Chapter Eight
Breanna woke to snow softly falling outside the window.
What day was it now, anyway? Monday? Tuesday? She’d lost all sense of time here.
Handing her a mug of coffee, Sinjin got under the covers. He laced their fingers together, and bringing her knuckles to his lips, he kissed them. “What shall we do today, princess?”
“I have a name, you know.” She sniggered, blowing on the piping hot brew.
Not that she’d ever tell him, but she liked being his princess. And she loved being his dirty girl.
“So you’ve said, Miss Dalton.” He nuzzled up the side of her neck, whispering into her ear. “Breanna.”
She giggled, his breath tickling her skin. “You know, I’ve told you a lot about me, but the only thing I know about you is your first name.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” Fingertips skimming along her jaw, he asked, “What would you like to know?”
“How old are you?”
“Old.” Sinjin dropped his hand, sinking back against the pillow. “Thirty. Too old for you.”
“Is not.”
He turned onto his side, bringing Breanna to his chest. “No?”
“I don’t think so.” Dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, she smiled. “What is it you do? For a living, I mean.”
“This and that.”
Whatever that meant. ‘This and that’ must be quite lucrative, considering he drove a truck that cost more than most people earn in an entire year.
“Do you live up here on the mountain?”
“Not far.” Fingers moved up and down her spine.
“So, I could run into you after we leave here?”
“You could.” The movement on her back ceased, Sinjin’s ever-present smirk widening into a grin. “Would you like that?”
Yes.
“Maybe.”
“I’d like that.” Cupping her bottom, he pressed her body into his. “Even though I shouldn’t.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” She froze. “Are you married or something?”
“I’m not married.” With an amused chuckle, his hand slid off her ass to squeeze the flesh between her legs. “Or something.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “So, Breanna, what shall we do today?”
She glanced outside the window. “More of what we did yesterday.”
“God, you weren’t supposed to be this perfect.” Threading his fingers in her hair, Sinjin held her face and kissed her. Gently. Tender-like. It almost felt sweet, which in the short time she’d known him, she learned wasn’t his way. “Will you do something for me?”
“What?”
“I want you to make yourself come, and I want to watch you while you do it,” he said, his fingers combing through her hair.
Her pulse skittered. “Why?”
“So I can always remember how beautiful you were.” A flash of vulnerability on his face, he cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “With those fairytale blue eyes of yours looking right at me.”
At a loss as to how to even begin, Breanna sat up. Placing a pillow behind her, she leaned against the iron spindles. Of course, she’d done this by herself countless times, but no one had ever watched her before—not that she knew of, anyway. Maybe it was silly, considering they’d been fucking like rabbits, but she’d be lying not to admit the thought of it made her a little nervous.
Sinjin positioned himself in front of her. His eyes on hers, he urged her to proceed. Tipping his chin, the movement was subtle.
He didn’t look at her breasts as she toyed with her nipples. He didn’t follow the trail of fingertips sweeping down her belly toward the place that pulsed between her thighs. Those heated brown eyes of his stayed right on hers.
Penetrating herself, Breanna’s lips parted. Liquid silk coating her fingers, she sucked them into her mouth. His tongue swept over his bottom lip, nevertheless, his gaze did not waver.
And gazing right back, blue locked on whiskey, she stroked her clit. Barely there circles. Slowly, up and down. Swiftly, side to side.
What did he see looking at her?
A girl in lust? Surely.
A girl falling in love? She hoped not.
But she was afraid that perhaps she could be.
And with the thought of loving this man in her mind, Breanna rubbed herself until she came.
Sinjin held her after. Kissing her as the tremors subsided, he stroked her skin and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Sorry? What for?
Glancing at the window, he got out of bed and began putting on his clothes. “The snow is letting up a little.” He went over to the door, grabbing his coat from the peg on the wall. “Gonna see how much shit there is to shovel. Try to clear the porch steps, anyway.”
“Oh, okay.” Covering herself with the blanket, she drew her knees up under her chin.
“Think you can manage our lunch, princess?”
She nodded. “Chicken noodle?”
“Yeah.” He came back. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Sinjin tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’ve got to be sore. Have a nice, long soak while I’m gone.”
Their time together was almost up. The snow would stop soon. She knew it, and so did he. Breanna laid back in the hot water and closed her eyes. She should be glad to be getting out of here. She had to get to Dalton House and a drugstore for the morning-after pill. Never mind, she’d just finished her period—better to be safe than sorry. And then there was her car. God, how much was that going to cost, and how long would it take them to fix it? Didn’t matter. She had to get back to Portland. Her life was there, so why did the thought of leaving here make her feel so out of sorts?
Sinjin. Duh.
She must be thinking with her vagina. Good orgasms can do that. She’d seen it happen to her friends at school time and time again. It’s like a guy who shows skills with a clit is some precious commodity or something. Apparently, that can make a girl do stupid things.
She was so not catching feelings for him.
Yes, you are.
Yeah, okay, she was. But Breanna was too smart to do anything stupid.
“Looks good on you.” He smiled at her.
Sinjin stood just inside the door, removing his gloves and knocking snow from his boots. With his skin reddened, watery eyes, and lips chapped from the cold air, he hung up his coat, and, leaving a trail of footprints on the wooden floor, padded barefoot over to the kitchen.
“Hope you don’t mind.” She’d thrown on his soft flannel button-up after her bath.
“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed the skin beneath her ear. “I think you’ll be seeing the sun tomorrow.”
Grabbing it from the back of his neck, Sinjin pulled off his Henley. He shucked off his jeans at the bathroom door, and gloriously naked, stepped inside.
The door left ajar, Breanna could hear him at the sink. Bath water running. She picked up his discarded clothing, placed them on the rack by the fire, and took the pot off the stove.
They sat at the table, eating soup and saltine crackers, without talking.
He stayed quiet, sipping bourbon all afternoon.
When evening came, Sinjin pulled her down to his lap. He just held her. Snuggled together in a chair for hours, he kissed her hair, stroking her skin in front of the fire.
And the snow stopped falling.
“C’mon, princess. Let’s go to bed.”
He knelt beside her on the goose-down comforter. Feathering kisses along her face, her neck, her pulse bounding beneath his lips. His fingertips traced across her collarbone, then downward to release the buttons of her shirt. The soft flannel gave way, and pushing the sleeves off her shoulders, he lowered his body onto hers until their mouths met.
Sinjin kissed her soft and deep and slow. Lips lingering on her skin, he trailed exquisite kisses down her neck. He took his time as if he wanted this to last. Fingers tangled in his hair, and softly sighing, Breanna held onto him.
His hands slid over her skin to squeeze her breasts in his palms. Breanna sucked in a breath and his lips left her neck to suckle a nipple. Breathy sighs became soft moans.
Her fingertips skated down his back, memorizing the smooth, firm feel of his flesh as she held him there. God, what was he doing to her? Tender and sweet, Sinjin kissed his way down her body to bury his head between her thighs.
Lavishing her pussy with languid sweeps of his tongue, he pushed his fingers inside her. Fuck, yes. That always sent her flying. Breanna waited for the fervent finger-fucking that was sure to follow, but it never came. With long, purposeful, drawn-out strokes, suckling on her clit, Sinjin coaxed the mind-numbing orgasm out of her.
Pushing her leg back to her shoulder, he kissed her then. Frenzied and urgent, their mouths collided. Clutching at his hair, Breanna tasted herself on his tongue and smelled herself on his beard. Sinjin devoured her until he ran out of air.
And then he filled her.
Holding her tightly to his chest, he gazed into her eyes, and never let go.
They lay together after, stroking each other’s skin. Breanna was trying so hard to stay awake, because what if tonight was the last night she had with him? But it was so warm beneath the goose-down comforter, lying in the circle of Sinjin’s arms, with the crackle of wood and the flickering flames lulling her to sleep.
“I swear to Christ, Breanna…I’d keep you if I could.”
She felt his lips on her forehead.
Fingers stroked her hair.
A whisper.
“Forgive me.”