly biker. “So soft,” he whispers. A dark, dangerous chuckle follows as his finger parts me.
It only takes one touch to my sensitive nub for me to gasp sharply and arch. I’ve been touched a hundred times, but it never felt like this. Always a rough swipe to check for readiness, or an almost clinical touch to map out where my entrance was.
“Touch me, please,” I say adjusting myself on his lap, my bottom sinking a little between his parted thighs, my own spreading wider to give him better access. “I’ve never been touched quite like this,” I gasp again.
He’s slowly and gently circling my clit, increasing and decreasing pressure as he plays, sometimes tapping it like a button on a video game controller which doesn’t sound sexy at all, but oh, god it is. It feels so good it makes my insides jump like a fucking Mario brother. I squirm, desperate to give him more room to work.
“You’re so fucking hot and wet.” He ends his sentence by leaning down to kiss me, biting my bottom lip and tugging it slowly between his teeth until I’m free. He smiles at me, wickedly and his whole hand is beneath my panties. It’s a little awkward with my tights but he says nothing, just slides a finger inside me. The heel of his hand bumps my clit deliberately with each stroke and I’m panting before long.
I reach for his crotch, feeling his rock-hard length through his jeans and smooth my palm over it, squeezing. It lurches beneath my hand but before I can pull his zipper down to feel its silky smoothness, I throw my head back, panting with the building tension coiling tighter inside me. It’s so much, maybe too much, but I need it… I need it to never stop.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, and thankfully he doesn’t.
Lightning flashes and my cry of pleasure is snatched away by the crashing ocean. I come over the crest, squeezing his cock as I do. The pulsing of my pussy has me whimpering and before I’ve even fully come down from the best high of my life, Case rises, holding me in his arms. He kisses me then, and it’s sweet and gentle.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful and responsive, Sunshine.” His eyes warm as I look into them but it’s not want or arousal, it’s care. I swallow hard. I can handle sex, I can handle the rough, hot, passion, but his care is too weighty and cumbersome.
He sets me on my feet, fixing my top and tights. Looking around, he asks, “If I tell you to go home now, will you listen?”
I shake my head. “I want to be out here.”
“Tessa. I don’t feel comfortable with you out here alone and I have something I need to do.” His expression turns firm and that’s when I see worry in the set of his mouth. He looks around again, so I do as well but see nothing.
“What’s going on?” I ask, suddenly feeling chilled. “Is this because of my ex? Or the ‘stalker’ you thought you saw?”
“I don’t like him, so, yes, but also because of the dude watching us from across the road earlier.”
“Case, people use this beach occasionally. Usually, tourists who don’t know it’s private property. It happens. Trust me, I don’t have a stalker. It was nothing.” I huff a laugh. “And I thought I had an overactive imagination.”
“You’re going home, Tessa, even if I have to carry you there myself.” His gruff and direct words allow no room for protest, so I nod.
“Fine.” I raise my hands in defeat and his face softens.
Rubbing his hands up and down my arms to warm me, he whispers, “Good girl.” The words do things to my insides and even though I’ve just had an orgasm, I’m ready for more.
I don’t tell him Gary’s as harmless as a gnat because he surprises me, scooping up the thermos he dropped earlier and putting it in my hands.
“It’s tea. For you. I’ll walk you back to the cottage. You can have it there.”
I look down at it, swallowing again. “Tea? You made me tea?”
“I saw you heading out here, and wouldn’t you know it, I noticed it was teatime.” He winks and shoots me another of his crooked smiles. His flirty charm is meant to lull me, and I know it. He’s still concerned, but I don’t call him out. Instead, I look at my watch and return his smirk.
“So, it is.”
“Didn’t want you to miss it.” He takes my hand, folding our fingers loosely together in a way that makes my stomach flutter. It’s a weird reaction to something so innocent since those very fingers just brought me to orgasm. But it’s an intimacy I’ve yet to experience. Not in high school, not with Gary. Believe it or not, I’ve never held hands with a boy or man. Odd as it sounds. I was homeschooled for the first ten years and by the time Gran got me, I already had my walls up. The first boy that ever tried to kiss me on the playground got a black eye and no one tried after that.
“You know crime is really quite low here,” I say as we walk through the tall beachgrass back to the cottage.
“Third lowest in Canada, I know.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s one of the reasons I chose to build here. That, and the bridge and ferry being the only ways on or off the island.”
We stop on my porch, and I turn to him. “You picked the right place. I’m glad you’re here.” It’s the most vulnerable I’ve allowed myself to be with him. In the porch light I see his eyes soften.
“Me too.” He hands me the thermos and I take it without breaking our gaze.
When he turns to go, and I reach for him before I know what I’m even going to say. He doesn’t release my palm, instead he folds it between his two and rubs. “You’re cold, sweetheart. Go warm up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, more vulnerability creeping the surface making me squirm. “And whatever you’re looking for out there, I hope it turns out to be nothing.”
His eyes shutter before he hides his look of surprise.
“Don’t leave the cottage alone after dark, Tessa,” he warns, his voice low and firm.
I roll my eyes, brushing off his worry, but stop mid eyeroll when he cups my chin.
“I mean it, Tessa. Don’t test me on this.”
I press my lips, assessing him with narrowed eyes a moment. Ignoring the newly revived throbbing between my legs, I decide his intentions are pure and he’s not just demanding and threatening me without reason.
“Fine,” I say haughtily.
With the smallest half smile, he releases my chin. Running the backs of his fingers along my cheek, he kisses my head. “Thank you.”
I shrug, still pretending to be a little put out. But the reality is, I find his bossiness very attractive. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere anyway. I’ve got work to do.” I watch him and the way his half-smile turns full and cocky.
“Of course you do, Sunshine. Don’t stay up too late though. You’ll need your energy for all the trouble you’re likely going to cause tomorrow.”
I lick my lips and bite away my grin.
“Unless… truce?” There’s something in his eyes, a spark of challenge or something, and it makes me feel electric … no, alive.
“Not a chance, Mr. Biker.”
He shoots me another quick grin, this one boyish. “It’s your ass, Sunshine. But I do love the challenge.” And with that, he once again yanks me forward and up onto my toes against him. There on my Gran’s porch, the only place that’s ever really been home, the man I can’t get enough of presses his hot mouth against mine again.
Releasing my mouth, he sets me slowly back down onto my feet. Gazing warmly down at me, he says, “You’re something, Tessa Harlow.”
And then, as I stand there still reeling from the intimacy, vulnerability, the orgasm he drew from me less than ten minutes ago, and our game, he turns and walks away.
“What does that mean?” I holler to his back. He turns, walking backward now.
“It means I plan on taming you.” His words make my heart flip. “Lily was right about a lot of things, but most of all that you’re worth the effort.”
I bite the inside of my lip, emotion welling in me like a geyser. So few people have ever made me feel worth it and this man who I’ve tormented just joined that very small club.
“Hey, I’m the Domme, remember?” I say, shoving my emotions back into their box.
“Good thing I don’t mind proving which one of us is in charge.”
As I watch him go, I wonder how much Gran influenced him in their short friendship. How much did she tell him about me? Was she orchestrating this before she died, knowing I’d be here? Knowing eventually Gary and I would be over, and I’d come home? That would have made me mad before, but now it feels like a hug from beyond.
I can almost hear her say, “See, Tessie Girl, I’m still stickin’ by you even from heaven. I said I’d never leave you and I meant it.” I can also hear the “I told ya so” about Gary, which makes me laugh.
“You sure did, Gran. You sure did.”