Roxanne’s mouth opens and then shuts as she processes the oh-so-tragic information. Apparently, her Southern charm hasn’t armored her enough for this level of darkness. When she tries again, she says, “Well, darling, if you need someone to walk you down the aisle…”
“Braxton will do that.” Cora smiles graciously. She’s far more talented at handling sympathy than I am. “He’s always picked up the parental slack, so to speak…”
This conversation is hitting too close to home, and I stand abruptly. “Does anyone need a refill?”
Colburn shakes his bottle. “I’m empty.”
“Me too,” Lena chimes in.
I snag the empties and head to the house. Conversation continues in a muted murmur the further I get. The temperature drops rapidly once I step away from the open fire, but I welcome the fall chill. I’ve broken a sweat on the back of my neck. The porch lights are on, and I follow them inside.
I dump the empty bottles in the recycling bin and pluck two fresh bottles from the refrigerator. As I hunt around for a bottle opener, I hear the sliding porch doors hiss open and shut. Bare feet pad into the kitchen, followed by the familiar smell of lavender perfume. Out of the corner of my eye, Susie’s form melds with the kitchen counter.
“Rough crowd,” she says. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be better when I get these bottles opened…how do they find anything in this house?” The countertop is littered with recipes cut out from magazines and cookbooks, and the drawer organization only makes a modicum of sense.
As I rummage through what I assume is the third junk drawer, I feel Susie’s hands on my back. She’s kneading her fingers into my shoulders like a cat. “You’re tense,” she says. “Relax. I can help you work out some kinks…or work them in…”
Finally, I shut the drawer, face her head-on, and cross my arms. “Are you drunk?”
Her mouth falls open. “What? No!” Her eyes look clear, and she isn’t slurring her words, but that still doesn’t explain her bizarre behavior. Susie presses her lips together, leans in, and drops her voice to a whisper as she explains, “I’m flirting.”
“Don’t do that.”
The long eyelashes flutter when she blinks. “Why not?”
“If you want me, tell me.”
Those luscious lips part, and she looks to be hunting for the words, and then she comes out with, in almost a sigh, “I want you.”
“Tough.”
Now she looks truly confused. “What?”
“I think you’ve forgotten who’s in control here.”
There’s an itch under my skin—it’s been brewing since the bonfire, brewing since we landed in South Carolina. Brewing all my life, maybe, but when I sink my fingers into Susie’s hair and make her gasp, the clouds part and for a second my itch is satisfied. Her eyes go all doe-like, big, round, and innocent. It makes me rock hard and weak-kneed. She doesn’t yank out of my rough grip on her hair; instead, she leans back into it.
“Is that what you want?” she asks, her voice a breathy whisper. “Control?”
There’s nothing but glass doors between us and the wedding party. I guide Susie against the counter and pin her there, blocking her from view with my body.
I lean in and murmur into her ear. “I want you, wet and desperate. Take off your panties. Now.”
I watch her. The dim light brings out the green in her irises, and they shimmer like emeralds. Her gaze never leaves my own as she arches over. She reaches under her dress, and the fabric hisses as she rolls her panties off one leg, then the other. She holds them up to me, and I take them. The fabric is soft pink, cotton, and I can feel a small damp circle in the center.
“Turn around,” I order. “Put your hands behind your back.”
She turns her back to me and does as I ask. I loop her wrists through the leg holes of her panties and tie them tightly so they’re secure. I take Susie by the hips and spin her around so she’s facing me now. Her eyes are already half-lidded, and she’s biting back an anticipatory grin.
Nothing makes my blood run hotter than that little smile on her face. I need to kiss it, so I do. Her mouth is warm, plump, ready, and her lips part easily to give me a taste.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her, barely breaking the kiss.
Susie plants her feet further apart. The fabric of her dress gathers around my wrist as I reach between her legs and pet her sex. She gasps the second I touch her and spreads herself a little more, wanting.
“You’re soaking, Susie.” I glide my fingers between her nether lips and feel her molten heat. She’s slick and drenches my fingers immediately.
“You have that effect on me,” she moans.
“Show me what else I do to you.” I draw my fingers up until I find that sweet, swollen button. She whimpers and jerks. Her shoulders stiffen, and I can tell she’s trying to move her arms, but her wrists are stuck behind her back. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her supple skin peeking out from underneath her blouse.
She’s come undone for me, and I love every second of it.
I manipulate her lust under my fingers, pushing around her wetness, lubricating my fingers on her desire. I plunge one long finger inside of her, then another. She bites her bottom lip hard enough to dent the skin to keep herself from crying out.
She’s so soft, so pure, and I battle between the desire to blemish her throat with bite marks or worship her body with kisses. I find myself leaning over her, breath short, clutching the counter for leverage as I thrust my fingers deep up inside of her and curl them slightly. I’m insatiable, thirsty for her pleasure.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, and it sends a shiver through me. I stroke her inner walls, that little spot that made her gasp, and soon she tightens around my fingers. She’s hitting her brink—I feel it as strongly as if I were hitting my own—and I push her closer to the edge. I roll my thumb over that sensitive little bud of hers, circling it.
She nearly slips out of my grasp at that. Her knees buckle and she falls forward against me. I grip her hair and hold her tightly as I pump my fingers inside of her, working her to that delicious precipice.
“Braxton…” She begs my name, and that sound alone might make me lose it.
“Let go,” I growl into her ear. “Now.”
I feel her teeth on my shoulder, her breath wetting my shirt, and she muffles her moans against me. Her body squeezes my fingers with an onslaught of throbbing pulses. She squirms against me as I draw her orgasm out, playing it under the slightest caress of my fingertips. When she shudders, I know she’s had enough, so I cease my ministrations and remove my fingers to give her a chance to catch her breath.
“Holy hell,” she gasps. And then, more urgently, “Holy hell.” Susie rights herself and twists around. “Untie me, quickly, before someone sees us.”
A grin twitches at the corner of my mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”
I help her out of her temporary bond and hand her panties back to her. “You know, we’re going to have to stop meeting like this,” Susie says as she bends down and pulls her underwear back up her hips. “I might start thinking that you like me.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” I say.