Summer Sins Page 3

  Storme was left alone.

  Perfect.

  She walked over to the blonde and said a few words then headed back my way, lurching just a bit, which told me she was definitely tipsy. I frowned at the idea of her walking alone down the pathways at this hour, even though it was brightly lit. The walk was long, and I kept my distance until I wound my way up a hill and spotted the mansion looming above the sand dunes. Damn, her family was super rich, even more so than Brian's. I had planned to extend our little bantering session, but now I just wanted to make sure she got to her door safely. At least I knew where she lived now. She paused at the stairs to her house and slowly turned.

  "Why are you following me, motorcycle man?"

  I stopped short. Son of a bitch. How had she seen me when I'd hung way back in the shadows? So much for any career in investigations. I stepped ahead into the moonlight. I didn't want her to think I was a crazy stalker.

  I put up my hands so she didn't freak out. "Just wanted to make sure you got home safe. There are a lot of crazies out there."

  She gave a throaty little laugh, and I was hard as a rock again. Great. She'd donned her cover-up, but the fabric had slid so one shoulder peeked out. Her hair had dried and curled in wild waves, tumbling down her back. "Been walking this route for years without a hitch. I knew you were behind me the whole time." She lifted a small, metal object that glinted under the porch light. "I always carry a panic button, just in case. But thanks for the protection."

  I waited for her to turn her back and leave my ass in the dark, but she didn't move. I decided to play a bit more. "Welcome. Do I get a reward for trying to keep you safe?"

  She snorted. Why did it sound elegant? "Does playing the protector usually work to get you into a girl's pants?"

  I grinned and rocked back on my heels. "No. But it usually gets me through the front door."

  She shook her head, but the smile curving her lips told me she had a good sense of humor. "Not this time."

  "I'll settle for a thank-you kiss."

  She stilled. The air charged and became heavy. For the first time, she looked hesitant, curling her fingers into loose fists and glancing at her front porch like it held the safety she needed. Hmm, interesting. She wasn't as much of an expert in this mating game as she let on. For some reason, that fact only turned me on more. That tiny glimpse of vulnerability drew me closer. I took a step forward.

  And got immediately cock-blocked.

  Her hands shot out in front of her to ward me off. "You think I'd make it that easy?" she asked. "Where do you hail from, anyway?"

  "Born in Texas, moved to New York in my early teens."

  One arched brow shot up. "Started off as a southern gentleman, huh? Then you should be trained to accept a lady's thank-you and be on your way."

  I inched forward. "I used to be. But New York taught me if you don't go after what you want, you get stepped on."

  She sucked in a breath. I couldn't help but stare as her perfectly formed breasts rose, the shadow of her nipples outlining the thin fabric. My big head swelled along with my little head. Still, she fought back. "And I'm a New Yorker, born and bred. We're taught to recognize bullshit from birth."

  I laughed. Damn, she was hot. And spunky. I was dying to capture that smart mouth and quiet it in all sorts of fun ways. When was the last time a woman had the guts to challenge me? Never. I almost hoped she never backed down. I knew if I could get close enough, I'd have a chance. Because I planned to steal a kiss tonight. One hot, lustful kiss to keep my hunger banked until I got her between the sheets. I eased closer. "See, we have a problem here, sugar. I want to taste you real bad. So bad, I'm willing to take a few chances to see if the heat between us is real."

  She blinked. Wariness swirled in those cave-dark depths, along with a gleam of hunger she couldn't hide. Oh, yeah, she wanted me just as bad, but if I made the wrong move, I'd lose her. She'd run like a fawn and hide behind that million-dollar door.

  Not gonna happen.

  She shifted her weight but didn't move. Just swayed slightly and kept her gaze pinned on mine. I offered an innocent smile and moved steadily forward. The only way for her to retreat was to climb up the steps. The porch light bathed her figure in a golden glow.

  "I think you made a mistake," she said softly. An odd look skittered across her face. Guilt? Fear? "You need to find another girl to play your summer games with. Things are complicated with me."

  Closer. So close I caught her scent, a delicious mix of salt, beach, and musk. I wanted to dive deep and bathe in her essence. "Things are complicated only if you think too much," I said. "See, this thing between us is real simple. We want each other. We'll give each other pleasure, seize the moment, and drink it down whole. Aren't you damn tired of measuring every move all the time? Analyzing and thinking and wishing?" Another precious inch. Yes, right there. Her lips were so red and moist, and her dark eyes looked hazy with lust. She trembled very slightly, and I kept my voice soothing, as if she was a skittish mare I needed to rein in. Everything about her presence spoke to me, made my body throb with an aching want I'd never experienced. I had to find out why this woman was tearing me up and get her out of my system. "Aren't you tired of being told right or wrong, or good or bad? Let's just do what feels good. Let me kiss you once. Taste you. Pleasure you." I lowered my head so my breath rushed over her mouth. Her pupils dilated, and she gave a little moan low in her throat that I wanted to swallow. I didn't touch her, knowing that would break the spell. "Just. One. Kiss."

  I fused my mouth with hers.

  My head exploded with the scent and taste of her. Just using my lips, I kept the contact gentle, easing back and forth, pressing slightly until she leaned in, wanting more. I teased the line of her lips with the tip of my tongue, and then she opened wide and I dove deep, deep inside.

  Oh, fuck.

  So good. I felt like my gut got sucker punched as the sweet essence of her exploded on my tongue and twisted my body into knots. It was as if I had been waiting my whole life to kiss this woman, my tongue tangling with hers, sweeping into every slick, satiny corner and learning her secrets.

  She dropped her bag and slid her arms around my neck. I pulled back, re-slanted my mouth, then kissed her harder, longer, deeper; my hands cupping her ass and pulling her tight against me in a crazed effort for more. She went wild in my arms, tugging at my hair, biting my lower lip, arching her hips, letting her body surrender to mine with a wild, primitive sexual need.

  I would've dragged her to the ground and fucked her like an animal right there. I was drunk on her, and my hands stroked up her back, my hard cock pressed into the notch of her thighs as we kissed hungrily, greedy for more, always more. I slipped my hand beneath her cover-up and the plumpness of her breast filled my palm. Groaning in need, I stroked her hard nipple, flicked it with my thumb, and she writhed against me, gasping for more. I cursed viciously and reached up to yank her top down, desperate to see all of her.

  And then, suddenly, she was gone.

  She jerked out of my arms, stumbling back, her palm pressed flat over her lips in what looked like horror. A dozen emotions skated over her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth slightly swollen from the fierceness of our kiss.

  "Storme?"

  "I can't do this! Damn you. I told you I don't want to play your games!"

  Stunned at her reaction, I opened my mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but she fled up the steps then slammed the door behind her. I was left alone on the walkway, in silence, in the night.

  WTF?

  I waited there a while. Wondered if I should knock on the door or try to talk to her, but I doubted she'd answer. What had gone wrong? Too much, too fast? And why did she look so guilty simply because we'd given in to the heat between us?

  I headed back toward the beach, my mind spinning with questions. Questions I intended to get answers to. Because I wasn't done with Storme Sullivan.

  Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Five

&
nbsp; STORME

  I BLINKED IN THE STREAMING MORNING SUNLIGHT, and one thought slammed into my brain like a freight train.

  I'd kissed another man.

  I groaned and rolled over in my bed. My insides hurt with guilt and shame. Why had I betrayed my fiance? What was wrong with me? One night on my own, under a star-studded sky with a gorgeous guy, and I'd caved.

  I had to tell Phillip.

  I reached out from under the covers and grabbed my iPhone. What would I say? I got drunk. I was weak and silly, and it meant nothing. I'd beg for his forgiveness.

  But the worst part of my confession was unspoken.

  I had liked it.

  No.

  I had loved it.

  I buried my face in my pillow with despair. I'd never experienced a kiss even close to what Holden showed me last night. The raw lust combined with need. The way my body exploded beneath his hands, softening and molding against him. The sheer electricity tingling my skin and the aching hunger for more. I'd lost myself within his kiss, and I doubted I'd ever find myself again. His scent and taste and feel would be imprinted on my soul for the rest of my life.

  Dramatic? Yes. God, yes. But true. And again the unease hit me, the knowledge I didn't feel that way about the man I'd be spending the rest of my life with. So, if I confessed, how would I go about explaining why I couldn't stop myself?

  My thoughts spun. There were so many reasons I'd decided to marry Phillip. We were best friends, had grown up together, and he knew me like no other. He always supported my dream to go to FIT, even though he knew my parents were against it. Our families worked together and desperately needed the merger to go through, or Phillip's vineyard would go bankrupt. Mom had already told me they wouldn't think of the merger unless Phillip became family. In a way, it had just seemed...easy. My future, planned and secured, with everyone happy.

  But was I really happy?

  Holden made my body experience things I'd never felt with Phillip. He'd hypnotized me until I decided to prove to myself the kiss he offered could never live up to the fantasy.

  Unfortunately, it had been better than any fantasy I'd dreamed up in the few days and nights since we'd first met.

  Of course, maybe it was just that initial attraction thing. The thrill of the forbidden. Maybe I was freaking because I knew my marriage with Phillip would never be based on attraction, or lust, or anything physical, and Holden tempted me with everything I didn't have with my fiance.

  I blinked away the sting of tears, angry at my self-pity and confusion. Phillip offered me the real stuff, not fake. Passion faded. Friendship and loyalty and trust were a better foundation for marriage. I had to move on. Forget Holden and the attraction between us. I'd avoid him this summer, build up my defenses, and do the only thing that was right.

  Marry Phillip.

  My phone rang shrilly, and I jumped. The familiar number proved Fate was testing me, so I dragged in a deep breath and took the call. "Hi, Phillip."

  "Hey. How are you, sweets? Did all the girls arrive safely?"

  His endearment had started when we were ten years old and was as comforting as a worn, fuzzy blanket. The guilt nipped harder. "Yes, they got here a few nights ago."

  "Great. Girls gone wild, summer edition, huh?" His obvious teasing hurt even more. Phillip would never think I'd betray him.

  I cleared my throat and decided my punishment would be the awful pain of my lie. "Yep, that's us." I desperately needed to change the subject. "What are you up to in California?"

  "Your parents and I met with a great distributor out here, and we're going to partner with some networking. He's really amazing. Has a knack for blending I've never seen before. Hoping he'll take me under his tutelage so I can learn all the tricks."

  Phillip lived and breathed the vineyards. Though his family's heritage was in Long Island, he'd been talking about getting out to Napa Valley for a while. "I'm glad you're happy."

  "Yeah, I wish you could have stayed in California longer, but I think a little downtime with Kelsey and Leigh is good for you. What's the next step for the wedding?" he asked. "Anything I need to help with?"

  I fought back the sickness and swore again to be good. "Just the final bridal fitting, and odds and ends. Nothing you need to worry about."

  "Are you okay? You sound funny. Almost sad."

  I bit my lip really hard. "No, I'm good. I just--I just miss you."

  "Miss you, too. Soon, your summer of freedom will end, and you'll be stuck with me forever."

  The words squeezed my heart. I did miss Phillip. But not the way I've heard someone should miss their fiance. I missed him as my comfort. My best friend and support system. My hang-out buddy.

  The image of Holden kissing me flashed in my head. Was that what real passion felt like? Why did I feel such passion with a virtual stranger and not my fiance? "What exactly do you miss about me?" I asked bravely. Maybe some sexy talk would help.

  "Your omelettes. No one cooks breakfast like you."

  "How about my body?" I ventured. I fought back the embarrassment. Maybe Phillip and I needed to get more intimate.

  "Your body?" He laughed. "Well, sure. Your smile, of course. Storme, what's going on? You're acting really weird."

  I dumped the idea of sex talk or even flirting and decided I needed to get my shit together. "Nothing. Sorry. I gotta go, I'll check in with you later. Tell Mom and Dad everything is fine."

  "Okay, have fun. Love you."

  "Love you, too."

  I clicked off. Stared at the pale yellow wall. Why did I suddenly feel so unsatisfied? Maybe my body was going through a hormonal phase, and I'd been taken off-guard. Or it was pre-wedding jitters. Yes, that must be it. The moonlight, the bonfire, a sexy, assertive guy. Probably the next time I saw Holden, I wouldn't experience such chemistry. He only offered a temporary high--like a delicious chocolate brownie. Eventually, I'd get a sugar crash and wonder why I hadn't chosen the healthy, whole grain granola bar instead.

  With analogies of food dancing in my brain, I got out of bed and decided to cook breakfast.

  ***

  After a leisurely morning with my friends, we all went our separate ways and decided to meet for cocktails later that night. I headed into town to browse the shops and pick up some new fabric for an outfit I wanted to work on. Sewing calmed my brain and made me happy. It was my calm during periods of stress. My parents always tried to get me to divert all my attention into the vineyard, but as much as I appreciated my lifestyle and the family business, something fell flat. It wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Still, no one promised me fairness in the world, and I knew I had certain responsibilities. Marrying Phillip was the first step. Then Drink It In Style Vineyards would merge with Phillip's smaller place, and we'd own a powerful business that had the potential to be huge.

  Who would've thought arranged marriages still went on in America? Of course, if Phillip and I didn't get along, the whole matter would've been dropped. Everyone said it was fate that we fell in love on our own.

  I stopped at a trendy boutique and purchased a gorgeous royal blue pattern and some silver buttons. Maybe I'd create a fun, fringe skirt with touches of silver. The design burst into my head, and my fingers itched to make the sketch.

  I hurried out of the store then grabbed an outside table at one of the cafes. Grabbing my sketchbook from my oversized bag I always carried with me, I drank an iced mocha in the hot sun and let my mind go wild.

  "Designing clothes for your Barbie dolls, sugar?"

  My head jerked. I blinked in the dazzling sun, and was even more dazzled by the lazy grin on one of the hottest men I'd ever met. I stared at him like an idiot for a second, taking in those tanned, strong legs, rock-hard biceps, and obvious washboard stomach. He was dressed in ragged cutoffs, flip-flops, and a faded T-shirt. The Mets baseball hat was perched sideways on his head, and pieces of jet-black hair stuck out from the sides. He hadn't shaved, and rough stubble covered his jaw. His lips were full, and the memory of them covering
mine made my libido go from zero to sixty in seconds.

  Finally, his insult melted the hormones and cut through my brain cells. I scowled and relished his rudeness. The more horrible he was to me, the more I could fight the attraction. "Good thing you're no Ken," I replied with fake sweetness.

  He laughed, grabbed the opposite chair, and flagged down the waiter. "Espresso, please."

  "What are you doing?"

  Emerald-green eyes widened in surprise. "Ordering coffee."

  I pointed to the other empty chairs and tables around me. "Plenty of room away from my table."

  "No, thanks. I wanted to see you, anyway. Why are you drawing clothes?"

  I let out an annoyed breath. "Not that it's any of your business, but I like to sketch fashion designs."

  "You make the clothes, too?" he asked, craning his neck to study the dress I'd been drawing.

  I slapped both hands over it. My drawings were personal, and I rarely shared them with anyone. "Yes."

  "So, you're telling me you actually sew stuff rather than buy from those designer places? Isn't that too much labor for you?"

  I glowered at him. How could someone so attractive be so horrible on the inside? "Maybe if you worked a day in your life rather than grubbing from your friends, you'd see the value of hard work," I pointed out. "What do you do for a living?"

  He stretched out in his seat, adjusted his hat, and grinned. "I'm a student of life."

  I rolled my eyes as the waiter put down his espresso. "You're a bum." The waiter raised his brow and scurried away, probably not wanting to get caught in the cross-fire.

  "Not all our parents can be rich."

  "This is America. Haven't you heard you can achieve anything with a little hard work and determination?"

  "Easier said with a fat college trust fund, huh, sugar?" He sipped his espresso, seemingly delighted by my annoyance. "Why'd you run off last night?"

  Oh, God. I'd been hoping he'd just forget the whole damn thing, but it seemed he didn't care enough to be polite. "Cause I didn't want it to go any further."

  "Liar."

  "You're an asshole."

  "So I've been told. You chickened out. What's the matter? So used to teasing you panicked when you actually wanted to follow through?"