Chapter 16
JAMIE
I’ve driven this mountain twenty times in the dark, and it’s never once made me nervous until tonight.
Blaire rides next to me with her heels kicked off.
I keep catching myself looking over instead of at the switchbacks.
The heater’s roaring because the vinyl roof is useless, and she’s got her hands in the vents like she’s at a campfire.
Every turn slides the black dress a little farther up her thigh, which is not helping me drive.
“So,” she says, “the ridge.”
“Yeah. My brother is …” I pause, trying to think of the perfect description. “I don’t know how to explain him sometimes. We’re more different than alike.”
A pair of eyes flashes in the headlights, and I brake as a mule deer crosses the road.
Blaire places her hand over her chest. “Scared the shit out of me.”
I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh. “I got you.”
We continue traveling up the mountain.
“I’ve lived in this area my whole adult life, and I’ve never been past the gate at the bottom. You know, they call this subdivision Douchebag Drive.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I say. “He bought it a few years ago and never uses it. I think that’s why he was so eager to hand me the keys. Put some life into it.”
I enter the code into the private gate, and it swings open. Her brows pop up, and she smiles as we enter. The trees surround the smoothly paved road, and eventually, the sky opens, revealing the glass house up on the hill.
Blaire leans forward and stares up at it. “So, your brother is rich, rich.”
“My entire family is.”
I park in the circular drive and get out, opening her door for her.
“The place is glass,” she says. “It’s like an aquarium for a person.”
I place my hand on the small of her back as I lead her up the steps. “It feels the same way when you’re inside.”
The facial recognition scans my face, and the door opens. Her heels click against the marble floor as she enters the foyer. She moves into the living room, sliding her hand against the back of the white couches I’m sure no one has sat on. Then her eyes scan over the paintings on the wall.
I move beside her. “My sister painted these.”
“Wow,” she whispers. “Gorgeous.”
I stare at her. “Agreed.”
She licks her lips.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, moving into the kitchen, where there’s a case of her favorite wine sitting on the counter.
Her eyes widen. “This is a lot of bottles for someone who rated it a five.”
“It’s now my new favorite,” I tell her, pulling two wineglasses from the cabinet.
I pop open the cork, and Blaire snatches the bottle from the counter, taking a gulp straight from the top.
“We don’t need them. Come on. Give me the grand tour.”
So, I carry the bottle with us.
The house used to feel empty, but it feels different with her here. The theater room has twelve leather recliners and a popcorn machine no one has ever used.
She moves down the aisle, sinks into a chair, takes a drink of wine, and hands me the bottle. “This is very fancy.”
I watch her. “I suppose.”
“Have you used it?”
“Never. Don’t think anyone has.”
“That’s a crime.” She swipes the bottle from me, drinks again, and hands it back. “Before November, we’re watching a scary movie. Popcorn and everything. It’s spooky season, and I’d like to have the full experience.”
“Consider it done,” I say faster than I meant to. I like that she’s making plans for us.
We walk through the home gym next. There’s a wall with mirrors, and she raises her eyebrows at her reflection.
“Do you ever use this room?”
“Occasionally. You should come watch sometime.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Mr. Cross.”
We pass the dining room, then head upstairs. The hallway lights are on motion sensors and come on as we walk.
She opens every door and wanders into the hall bathroom and whistles at the soaking tub. “I’m already imagining myself in this.”
“I’m imagining you in there too.”
That earns me a laugh.
At the end of the hallway, there’s an office. Inside is a glass desk, a leather chair, and a full wall of built-in shelves.
She stops and stares. “Weird to have a library with no books. There’s enough space to fit thousands of books.” She pauses for a moment. “This is sad.”
I tilt my head. “What is?”
“That your brother has all this money to buy this big-ass house, and it feels empty.”
We pass the wine between us. Our fingers brush together, and heat rushes up my arm. I swallow hard, but she doesn’t seem to notice how she’s slowly undoing me. She walks the perimeter of the room. That black dress she’s wearing looks painted on.
Blaire turns and glances at me. “You’re staring, Mr. Cross.”
“You’re mesmerizing.”
She moves toward me. “Which room in this house is your favorite?”
I hook my finger with hers, dragging her back down the stairs, across the living room, and to the patio. The pool runs the length of the house, and the water looks turquoise against the night. Below, the carnival in Pine Haven glitters. A sliver of moon hangs lazily in the sky.
“I prefer to be outside of that ridiculous house. Each morning, I stand here and drink a shot of espresso. This view is my favorite.”
“It’s starting to become mine too.”
I glance at her, and she reaches behind her, then drags down the zipper of her dress.
The material falls to the ground, and her bra follows it.
Then she slides out of her panties. I want to memorize every inch of her.
Goose bumps scatter down her arms, and her nipples tighten in the cool September breeze.
She confidently stands there, completely bare, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me.
“Join me.” She says it like a dare, then dives in. She comes up giggling, dark hair slicked back. “The water feels amazing,” she says, floating on her back.
My hat comes off. I unbutton my shirt, remove my belt and jeans, then slide out of my boxers. Her grin widens as she watches me walk toward her into the pool. When I’m close, she wraps her arms around my neck. Drops of water are on her long lashes.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Just thinking.”
She pushes my wet hair back off my forehead with both hands, studying me from an inch away. “Don’t do that. Live in the moment. All we have is right now anyway.”
Then our lips crash together. At first, it’s ravenous, then transforms into something more seductive.
Her fingers tighten in my hair as everything pours out of us.
I walk her backward through the water until her spine meets the pool wall.
She gasps when my mouth is on her throat, jaw, then ear.
Steam rises around us. She arches into me as both my hands travel over her under the surface, learning her like I haven’t spent two nights doing exactly that.
“Turn around,” I say against her ear. “Hands on the edge.”
She doesn’t object and does so without any hesitation. My palms slide up her thighs, her stomach, over her breasts, until her head drops onto my shoulder. Her breathing grows more ragged as I touch her.
“I can’t fucking stand the thought of another man’s hands on you.”
I slide my palm down between her thighs, and she moans. There’s no need to be quiet up here. She’s loud, like she was in the secret room, riding my hand. The town lights twinkle below us as she fills the silence.
“You make me feel so good,” she confesses. “Like you know exactly what my body needs.”
“I do,” I whisper against her hair, rubbing circles on her clit.
I take my time with her, backing off when she’s close.
I tease her until she’s trembling. The next time I touch her, her thighs clamp around my hand, and she breaks.
Blaire cries out into the empty valley, and I work her through her orgasm.
It’s intense, and I love that it’s me bringing her this pleasure and not anyone else.
Eventually, she relaxes with her back against my chest. As her breathing settles, she finally turns to face me.
The teasing is gone. She kisses me slow, tasting like wine and whiskey.
Her fingers rest on my cheek, and she reaches down for my cock.
I could take her right here against this wall. An hour ago, I would have.
“Not here,” I softly say against her mouth.
She studies me for a second, trying to read my face. Then I lift her out of the water, and she wraps her arms around me without a word.
The September night is cold as I carry her across the patio. Water drips from both of us, leaving a trail of puddles, marking where I’ve been. Neither of us says a word as we enter the house and float up the staircase. She’s naked and wet in my arms, and it’s hard for me to believe.
I lay her down in the middle of the bed.
She reaches for me. I catch her hand and kiss the center of her palm.
Then I start at her ankle. My mouth moves up her, placing slow kisses along her skin.
I want to worship her. I kiss her calf, the inside of her thigh, the soft skin on her hip bone, and the curve of her waist. Her eyes close, and she sighs and shifts under me.
By the time I reach her throat, she’s whispering my name.
Downstairs, she told me to live in the moment. She said all we had was right now anyway. It should comfort me, but it doesn’t. Somewhere between High Spirits and this bed, right now isn’t enough for me.
“Jamie.” Her hands frame my face. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere. I’m here.”
I reach for the duffel beside the bed, out of habit, and she catches my wrist.
“No,” she says. “Not tonight. I’m on birth control.” She drags her thumb over the inside of my wrist. “I want to feel you. Just you.”
It’s one rule I’ve never broken. There’s never been a time without one, not once, with anyone.
Even when I was in a serious relationship.
But when Blaire looks up at me from the middle of the bed, with wet hair and shining eyes, I want to give her this part of me.
That would usually scare the shit out of me, but it doesn’t.
“I’ve never …”
She looks surprised. “I get one of your firsts?”
“Yes,” I whisper, settling between her thighs.
I slide into her slowly, and my vision blurs at the edges. She’s soft and slick and squeezing me so damn tight. I give her time to adjust to me, then push in a little deeper. I groan into her neck, almost feeling helplessly out of control with her.
“More,” she says, taking more of me.
I give her all of me until we’re both breathless.
“You’re almost too much,” she whispers, and it comes out like a confession.
“I know.” I drop my forehead to hers. “You are too, sweetheart.”
I rock my hips, and she moans into my mouth. I swallow every sound she makes. No one warned me it could feel like this. I slide out, then go deeper as her nails scratch down my back.
“More.” Her heels dig into me. “Harder, Jamie. Give me all of you. Stop holding back.”
I’d give her anything she asked for in that voice.
I hook her knee up over my hip and drive into her, harder.
The headboard pounds against the wall, and she cries out, grabbing the comforter.
One moan fades into another. She pulls sounds out of me I don’t recognize.
I groan into her throat, curse, and whisper her name.
Flush spreads down her chest, and sweat sticks to where our skin touches.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
I bury myself into her, so fucking greedy for everything she’s giving me.
“You’re mine, Blaire,” I say and drive the words into her.
“Yours.” Her voice cracks on it. “Yours, Jamie. Yours.”
There’s a deadline to this, but neither of us mentions it.
Before she comes, I pull out, flip us, and drag her over me. “Take what’s yours.”
She straddles my thighs, and then she sinks down onto me. We both tremble.
Blaire’s hands rest on my chest as she rises up and down, finding her rhythm. The moonlight splashes across her body as she fucks me senseless.
Her hips roll, and she uses me exactly how she needs. I reach up, pinching her nipples until she’s growling. My hand slides over her throat, my thumb resting lightly at the base. Her pulse races.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
She’s close.
“Jamie, I …”
“I’ve got you.” I drive up into her, holding her waist, creating more friction.
Our eyes stay locked together. Her back arches, and then she breaks, crying out my name. Feeling her clench so damn hard has me seeing stars. The orgasm rips through me while she grinds down, riding out her release. Blaire doesn’t stop as I pump into her, filling her full.
“Yes, yes,” she whispers against my lips, kissing me. “I have you inside me, Jamie.”
I wrap my arms around her, and she lies on my chest. Neither of us moves for a long time as I run my fingers through her silky, dark hair. I slide my fingers up and down her back. She hums at my touch as we stay connected.
“You make me lose control,” she says. “When I’m with you, it’s like …”
“Nothing else matters,” I finish.
“Yeah.”
She’s quiet for a long while. We eventually break apart and clean up before sliding back under the blankets.
“I’m really jealous you haven’t read my palm.”
She gives me a half-smile and grabs my hand. Her fingers trace the lines.
“What do you see?” I ask.
Then she folds my fingers closed and settles into my side.
“Happiness,” she says.
The quiet of the night settles around us, and I hold her against me as we fall asleep. Through the glass wall, the carnival below blinks out one ride at a time.
She draws lazy shapes on my skin. Maybe they’re circles, or letters, or one of her many symbols. I don’t ask. Whatever she’s writing on me with her invisible ink, I want it there.
I close my eyes, pulling her closer, inhaling the sweetness of her skin.
For the first time since I arrived in Pine Haven, the house doesn’t feel empty.