Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (23 page)

She glanced over her shoulder and found him right there. He kissed her. And by the time he’d used that mouth on her for twenty seconds, she was ready for anything he was willing to give her, so she curled her fingers around the wood.

He stroked the backs of her thighs and lifted his weight off her, but stayed right there. “Pull your knees under you. Now spread your legs.”

The orders did strange things to her nerves. The position both thrilled and unnerved. Cool air touched her wet sex, shooting tingles over her swollen, sensitive skin. Then Ethan’s fingers were there, stroking, and Delaney sighed, closed her eyes, and dropped her head forward against his comforter. He slid one finger deep, then two. Delaney arched her back, lifting her ass, and hummed a plea for more.

Then the smooth, wide head of his cock spread her in a new way. Pushing, stretching, taking her breath as Ethan plunged, then pulled back. He breeched her over and over until she coated him.

“Mmm, you’re all tight and juicy for me.” His chest pressed her back, and his teeth grazed her ear. “You make me so hard.”

He gripped her hips and pulled her back to meet his shallow thrusts, driving a little deeper, a little deeper, a little deeper. Delaney’s throat thickened with the thrill of his tight fit, the new stretch, the fresh friction.

She didn’t understand how it could just keep getting better. And when she picked up the rhythm, driving her pelvis back and into him, Ethan eased off the thrusts, letting Delaney set the pace while his hands roamed. One hand moved around to her mound, creating a pillowlike pressure for her clit. The other cupped her breast, his fingers fanning over her nipple.

“You feel like heaven.” His rough voice whispered down her neck, his tongue followed, then his teeth, all while his hands stimulated her hot spots and his cock tapped that place inside her that made her wild.

“Jesus . . . ,” she breathed, unable to believe what he could make her body do.

“Punch it, baby.” The arm around her hips gave a tug, drawing her into his cock harder, and her pleasure multiplied.

“Holy shit . . .”

“Hard and fast,” he coached at her ear, pumping his hips to her rhythm. “The harder, the faster, the better.”

He was right. And the harder and faster she pumped, the harder and faster he thrust.

The orgasm came roaring at her, a huge wave of pleasure rising slow, thick, and hot. The wave rolled and gathered momentum and force but didn’t break, leaving Delaney suspended in an excruciating kind of pleasure that immobilized her body and shut down her mind.

Ethan took over, digging his fingers into her hips and hauling her back against him. Delaney’s hair fell over her face. Her mouth dropped open, but her breath had caught and sounds ebbed only when Ethan pounded them out of her.

His sweaty hands slipped, and he lost his grip.

“Oh, God.” She dropped her head forward, gritted her teeth, and dug her nails into the footboard as he repositioned his hands. Her entire body filled and swirled with sensation. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t sto—”

He found his grip and thrust again.

Everything coalesced, and the orgasm came to a swift sharp peak. A cry rose from her throat only to be cut off by convulsions of intense, decadent pleasure sweeping through her body. Her mind blanked to everything but the ecstasy.

Ethan’s grip relaxed. He curled around her, his cheek pressed to her back, his hands stroking her hips where his fingers had been digging in. “You’re amazing,” he murmured between quick breaths, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Everything . . . a man could . . . ever want.”

Delaney’s sluggish mind registered a blip, but that was all she could manage. And while she lay there with Ethan wrapped around her, still filling her, a yearning she’d never experienced swamped her. The yearning to be loved this completely—not just sexually, but emotionally, mentally, and physically. To be unconditionally loved to the all-encompassing degree their sex had reached.

And even as the thought formed, Delaney acknowledged the futility of such a desire. She may as well wish for a unicorn. A sharp stab of pain cut through her stomach. The emotional euphoria was long gone, but her body was still drifting down from the clouds. Only now she felt a new hollow spot at the center of her chest.

She lifted her head and slowly sat up, still panting, covered in sweat and dizzy. Ethan moved with her, equally sweaty and out of breath, but Delaney quickly realized once she’d straightened, he was still hard.

“Holy shit.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you—”

“Yep.” His grin was ridiculously bright and proud. “I can officially say it takes me about sixty seconds to get hard enough for a second round. At least with you.”

Delaney’s laughter made her fall forward, but Ethan had a firm hold on her, allowing her to relax into his arms. “I suppose you’d like to use that little gem.”

His head came up, and he narrowed his eyes. “Little?”

She started laughing again. “Stop. I’m already having enough trouble breathing.”

His teeth closed on the skin of her neck with a growl as he pushed up on his knees, lifting his hips into hers. “Let’s give you a damn good reason for that.”

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice weak. “Ethan, no. I can’t come again. Take care of yourself this round.”

“I’m taking care of you tonight, remember?” he murmured in her ear, pulling her upright and fully onto his cock. He slid so deep, she pulled in a small gasp of discomfort. The kind of discomfort that pleased as much as it hurt. “Feel that? You’re so relaxed and so wet, it’s going to be even better this time.”

She turned her head, lips parted to argue exhaustion, but he kissed her quiet. “I’ve got you. Just move with me. I’ll do all the work.”

Then he lifted again, using his quads to push and his gluts to thrust. She was so wet, he slid easily, and the slick glide was a luscious turn-on. He started slow, his movements sensual, his hips undulating smoothly, creating a consistent, easy glide of his cock inside her. And while his lips, tongue, and teeth moved over the skin of her neck and shoulders, his hands teased her breasts, her inner thighs, her lower belly. He cupped her ass and drew her cheeks apart, allowing him to penetrate so deep, Delaney’s throat closed. Then he pressed her cheeks together, making him feel even bigger than he already was.

And true to his word, Ethan did all the work. When Delaney’s thighs shook from exhaustion, he took over and used her weight to deepen penetration, which, Delaney discovered, was where her most intense orgasms originated. And Ethan knew all the tricks to reach her deepest places.

“Arch your back,” he murmured in her ear. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

The position changed the spot where his cock hit on every stroke.

“God . . .”
She drew out the word on a low groan.

“Perfect.” His husky voice was edged with well-deserved male ego, and his thrusts grew longer, slower, deeper. And harder.

Delaney closed her fingers around the soft strands of his hair as he so expertly and quickly drove her higher. She shivered hard, and Ethan slowed his rhythm, slowing her climb.

“Do you know,” he rasped in her ear, “that the feel of you coming around me is heaven on earth? That I get a goddamned high watching you come apart? That there’s nothing more exciting or more satisfying than hearing you say my name when you come?”

He rocked his hips, moving inside her in a way that made her moan. Lifting one hand to her face, he turned her head toward her shoulder and met her eyes.

“When you think of me at night while you’re falling asleep,” he murmured in that sexy voice, “I want you to remember this as one of the best nights of your life.” He stroked his tongue into her mouth and circled hers. “When you see me in town,” he whispered, “I want to know you’re wet remembering everything I did to you tonight.”

One of his big, warm hands combed into her hair, and his fingers closed around the strands, pulling hard enough to make her gasp. But as the pain ebbed, it seemed to blend with and double her pleasure.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked with a rough, devilish edge. “Because you just gushed all over my cock.”

“No, no, no.” She didn’t care how desperate she sounded. “Don’t stop.” When he drew out again, she was slick, and when he thrust, dual sensations hit—pleasure when his cock hit that mystical spot inside her, and pain when his hand pulled in her hair. The effect was the most intense sensation she’d ever experienced. A wash that spread through her body and made her moan.

“
Fuuuuck
, that’s good.”

He pressed his forehead against her temple, growled deep in his throat, and muttered, “You are one wicked drug.”

His thrusts picked up a purposeful rhythm again, and Delaney filled with anticipation. His long, slow strokes ended with an extra crack of power but quickly ramped up to driving, balls-deep thrusts, and Delaney’s climax broke almost immediately, slamming through her in quivering bursts of ecstasy.

Only this time, Ethan didn’t ease back, didn’t pause. He continued to pound and pound and pound. Delaney covered his arms with hers and held on with an overwhelming sensation that her body was no longer her own but under temporary ownership of a pleasure slave who took his job extremely seriously.

“Mmm, you’re amazing.” He kissed her shoulder, rested his sweaty forehead against her back. His thrusts grew harder. Faster. “Fucking amazing.”

Delaney dropped her head back against his shoulder as the orgasm rose, feeling more like a spectator as she watched the climax hit. In the next instant, Ethan’s broke, creating a flurry of wild, fierce thrusts that shot Delaney into another stratosphere. Her body bucked and twisted with the force of the orgasm. The sounds that escaped her were garbled from a strangled throat and drowned by Ethan’s guttural pleasure.

Both wrung out, they held each other up until the aftershocks subsided. Then Ethan pulled slowly from her body. When Delaney simply curled into a ball on the bed, Ethan wrapped around her. Gathering her close, he pressed the side of his face to her shoulder.

And he sighed.

A completely satisfied, wow-that-was-awesome, I-don’t-want-anything-to-ruin-this-moment, I-wish-I-could-make-time-stop sigh.

She recognized the sound because she felt the same way.

Delaney closed her eyes and dropped a kiss to his forearm.

If this was what it felt like to have someone take care of her, she was going to seriously rethink her fierce need for independence.

TEN

Delaney’s head rested against the high back of the overstuffed chair in Phoebe’s sunroom as she stared blankly out the bank of windows to the big backyard. Her aunt had left the porch door open when she’d left much earlier that morning, and the sound of birdsong and rustling trees floated in on the midday breeze. The sun played chase among the swaying branches and leaves across the old, scarred wooden floorboards.

And even though Delaney had a budget to shore up, a timeline to nail down, and a final decision to make based on the outcome of those tasks, she just kept twirling a strand of hair around and around her finger. Her mind wandered and drifted and swayed along with the shadows on the floor, but Ethan always seemed to be at the center of everything. He’d been in her life only a short time, yet he touched everything that involved her, and everything that involved her touched him.

So strange.

And, God, she was so tired. She might not have slept that night with Ethan, but she had slept last night—if she didn’t count all her tossing and turning over the guilt churning inside her for dodging him over the last twenty-four hours. Either way, she still felt exhausted—mentally, emotionally, and physically.

She sighed, let her hair fall from her finger, and rubbed closed lids. But instead of pulling up the renovation’s financial requirements, her mind strayed back to the sweet way Ethan had held her as they drifted in and out of sleep. The way he’d combed his fingers through her hair. The way he’d draped his heavy thigh over hers and wrapped himself around her, brushing sweet whispers across her skin.
“You’re so beautiful.” “I knew you were special.”
“You amaze me.”

He was the amazing one. She still couldn’t figure out how he’d escaped the narcissism shown by the other males in the Hayes family. That thought led toward memories of the confrontations with Austin and Jack, creating a confusing tangle of emotions on top of all the other confusion in her life.

Delaney opened her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax.

“I was beginning to think you were going to stay in bed all day.”

Phoebe’s voice scared Delaney. She jumped, dumping the catalogs and her project binder on the floor. Papers with her chicken-scratch ideas and the shiny brochures she’d collected scattered.

“Oh, jeez.” Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she pressed her hand over the pain. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Phoebe crouched and collected the papers, and she glanced up at Delaney with an expression that wavered somewhere between concern and suspicion. “Are you sick? Or did Ethan really wear you out that badly the other night?”

Delaney didn’t have the will to argue. She didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes. But she did scowl. “I was thinking.”

“Uh-huh.” With a handful of brochures, Phoebe turned and dropped her knees to the side, sitting on the floor. “Bet you were.”

Delaney set everything in her hands on the coffee table and avoided her aunt’s probing eyes by gazing at the porch. “While I’m here, I was thinking about putting some pretty French doors in this room. And these floors would be gorgeous refinished. If I rent a sander for the bar, I’ll bring it over here and clean these up. It’ll be a quick and easy way to brighten up this beautiful porch. What do you think?”

“I think your evasion skills are as sharp as ever.”

“How do you feel about granite for a kitchen countertop? Or maybe quartz. Quartz has little sparkles. Bet you’d like that. You don’t have much counter space, so it wouldn’t be too expensive.”

“You’ve only got one more day.”

Delaney sighed and glanced down at her flurry of notes. “I know.”

She had a rough idea of the costs, the risks, and the potential outcomes in her head. No amount of looking at numbers was going to make this decision any easier, because her greatest barriers to taking this on were in her heart.

“If I promise to hold back all my sarcasm and smart remarks, will you talk to me about it?” Phoebe asked, her voice filled with sincere concern. “I’ve tried my best to let you handle this your way, in your own time, but I have to tell you, Delaney, I’m going a little insane with the way you’re letting time wind down to the last second.”

Guilt seeped in. She flicked a look at her aunt. “I have an appointment at four.”

“You do?” Her brows fell. “Are you sure? I’ve heard that Ethan is next to impossible to get an appointment with on short notice.”

“It wasn’t short notice. I made the appointment after you explained how Avery, Chloe, and I would be held responsible for the cost of the demolition. I know it seems like I’m in denial, but I don’t want this to explode into an even bigger problem for any of us than it already is. We all have enough challenges in our lives.

“At the same time, I don’t want to throw both money
and
time and effort away. If it’s a loss, I need to face it, suck it up, and move on, or it becomes an even bigger loss than it needs to be.”

Phoebe shook her head, covered one of Delaney’s hands with her own, and squeezed. “You never fail to impress me—you know that?”

“I couldn’t feel any more
un
inspiring if I tried.”

The truth was, the only place she felt inspired or relaxed or truly happy was with Ethan.

And
that
was a problem.

A real problem.

“To face all this while thinking about your sisters and handling angry run-ins with Jack and Austin with grace is truly amazing,” Phoebe said with a shake of her head. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Delaney frowned. “How’d you hear about the run-in with Austin?”

“Gus, the bartender at Patterson’s, is Joe Tilton’s cousin.”

“Who’s Joe Tilton?”

“The husband of one of my renters.”

“Of course, the store.” Delaney tossed her hands in the air. “I swear you could run the CIA out of that place.”

Phoebe grinned. “Maybe I already do.”

Delaney huffed a laugh.

Phoebe piled the papers she’d collected on the coffee table. “I’m sorry this is so hard on you, honey. I like Ethan. I really do. If he was part of almost any other family in town . . .”

“It’s not serious . . .” While her brain told Delaney the words were true, pain cut through her chest. “It’s just . . . you know . . .”

“Sex.”

She shrugged. Nodded.

A moment of silence stretched, as if Phoebe knew it was a lie, too, and was trying to decide whether or not to call her on it.

“Heard he stood up for you in the middle of Main Street during the lunch rush,” she said, taking a sidelong approach. “Against his father no less.”

The memory made Delaney’s mouth lift in a grin. When it was put that way, the act sounded damn near heroic. “He did.”

“I’ve always known he was different than the rest of his family, but that, that really shows who he’s become. I’m proud of him.”

“It felt really good, you know? Made me feel, I don’t know . . . sorta safe in a way, I guess. I haven’t had a guy stand up for me since . . .” Her mind drifted back through the men she’d dated. “Wow . . . I don’t even—”

The memory hit her like a brick to the chest, and she sucked in an audible breath of horror.

Her boyfriend at the time, Christian “Chip” de la Cruz, a decade older than Delaney and an active drug-running gang member, had been the crème de la crème when it came to pissing off her father. Not that he’d cared that night—he’d been passed out behind the bar when Chip and his buddies rolled in. Delaney could still picture herself stepping over her dad to pull taps of beer.

She’d been seventeen, working a packed house alone. If she’d been caught, the bar would have been shut down. But if she hadn’t served, they would have lost customers, and the bar would have shut down anyway. Ian and his crew had shown up, high, drunk, belligerent, and handsy as hell.

Ian had stepped out of line once too often, and Chip had to step between Ian and Delaney one too many times . . .

“Since Chip?” Phoebe asked gently.

She released all her air and covered her eyes. “This whole situation is so wrong in so many ways. I swear, if I didn’t need the money I’ve saved, I would just demolish that place and never look back.”

“Delaney.” Phoebe’s warm hand covered hers. “Let it go. You can’t change the past. You can’t control other people’s actions. You were taking care of your family then, just like you’re taking care of your family now. That’s what families do.”

“And that’s exactly what Ethan’s trying to do,” she said, pleading with Phoebe to crush her fears. “And what if this time, while I’m trying to help
my
family, I hurt Ethan? What if I hurt Ethan’s family? Is it okay to hurt another family just to save my own?”

“You can
not
control Ethan. You can
not
control what he does or doesn’t do, how he does or doesn’t feel, what decisions he does or doesn’t make. Everything we do every day affects other people. What if I get in the car and I swerve to avoid a pedestrian, and end up hitting another car and killing the driver? What if there’s an earthquake and my store collapses and kills a dozen people?

“If you lived in fear of affecting other people’s lives, you’d never
live
. We’re human. That’s what we do—interact with other humans.”

“An accident is an accident,” Delaney said, shaken by the memory of Ian’s death, so fresh and vivid. “But moving forward knowing you’re going to hurt someone else—”

“Do you
know
? Do you
know for a fact
that renovating that bar is going to hurt Ethan?”

Delaney opened her mouth to say yes, but Phoebe cut her off. “What if this gets his family talking and brings them closer? What if this is the last straw that allows Ethan to break free of a family that’s holding him back? There are a lot of possible outcomes in this for Ethan and his family. But all you can control is what
you
do and why you do it.

“As for you and Ethan—I love the idea in theory. Whether or not it would work out in reality . . . That’s a real stretch, littered with real problems. But I hope he gives you a taste of how it feels to be with a good man. And I hope that makes you realize that you really do deserve that blessing in your life.”

She may deserve that kind of man in her life, but a guy like that deserved more than Delaney could or would give back. Which got her to thinking about what lay down the road for her. The thought of going back to hookups now was a lot like the thought of going back to drinking cheap wine after tasting straight shots of fine whiskey.

How would she ever feel satisfied again?

“I have some good news that might perk you up.” Phoebe tapped Delaney’s hand gently, pressed her back against the nearest wall, pulled her knees into her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. When Delaney met Phoebe’s gaze, her aunt said, “Avery called.”

Excitement sparked in Delaney’s heart. “She did? Is she okay?”

“She’s . . . struggling, but she’s working her way through. She said she called your cell a couple times but you didn’t answer.” Phoebe got that sly little smile. “Guess you were busy.”

Delaney sat up, searching for her phone. “She did?”

“Relax. I told her I’d let you know she called. She’s been fighting a bad case of bronchitis, which has hurt her business. She’s stressed because she lost a few clients, and the divorce will be final any day.”

Delaney’s excitement fizzled in the face of all Avery’s troubles. “Are they really giving up?”

“David is. And one person can’t make a marriage work alone.” The sparkle that always lived in Phoebe’s eyes dulled. “I think he just went through too much on his tours overseas, you know? I think he still cares about Avery, but he just doesn’t know how to relate to her. They were kids when they married, and really grew up apart—him in a war zone, her fending for herself with no family, no friends, no husband. And, honestly, no real skills to live out there alone.”

God, that hurt to hear. Delaney might be only two years older than Avery, but when their mother disappeared, she’d taken over that role for her sisters the best she could. And with it came the burden of guilt. A burden she’d only discovered in hindsight. And one that felt especially heavy when she’d realized too late that when she’d left town after Ian’s death, she’d followed directly in their mother’s footsteps. Something she didn’t ever expect either of her sisters to forgive or forget. But it was a rift she hoped they could mend over time.

“But her business, you told me she was getting pretty busy. That all the markets and delis where she lives carried her muffins and cookies.”

Phoebe lifted one shoulder. “She’s a little like you, only gives me half the real information. To be honest, I don’t know exactly how well her business is doing, but I can tell you I send her five hundred dollars every month, and she never sends it back.”

Delaney exhaled heavily. “And Chloe?”

“I have no idea where that girl is. Last time I talked to her, she was waiting tables outside Corpus Christi. That was about a year and a half ago.”

Delaney had never been close with Chloe. Avery and Chloe had always been closer. “What’s Avery going to do now?”

“I don’t know for sure. Why don’t you ask her when you call her back?” Phoebe smiled and rubbed her hands together as she sat forward. “Now, I’m dying to hear the grand plan you’ve dreamed up for the bar, because I know you have one.”