31. James
THIRTY-ONE
JAMES
Meeting your match is a mistake.
I fucked up. This isn’t the way to handle my jealousy over a guy talking to a gorgeous woman I claimed as my sister only minutes ago.
But she ignited something raw and feral inside my chest, a feeling that pushes me to claim her like a caveman against the side of the truck for all to see, so that everyone gets the point that she isn’t available, even though she is.
She moans into my mouth like she’s been starving and I am the only thing she wants to devour. Her lips are soft and pliant beneath my own. Our tongues tangle and blood rushes south. Knowing that she tastes like the berries that cling to her skin—sweet, a little tart, and fucking addictive—is hell.
I press against her as my hand fists her hair to angle her head back so I can kiss her deeper.
Nails dig into my back, flesh against flesh, and I want her marks on me.
I want her to leave evidence of how I made her feel when I kissed her, the one and only time I ever will.
I need to make it memorable so that I’ll ruin it for any man who follows me.
She lifts her leg around my hip and arches her spine, craving friction.
The things I want to do to this woman would make her run away screaming.
I tear my lips from hers, and she gasps in air and tilts her head back as I scrape my teeth down her throat.
I’m tempted to leave a bite mark as a warning to back the fuck off to any man who dares to look at her.
“Jesus, that is not how you kiss your sister,” the guy rumbles. “I’m out. Incest isn’t cool, man.”
I lift my head, his words bringing me back to reality. “Foster, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Still not right,” he mutters, dumping the boxes and parcels in the flatbed with a huff before turning on his heel and stalking away. He glances over his shoulder just before disappearing inside the store. Might not be right in his eyes, but he still wants her.
I narrow my gaze and grip her hips to bring her body flush against my own. She moans low and needy. She’s a freaking siren, seductive without lifting a finger. Devastating without intent. I am ruined, and I can’t find it in me to care.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.
Teeth nip my ear as I carry her to the passenger side of the truck, and I stumble.
Fuck. Everything is a freaking erogenous zone when she’s involved.
She’s not practiced; there’s no act. She’s the most real thing I’ve ever held in my arms, and I’m not treating her like the precious woman she is.
I have to stop this before we get too caught up.
I open the door and place her on the seat. She leans back and stretches her arms in the air. I blink when she smiles at me, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving.
I lean down and wrap my hand around her throat. Instead of freaking out, her pupils darken. No. Absolutely not. I cannot corrupt this woman who deserves to spend her life in the light. All I can offer her is darkness.
I grab the seatbelt and slide it across her body before clipping it in. She bites her lip, eyes focused on my mouth as if she could will it to touch hers again. It can’t. I’m only human and far from a saint.
“Don’t move,” I growl as I slam the door closed and lock it for good measure.
“You can’t be serious,” she snaps.
I grin and head back into the store to get the final parcels.
Fuck knows what she’s been ordering, but this cannot all be nail polish.
Between the groceries and the online shop, my truck is filled to the brim.
I eyeball Terry’s son with a raised brow, daring him to say something.
He folds his arms and holds my glare. I’m impressed.
Not many can do that, excluding Stephanie freaking King.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Terry says. “You know we offer home delivery.”
He says this every time. The locals get more curious each time I reappear, sometimes months between visits, depending on what’s happening in the organization. “Noted. Thanks, Terry.”
After signing the paperwork for the packages, I hop back inside the truck and peel out of the parking lot, avoiding the pouting woman sitting with her arms folded and staring out of the windscreen like she could make herself disappear through sheer will alone.
I normally enjoy the quiet ride back to the lodge, since there’s no phone signal on the mountain, nobody’s demanding anything of me.
But today, the air is thick with unspoken words, neither of us wanting to be the first to question what just happened.
That’s fine. I’m happy to pretend it never happened. Okay, I’m lying to myself. But my delusions keep me safe.
“Are we addressing the giraffe in the truck?” she asks, breaking any notion of living in blissful denial. I should have known better.
“I believe the saying is elephant.”
“Irrelevant. The giraffe is just as hard to ignore, and I’ve always preferred them.”
Fair point. “Okay, what is this giraffe representing? You have until we reach the lodge to get your questions in.”
“Or what?”
Brat. Fuck me. “Stephanie,” I drawl.
“Fine. You just kissed me.”
“That’s a statement of fact, not a question.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed him not to entertain the notion that you might be available.”
“Aren’t I? Because if that’s not the case, then I seem to have fallen into a situationship without my knowledge, and I need you to back up a second so I can catch up.”
I side-eye her for a moment, finding her smirking in victory as she runs circles around me without thought. “You need to not attract attention.”
“A quiet rejection was the best way. Kissing your supposed sister against the side of your truck like you were staking your claim had the exact opposite effect.”
“I disagree. He knows not to come near you.”
“You’ve made us the talk of the town. We’re siblings who make out in the middle of the day for everyone to see.”
“Everyone needs to get a life.”
“Small town gossip is dangerous. You need to undo whatever mess you made by removing me as your sister.”
“I couldn’t give a shit what people think.”
She sighs. “Neither could I, but I’m going crazy trapped on this mountain.”
“You aren’t trapped.”
“No, just signed, sealed, and delivered for my own protection. And where has that gotten us so far?”
“You’re acting like it’s been months instead of days.”
“It feels that way.”
We fall silent as I roll up to the lodge.
The snow is falling a little heavier than before.
I glance at the sky. I need to check the forecast again.
Things can shift so fast up here. You have to be prepared for anything, including getting trapped for weeks.
I’m not sure how I feel about that with Stephanie being here, since it normally doesn’t bother me.
I get why she is averse to the containment, but she has to recognize it’s for her own good.
Christopher isn’t your run-of-the-mill stalker obsessed with an off-limits woman.
He’s a predator, a man with deep pockets and a sick appetite for pain.
I grip the steering wheel so hard my shoulders ache. How can I explain it to her? Get her to fully understand?
“Don’t do that,” she whispers, breaking me out of my tumbling thoughts.
My head snaps to her. “Do what?”
“Don’t treat me like a stupid little girl who’s trying to get her own way.”
I frown. “When did I treat you like a little girl?”
She laughs, but it’s cold. “I note you didn’t address the stupid.
” I open my mouth to argue, and she holds her hand up, silencing me.
“You kiss me like a woman, then make plans in your head like I have no say, no choices, no freedom. I’m not the woman who dies in the first ten minutes of the movie.
I might have a heart, and I may carry my emotions more clearly than others, but I’m not running off into the woods.
I’m not doing stupid shit on social media.
Hell, I haven’t even looked at any of those apps since we arrived.
But it doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated, and I should be allowed to show that without you starting to plot how to proverbially tie me to the bed. ”
I blink, not sure what to say, especially to that last part.
She pats my hand in a “bless your heart” gesture that makes me feel like I’m the stupid one. “It’s okay, James. I’m okay. I don’t need to be watched or controlled. I just need to be kept in the loop, to be treated with respect. That’s not too much to ask, right?”
“No.”
She nods and opens the truck door. I’m stumped by her astute observations. I consider myself a hard person to read, given how I’m successfully pretending to be the leader of a corrupt organization while hand-delivering men to the FBI’s doorstep.
She opens the tailgate and grabs as many packages as she can manage.
I shake myself out of my stupor and go to help her.
We work in silence to empty the truck, and she hums a quiet tune I can’t place as she puts away the groceries.
I concentrate on opening the boxes and dividing them into purchases for her, and on the opposite end of the kitchen counter, purchases for me.
It’s about an eighty/twenty split, and so far I’ve counted forty-one bottles of nail polish.
Each shade makes my lips twitch, because red is red, green is green, and I’m aware I’m being a typical man.
She parks her hands on her hips once the food is tucked neatly away and nods at the final few packages. “They all for me?”
“Mostly. I’m looking for the internet booster I ordered.
” I shake a box about the size of a cereal box.
A few heavy things slide around, but none of them glass, so definitely not nail polish.
This must be mine. I peel back the tape to reveal...
Wait, what? My eyes lift to the innocent-looking woman before me as she pours herself a glass of soda.
“You feeling a little frustrated, sweetheart?”
She snorts. “What do you think?”
“I think you’ve found a way to deal with it.”
She spins to put the bottle of soda back in the refrigerator, clueless about my meaning. “Well, we can’t all go chopping wood to deal with our feelings.”
I predict a lot of wood chopping in my future. “And the shower just isn’t doing the job?”
She sprays a mouthful of brown soda over the counter with wide eyes. Yes, that’s right. I found your little message. She recovers and purses her lips. “I have no idea what you mean.”
I pick up one of the boxes inside the package. “Rechargeable. That’s handy. Eight speeds, five vibration rhythms, and the promise of G-spot stimulation. It certainly is a great all-rounder.”
Her breath rushes out, and she blinks at the box. “Fucking hell, Eleanor.”
“What has my sister got to do with this?”
“I forgot she promised to send something to, um... help with the frustration.”
I consider burning the box for a moment. If I have to suffer, so should she. Instead, I drop it back inside and fold over the flaps, forcing myself not to explore the rest of the offerings. I need to chop said wood. Now.
I turn on my heel and stalk toward the rear door.
A hand curls around my bicep. “James, wait. We should talk about the kiss.”
I growl low, spin, grab her wrists, and push her against the wall with them pinned above her head. Her pupils dilate. “You want to talk about the kiss?”
She licks her lips as if she’s imagining my mouth on hers. “I think we need to clear the air, yes.”
“Clear the air?”
Her chest rises and falls. “Yes.”
I lean in closer, letting my chest brush against her full breasts. “The air can’t be cleared, sweetheart. Everywhere I turn, your sweet berry scent lingers, and now I know you taste just as good as you smell. The air can’t be cleared until you leave.”
“If I’m that much of a nuisance, drive me into town and I’ll find my way back to Fox and Honor’s.”
She knows that’s not happening, and she knows that’s not what I meant. “Don’t act coy, Stephanie, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Then drop the uninterested act.”
I tilt my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I am asking for honesty.”
My jaw clenches. Walk away. Do it now. But she needs to know. She needs to fear me just a little, and this thing, whatever it is, will die a death, and then she can be free to find someone good.
“You sure about that?” Last chance.
“One hundred percent.”
I pull her arms higher, forcing her onto her tiptoes.
“I want you on your knees. I want you to wear my handprints on your ass for days. I want to drive you to the edge and keep you begging for release until it hurts. I want to drive my cock inside your pussy until you’re aching and sore.
I want your throat bruised, your nipples raw, your lips swollen.
I want to tie you to my bed and torment you, winding you tighter and higher. I want to ruin you.”
I press myself against her, chest to chest, groin to groin, allowing her to feel exactly what she does to me. I glide the tip of my nose up her neck, breathing her in before murmuring, “Now is the time to run screaming, sweetheart.”
“But what if I want those things too?”
Fuck.