Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
DALTON
I stand in the backyard, nodding like an idiot, half-listening to a contractor as he discusses options for replacing Mom’s fence. With my hands in the pockets of my jeans, I hum in agreement when he starts talking numbers, my eyes glued on the weathered fence.
I can’t concentrate.
I could have just sold my soul to the devil, without even knowing it. Because I’ve been turning over the events of last night and this morning like a hamster wheel since Hudson dropped me off earlier.
The drive was eerily quiet.
Not one word was spoken between us about Savanna.
Between Savanna’s love confession, the newly realized fear of me leaving her, and my recruiter’s email dangling over my head—let's just say I’m fucked.
Walking the contractor out, I spot Mom in the garden.
I update her on the appointment, even though I was hardly listening.
Making my way closer to her, I watch her crouch down in the dirt, her gloved fingers pressing firmly in the soil.
When she sees me coming, she sits back on her heels.
Her wide-brimmed sun hat shields her face from the early afternoon sun.
“Hi, honey, how’d the contractor meeting go?”
Crossing my arms against my chest, I shrug. “It went well. He said he can start the project in about two weeks. Should only take him a few days once he gets started.”
That much I got.
“Oh. That’s good news. The sooner, the better!” She smiles. “And the price?”
I grunt. “Reasonable, I guess.” Shifting my weight, I continue, “It sounds like the fence will be nice for the new owners once it’s done.”
She hums as she thinks. “I’m sure it will. I should have replaced the fence a long time ago. I just let so much maintenance go on this house. It's just too big for an old woman like me.” She chuckles, standing. Taking off her gardening gloves, she tucks them into her back pocket.
Swallowing hard, I clear my throat. “I would beg to differ, Mom. You’re not that old,” I say frankly.
Sensing my stiffness, she laughs. “Well, honey, I’m not getting any younger. No one can argue that.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “Oh. I was going to ask, where were you last night? I didn’t hear you come in.”
Oh, this woman is good. I see what her intention is now.
She wants to snoop.
I look down at my work boots, avoiding eye contact with the woman who birthed me. “Just stayed at Hudson’s.”
Am I going to hell for lying to my mom right now? Yeah, I probably am.
“Oh,” she says, rearing her head back in surprise. “I talked to Hudson’s mom this morning, and she mentioned he had Drew over there for a sleepover. Something about Savanna being under the weather?”
Damnit. Why do I keep forgetting our moms are good friends?
You can’t get anything past them.
Caught off guard, I cough into my fist. “Oh. Well, yeah. Savanna was sick. So, actually, I was going to stay at Hudson’s…but then Savanna needed help, so I offered to stay at her house just in case…at the last minute,” I say, stammering, hoping she doesn’t see through the bullshit.
I’m wrong.
She does.
Her eyes light up with a gleam. “Well, how very thoughtful of you. I raised my boy right, then.”
Her tone shifts, coming out amused. “You know, I haven’t seen Savanna date anyone in the last few years. I always thought it was so strange. A gorgeous girl like herself, who bartends, must have the pick of the litter when it comes to men.”
Mom’s eyes narrow, studying my face, searching for a reaction.
Taking my baseball hat off abruptly, I run my fingers through my hair. Repositioning it, a grunt spills from my chest. “Yeah, I’m not sure about her dating life, Mom.”
I fucking hate saying that sentence out loud.
She scans me with suspicion before clasping her hands together. “Well, honey, thanks again for meeting with the contractor this morning. I’m going to head inside and get cleaned up. I told Jenny I would go with her to pick Drew up from school today. We have some art projects planned for later.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Alright, Mom. Have fun.”
As I follow behind, my phone alerts me to an incoming text. I glance down to see Savanna’s name light up on the screen.
My heart hammers in my chest.
I click it open and scan the text. Savanna wants to invite me over for lunch? After she clearly gave me the boot in front of Hudson this morning?
What is her motive here?
Whatever it is, I’ll bite.
I send a message back as another one instantly comes through.
She’s being flirty. Really flirty.
From the way she’s texting me right now, I can tell lunch with me isn’t all she wants this afternoon. My cock gets instantly hard.
Fuck.
Finally.
I’m pretty sure I’m breaking every single traffic law on the island, driving to Savanna’s. My foot touches the floorboards of my truck, accelerating as fast as I can, only to come to a grinding halt at the next stoplight.
Just five fucking miles.
Get it together, Dalton.
I drum my fingers impatiently on the leather steering wheel, waiting for the light to turn green.
When it finally does, I slam my foot down on the gas pedal, causing my body to fly back into the seat.
Shit, I’m a fucking nervous wreck. I’m well aware that I’m driving like a maniac, but I can’t help it.
I want her.
I need her.
I come to a screeching stop in Savanna’s driveway, throwing my truck in park and jumping out. Like my ass is on fire, I jog up the porch steps two at a time. Once I'm at her door, I take a few deep breaths, hoping to regain some sense of composure.
I rap my knuckles on the door, impatiently shifting my weight as my pulse throbs against my chest. After a few seconds, I hear a faint “It’s open” come from the other side. I turn the handle, finding the door unlocked.
Shit.
She left it unlocked.
Huffing out a breath, I walk gingerly inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. When I don’t immediately spot Savanna, my hands become clammy, afraid she’s going to pop out at me.
I’m like a kid in a haunted house right now.
Every sense of self is on heightened alert. “Savanna?” I call out hesitantly.
“In here,” she calls back, her voice trailing from the kitchen.
Whew, obviously. Duh, Dalton.
I blow out a breath. I’m not sure what I was expecting walking in here—of course, she’s just in the kitchen. She mentioned grilled cheese, so where else would she be?
Waiting naked in her bed for me?
I shake my head at the image.
Yeah, right. One can only dream up that fantasy of Savanna.
Stalking toward the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks. My mouth gapes open, tongue practically falling out. Because Savanna may not have waited naked for me in her bed, but she most definitely has been waiting naked for me in her kitchen.
Holy shit.
My eyes slowly adjust to the scene unfolding, as if I’m imagining it. After a few quick head shakes, I realize this is, in fact, not a dream, but my current reality.
There, standing before me, is Savanna cooking at the stove.
Completely fucking naked.
As if she cooks naked all the time.
My eyes trail over her bare body. The only exception is the Kiss the Chef apron she has tied around her neck. The knotted strings flow down the middle of her back, landing at the dimples on the small of her back. My cock instantly throbs.
Jesus.
A groan falls from my mouth as I slide my hands down my face. “Fuck, Savanna.”
My voice comes out starved as I stalk toward her. I grab her by the hips and pull her to me, laying a kiss on her neck.
“Uh-uh,” she taunts, turning to me. The little apron she is wearing barely covers her full breasts. Her long blonde hair comes down in waves, perfectly placed to hide her dainty nipples.
I let out a labored groan.
I want to see those perfect, perky breasts now.
Savanna points her spatula at me, digging it into my chest. “No playing with your food, Dalton. You need to eat your lunch first.”
I whimper, eyes roaming her face. “Come on, baby. You're killing me here.”
A flicker of mischief sparks in her eyes. She’s torturing me right now, and she’s enjoying it.
I have never been so turned on in my entire life.
Savanna bites her lip, her eyes falling to my mouth. “No exceptions, Dalton. I know how much you like ice cream for lunch, but a man like you needs an actual meal.”
Fuck. This seductive side of Savanna has me on fire right now.
She wants to play? Fine, I’ll play her game for a quick second.
“Oh yeah? An actual meal, huh?” I murmur into her ear, drawing her body flush to mine. Her eyes widen when she feels my length pressed hard against her.
“That’s right,” she says, spinning in my arms to flip the grilled cheese.
A naked Savanna, and my favorite grilled cheese?
God, what good deed did I do to deserve this?
Because, fuck…
This is like every man’s fantasy rolled into one.
A moan escapes her mouth as I press my body into her.
I kiss her neck, licking her and nibbling her earlobe, running my palms up and down her body. My fingertips graze down her spine, making her erupt in a shiver. When I get to her backside, I give her a firm squeeze.
Savanna lets out a whimper as my hands explore her, pained noises escaping her mouth as my light touch trails her body. Leaning forward, I reach my arm around her, sliding my fingers under her apron. I sink my fingers into her.
Fucking soaked.
My arousal officially kicks into high gear.
“Baby, I’m going to give you about five seconds to finish that damn sandwich before I decide to bend you over this counter and fuck you,” I hiss into her ear.
Savanna’s breath hitches at my demand.
And since I’m a greedy bastard who can’t control my cock another second longer, I reach around her and turn off the stove myself.
Yeah, she’s done.
Spinning Savanna around to face me, I grab her hips and hike her up my waist. Her legs wrap around my back. Walking us to the other side of the kitchen, I drop her bare ass on the cool tile, and a hiss escapes her lips.
I step in between her naked thighs, admiring that there’s nothing separating me from her. No pants, no panties—just a gorgeous pussy hiding under an apron. In one quick move, I could take my length out of my jeans and be inside her within seconds.
I groan as I marvel at her. “Are you trying to tease me, baby?” I say, taking her mouth into mine.
She whimpers as her tongue tangles with mine.
She’s my favorite taste.
I grind into her center, our kisses turning frantic. When I realize she’s still wearing her apron, I reach around her neck, finding the little bow at the base of her skull. I gently tug to release it, making the apron pool around her hips.
Tossing it to the ground, I stand back and take in the sight before me.
Savanna naked on the counter.
As if she were a gift I just unwrapped.
Heat burns in her eyes, fingers trailing up and down my pecs. “Ditch the shirt, Dalton.”
Following her demand, I tug off my shirt, tossing it next to her apron. The only thing left on my chest is the military-issued dog tags that I never take off. Savanna licks her lips as she grabs the metal chain and tugs me back into her.
“You're fucking me with these on, Dalton. I want to be reminded that a Marine is inside me when I come,” she says, carefully examining them.
Savanna releases the tags, pushing me away. “Now, pants.”
“You trying to fuck me, Savanna?” I say enticingly, stepping between her legs. Taking one of her breasts into my hands, I gently knead it as I bow my head, taking her into my mouth. My tongue swirls around her nipple.
Her head falls back, a sigh escaping her. “Not fair, Dalton,” she huffs, gripping the back of my head, holding me to her chest.
I chuckle, gently sinking my teeth into her nipple. “Just playing the game, baby.”
Savanna exhales a frustrated breath, her hands landing on my jean-clad hips as she tries to push them down.
She’s desperate.
Standing back, I give her a mischievous grin.
Slowly, I unbuckle my leather belt, tug it through the loops, and let it fall. Savanna watches my fingers as I flick the nickel of my jeans, her eyes glazing over. Kicking my jeans off, I toss them to the side. All that is left are my boxers. Once those are off, there’s no going back.
I won’t be able to stop.
“Keep going,” she encourages, licking her lips as her eyes stay glued to my thighs.
Slowly, I push down my boxers, and my cock springs free. Her eyes widen when she sees how ready I am.
“Dalton...” she gasps, chest heaving.
“This is all yours, baby,” I say, stepping between her thighs again.
Savanna rolls her lips together, taking me into her hands. I whimper as her hands move around me. She swipes across the top, moisture already leaking, and brings her finger to her mouth to lick it off.
My jaw falls open, letting out a groan. “Fuck, Savanna.”
She tugs my neck, bringing her lips to my ear. “Be gentle with me, Dalton. I haven’t had sex in a long time,” she whispers.
I swallow hard, and my voice comes out gravelly as I ask, “How long is long, Savanna?”
I hate the thought of her with anyone—except me.
She looks away nervously, her cheeks turning pink. “A few years,” she mumbles.
My head recoils. “Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”
Her eyes cast downward, drawing lazy circles on the counter with her finger. “Since Drew,” she whispers.
My mouth falls open, voice edging on denial. “You haven’t had sex since Drew, Savanna?” Her eyes flutter up to meet mine. “That’s six fucking years.”
“How the fuck is that possible?” I ask, scratching my jaw. The realization that this woman has the willpower of a saint throttles me.
“I don’t know…it’s just it didn’t work out for me very well last time,” she says hesitantly, tucking a loose stand of hair behind her ear.
Fuck.
I don’t think I can take this slow anymore. I grab her hips and pull her to me. Her back hits the counter at my sudden movement. Kneeling, I bring her pussy to my face, tongue finding her clit as she lets out a whine.
“Dalton,” she whimpers, her body squirming on the counter.
“Yeah, you like that?” I ask, taking her clit into my mouth, sucking and biting.
“Oh, God!” she cries, her thighs squeezing around my face.
“Don’t come yet,” I demand. “Not until I say so, baby.”
Teasing her, I drive her closer to the edge, pulling myself back when I know she’s close. I glance up and watch her chest heaving, her eyes trained on me—watching me devour her.
She’s so close.
And I’m so fucking turned on.
I can feel moisture dripping from my length, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it together. I’m about to come undone right here on Savanna’s goddamn kitchen floor—just from the act of pleasuring her.
Breaking away from Savanna, I tug her up and into my chest.
She groans, frustrated that my mouth is no longer on her. “Is this some kind of torture you're getting off on, Dalton?”
Torture? She has no fucking idea.
“There’s no fucking way I’m making love to you for the first time in six years on this goddamn kitchen counter, Savanna.”
Savanna’s breath hitches. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I walk us up the stairs, our lips never breaking contact on the way up.
I need her in a bed.
Now.