Chapter Twenty-Seven
On the other side of the mountain, the predawn sky was just beginning to lighten. Bathed in fog and shadows, the view outside her window appeared ominous. At dinner last night, Ted informed them a monster storm was on the way. “They’re saying we’re gonna get eight to ten this weekend.”
“Inches?”
“Nooo, Breanna.” He chuckled at her na?veté. “That would be eight to ten feet.”
“Oh.”
“Remember when I explained what an atmospheric river is?”
Kind of. She nodded.
“Well, there’s one headed straight for us.”
That’s when Francie advised her that if she hoped to make it to LA for Christmas, she’d best be off the mountain, heading south on 395, before the first snowflake fell. Breanna thought she’d at least have another week. She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Her plan was to go home, come back to ring in the new year with Sinjin, and then return to Portland to start her last semester, dammit.
After dinner and a glass of brandy, Ted and Francie bid them goodnight, then she and Sinjin went upstairs. The door had barely closed behind them when he grabbed her, kissing her and tearing at her clothes like he might never see her again.
And they’d been going at it like rabbits ever since.
Her pussy was raw, and her nipples tender. Breanna was certain that once it was light enough to see, she’d find bite marks and fingerprints coloring her skin. But then, she was sure she’d find them on him, too.
“Damn, princess, how is it you’re still so wet?” The sheets beneath her soaked, his fingers were inside her once again.
Breanna curled her fingers around his erection and squeezed. “How is it you’re still so hard?”
“Fuck,” Sinjin groaned, his teeth sinking into her neck.
He smoothed over the sting with his tongue, kissing up the column of her throat and along her jaw until their lips met. The ache in her pussy flaring, Breanna gave in to the feeling. She never could resist his magic fingers or those decadent kisses.
So she didn’t.
Jagged lightning erupting through her belly, a rush of fluid seeped down her thighs. Caught off-guard, she choked on air, the orgasm striking without warning. She couldn’t breathe for a moment, and when, at last, she could suck in a breath, tears were flowing from her eyes.
The pads of his fingers pressed into her flesh, stroking up and down her thigh. “Shit, baby, did I hurt you?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“You’re bleeding.” His gaze flicked up from between her legs.
“I am?”
“Look.”
Twilight casting the room in gloomy shades of gray, Breanna glanced down to where his palm rested on her tummy. Blood stained the fingers that were just inside her. Crimson smeared her thighs and the once pristine sheets beneath her.
Well, hello, Aunt Flo.
“It’s my period, Sinjin.” She swallowed, wiping the wetness from her eyes. “Looks like I’m not pregnant after all.”
“Are you sad?” he asked, brushing the hair back from her face.
Was she?
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Breanna shrugged. “You put the thought in my head and…”
“If you want a baby, we’ll make one, okay?” Rubbing her back, Sinjin pressed his lips to her forehead.
She sniffled. “Maybe someday.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay.” And nodding against his chest, Breanna smiled.
He tipped her chin up, bringing her lips to his. “Come here.”
“I have to take a shower.” She kissed him. “And these sheets need to go in the trash.”
“I said, come here.”
His arms in a vise-like grip around her, Sinjin took her mouth. Stole her breath. And for just a moment, Breanna forgot there was a mess between her legs, that the expensive linens they laid on were ruined, that the seed he planted in her head hadn’t taken root in her belly. She should be relieved, and mostly, she was, so why all the tears?
Teeth skimming down her throat, Sinjin licked the sweat from her neck and between her breasts. He held them in his palms, his tongue slowly snaking on a path toward her tummy.
Her fingers caught in his hair, Breanna pulled. “Sinjin, what are you doing?”
“Loving you,” he murmured into her skin, his lips kissing lower and lower.
“What part of ‘I’ve got my period’ did you not get?”
“Oh, I got it, princess.”
His whiskey eyes burning black, she felt the faint curve of a smirk on her flesh, and undeterred, his wicked tongue laved between her lips.
Holy fuck.
She should be mortified, and she would have been, except his mouth on her bleeding cunt felt glorious. Sinjin devoured her. Lapping up period blood commingled with their cum. Sucking on her clit as he pressed his fingers back inside. Wrung out, Breanna didn’t think she had another orgasm left in her.
She was wrong.
He willed it from her.
Fingers holding onto his sweat-dampened hair, hips coming off the bed, she spasmed. Sinjin growled, but Breanna couldn’t make a sound. Bit by bit, she melted onto the bed, and gasping for breath, inhaled life back into her lungs.
Caressing her quivering flesh, Sinjin kissed his way up her tummy and nuzzled between her breasts. “Did you really think I’d care about a little blood?”
Unable to speak, Breanna rubbed her fingers through his hair.
“It’s a part of you.” He kissed her skin. “And I love all your parts.”
After weeks at Dalton House, she finally left the mountain. In the back of Jordy’s truck, Breanna peered through the window, craning her neck to see up to the top, but clouds obscured her view, so she couldn’t.
“Bet you’re glad to be gettin’ your car back, Miss Dalton.” Bobbing his head, the sheriff grinned a dopey grin in the rearview mirror. “Especially with snowmageddon comin’.”
“Yeah.” She wasn’t, though.
“Francie tells me you’re leaving us in the morning.”
“I’m going to my mom’s for Christmas,” she said, her smile tight, trying to appear somewhat amenable to her impending departure. “Then I have to get back to school in Portland.”
“We’re sure gonna miss you around here.”
“She’ll be back.” Beside her, Sinjin squeezed her hand. “Won’t you, princess?”
As fast as I possibly can.
And if another damn atmospheric river messed up her New Year’s Eve plans, she’d return once she was settled in the routine of a new semester—the last one. Breanna had an editing practicum to complete this coming term, and she already had a project in mind—her father’s novel.
“Of course I will.”
They drove past the original house George Dalton built, and then around the curve, the sleepy little hamlet came into view. Quaint, it was even prettier in the daylight. Aged brick. Wrought iron. Shops adorned with twinkling Christmas lights. Breanna was certain she’d come to love it here. Sacramento wasn’t all that far away, and San Francisco was just a couple of hours beyond that, for when she had a craving for someplace bigger.
They pulled in at the garage. Turning his face toward hers, Sinjin kissed her cheek. “Wait in here with Jordy while I get the car.”
He was out the door, sprinting over to see the mechanic before she could blink an eye.
Glancing her way, the portly sheriff inclined his head. “As long as it’s just the two of us here, I, umm…I want to tell you I’m sorry for misleading you back at the cabin.”
“You lied to me, Jordy.” She couldn’t be mad at him for it, though. With a shake of her head, Breanna smiled. “Thought I might’ve lost my mind there for a while.”
“On account of Derek, Ian thought it best. He was so concerned about you.” Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he nodded. “And I agreed with him. That boy ain’t been right in the head since his father died. I don’t wanna see you go, but I’m glad you won’t be anywhere near here when he finds out he’s been bested.”
“What about Sinjin?”
Breanna worried because he’d have no choice but to deal with the fallout of his cousin’s wrath. And as much as she cringed at the prospect of ever seeing Derek again, Sinjin shouldn’t have to do that on his own. She was perfectly capable, ready, and willing to stand at his side.
“Ian knows how to handle Derek,” Jordy assured her, patting her hand. “You’d never know it now, but those two were closer than brothers as kids. Where one went, the other was always sure to follow.”
She wasn’t convinced. Her teeth sinking into her lip, Breanna glanced at the garage office. With her car keys in his hand, Sinjin waved from the doorway.
“I don’t think I’ll get to see you again before you go.” The sheriff leaned in for a hug. “You take care now, Miss Breanna.”
“I will, Jordy,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
He glanced out the window. “He loves you, you know.”
Sinjin opened the passenger door. “Ready, princess?”
Stepping out of the truck, Breanna looked back at Jordy. “I know.”
“Safe travels, dear.”
“Thanks again, Jordy.” Smiling, she gave him a little wave. “For everything.”
Sinjin kissed her crown and, holding her to his side, they went over to her car. “See? Good as new.”
“God, I love this car.” Her fingertips skimming the polished white hood, Breanna caressed it. She’d worked so hard, saved every penny, just to get it.
Little did I know, I didn’t have to.
But by withholding the privilege her father had left for her, Grandmama taught her a valuable lesson she might never have learned otherwise. Wise woman. She appreciated that car because she’d earned it.
“Even so, you’re trading it in.” Sinjin opened the passenger door for her. “I can’t have you sliding off the goddamn mountain.”
“Or smashing into it?” Arching her brow, Breanna smirked and got in.
“Or that.” He chuckled, buckling her into her seatbelt. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
“Can we stop at the drugstore first?” Scrunching her shoulders, she pursed her lips to the side. “I need to pick up some things.”
Tampons, specifically. She only kept a couple in her purse.
“Of course we can.” He closed her door and came around to the driver’s side. “How about we take a walk down Main Street? I’ll show you around a bit and we can grab a bite to eat.”
“Yeah, okay.” Breanna giggled, watching Sinjin trying to adjust his seat in her little, girly car. “I’d like that.”
She studied the details of the old buildings as they walked past, noting the year of construction embedded into the wall. 1887. 1921. “This is so cool.”
“Datestones. They used to do that back in the day,” Sinjin explained, coming to a stop in front of the drugstore. “The Daltons and St. Johns pretty much built this town together. Our families were never divided—at least not until Sharon died.”
“But that’s in the past now, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, princess.” He kissed her brow. “We made sure of that.”
Sinjin opened the door for her, escorting her inside. Scoffing at the Plan B pills she hadn’t needed sitting on a shelf next to bottles of KY Jelly, Breanna proceeded down the aisle and dropped a box of tampons—super absorbency because Aunt Flo’s a goddamn bitch—into the red plastic shopping basket. At the checkout, she threw in a big bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. Raising his brow, Sinjin smirked, so she added a tube of Burt’s Bees coconut lip balm for good measure.
“Got everything you need, princess?” With a chuckle, he handed his card over to the cashier.
As long as I’ve got you. She nodded.
Out on the sidewalk, Sinjin asked, “Hungry?”
“Aren’t I always?” Besides, Aunt Flo turned her into a ravenous beast.
“Come on.” He chuckled. “I better feed you, then.”
After scarfing down a burger at the same bar she’d seen the old men walk into the night she came here, they headed back up the mountain. With Sinjin driving, she could take in the village as it disappeared behind them, the hairpin curves of the pass, the harrowing drop-offs into nothing. Jesus. She swallowed. Her heart was in her throat even now. This road with her name on it had claimed two lives that she knew of already. Breanna squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of it taking another.
As if reading her thoughts, Sinjin reached across the console, and taking her hand, he held it on his thigh. “You’ll get used to it, and soon, driving the pass will seem as natural to you as breathing.”
Somehow, she didn’t think so.
He parked the Miata beneath the shelter of the porte-cochère. She went to gather her things, grabbing her shopping bag from the floorboard and the charger she’d left behind the night of the storm. Breanna heard the ping from his phone but didn’t give any thought to it.
Sinjin read the text, pocketed his phone, and glanced over at her.
“He knows.”