We came back here after a brief pit stop in town for dinner. Slim Harold’s is a knock-off of a popular dance bar in Myrtle Beach called Fat Harold’s. The menu is the same, including their signature grilled bologna sandwiches, and the old-timers go there to shag dance on the weekends.

  We got an order to go and came back to my place after dark. “It’s better to see it from the inside out the first time,” I assured her.

  “What does that mean?” Her eyebrow arched as we hopped out of the jeep.

  I grabbed our bags while she carried the food, and as I led her through the unfinished ground floor, she noted the ancient thread winders, looms, and weaving machines.

  “These are incredible. Do any of them still work?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re all out of commission at this point.”

  Taking the lead, we climbed the stairs to the second level, the main living area, and when I switched on the lights in the vast, open warehouse I'd been transforming into a home, wonder filled her expression.

  It’s the same size as the space below, but the red pine floors have been sanded and sealed. Heavy cypress beams are uniformly arranged throughout the open space, creating a sense of symmetry. The living area is complete with linen couches and chairs, a 72-inch flatscreen television, a gas log fireplace and sisal rugs.

  The kitchen and dining area is in the center with a full, gas stove and oven, quartz countertops, and stainless appliances, then behind it is my bedroom and sitting area. A California king is hidden behind heavy beige canvas curtains hanging from the soaring ceilings overhead. I even have a workout area with weights and a bench on the opposite end.

  “This is amazing.” Her voice was hushed, and I shrugged with pride.

  “Hutch keeps insisting I hire someone to complete the exterior and the first floor. Maybe I will. I’ve just been having fun doing it myself.”

  I didn’t add that I was lonely and bored out of my mind, and now that she’s come into the picture, my brother’s words are making a lot more sense.

  We changed into comfortable, pajama-like clothes, a pair of shorts for me from my closet. A pair of short shorts and a long-sleeved thin tee for her from her bag.

  The dark circles of her areolas were visible through the thin beige fabric and almost made me forget how hungry we both were, but my stomach growling told my dick to take a break.

  So I parceled out the food and poured us each a glass of white wine. Now our bellies are full, we’re a little buzzy, and she’s making me read to her my favorite parts of my favorite Harry Potter book.

  “Why do you read this when you can’t sleep?” She lifts her head, resting her chin on her hand. “It starts with a nightmare of murder.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” I trace my thumb across the top of her cheek. “I think because it’s the first time Harry faces down the evil who killed his mom. He learns she died saving his life.”

  Her eyes are warm, and she touches my cheek. “Losing someone hurts so much. For the longest time, I tried to act like my father’s death didn’t hurt me, that I was strong enough to take it.” Her voice lowers, and I tighten my arm around her. “Four years ago, I decided it wasn’t working. I had numbed the pain for so long with vodka, and when I finally felt it, I was determined to get answers… and revenge.”

  She adds the last part so softly, I’m not sure she meant for me to hear it, but I did.

  “They say revenge is a poison you give yourself.”

  “And wait for the other person to die,” she sighs, rolling onto her back. “I know.”

  “When my mother died, I used these books to escape the pain. I think I wanted to live in a place where magic might bring her back.” Exhaling deeply, I set the book aside. “I blamed my father for not being there for her. He left her with three kids and moved to New York to pursue his own interests—in every way. I hated him so much for it. I wanted to make him pay for breaking her heart.”

  It’s an old bitterness that burns on my tongue when I speak it, but it turns her to me again, gazing up at me with curious eyes. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing… to him.” I think about this topic as I have over and over in the last few years as I’ve watched my brother then Scar find love and happiness. “I simply stopped believing. I stopped trusting anyone. Until I was completely alone.”

  Her palm is flat on my chest, and she rests her cheek on it, studying my face as if she understands every word I’m saying, every motivation. “But you’re so charming and approachable. You’re very handsome.”

  “You’re very beautiful.” I lean down and kiss her nose. “My problem is subconscious. People get too close, and I create distance.”

  “Am I too close?”

  Lifting my hand, I smooth her hair off her face. “You’re right where I need you to be. Except when I need you to be under me.”

  I give her a teasing wink, and her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. Her chin dips, and she presses a kiss to my bare chest. She holds for a moment, almost seeming like she wants to tell me more, but her head tilts to the side instead.

  “You have two siblings? Who’s the other one?”

  “My sister Judy died of ovarian cancer almost ten years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She sits up to meet my eyes with her round ones. “You’ve had so much loss compared to mine.”

  “Have I?” Reaching for her arm, I pull her to me again. “You said you lost your father and a brother.”

  “I never knew my brother. You had a whole life with your sister. It’s so much harder.”

  “Good news, she left us a baby girl. Well, she’s not a baby anymore. Pepper is so much like her mom. It’s like having Judy again.”

  “Where is Pepper?”

  “She lives with her dad now in Hamiltown, but she’s always at Hutch’s place.”

  “Doesn’t she like her dad?”

  “Oh, sure, but when Judy died, Hutch kind of became her dad for a little while.”

  She’s quiet a moment. “Is he a good dad?”

  “The best. He’s been kind of shoved into the role since our own dad left, but he’s good at it. A little overbearing at times, but he can hear it when you tell him to back off.”

  She’s quiet, and I trace my fingers in her hair, curling the silky strands around my fingers lost in thought. Her chest is against my chest, and our hearts beat in time. We’re sharing so much, it’s hard to think of this as something that will naturally conclude at the end of the semester. I can’t imagine shaking hands and saying goodbye.

  At the same time, she has no reason to stay, and I’m committed to Thornton. She’s supposed to launch, pursue her career, start her life. The thought twists in my stomach. It’s a bitter pill I don’t want to swallow.

  The brush of her lashes tickles my chest, and I wonder if her mind is following the same path as mine.

  “What are you thinking?” My voice is solemn, and she lifts her chin.

  “The way you describe them makes me miss my dad. I always wanted a family.”

  I could give her that…

  “I didn’t mean to bring us down.” She sits up in the bed, eyes sparkling with mischief, and my hands fall to her waist. “What?”

  “I know how to get you up.” Her hand slides to the side, reaching down to stroke and cup my dick, which surges instantly at her touch.

  My heated gaze lands on her breasts in that thin top, and I reach out to cup them, circling my thumbs over her hardening nipples. Her blue eyes darken, and she leans forward to kiss me.

  “I can make you come first.” Turning, she straddles me backwards, leaning forward and pulling my dick all the way into her mouth.

  “Fuck…” I groan, pressing my back to the headboard and lifting my hips instinctively as she grips the base of my shaft.

  Looking down, her ass is right in my face, and I can take a challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

  Lifting her thighs, I slide lower, shoving her booty shorts aside and dragging my tongue up and down the slippery seam of her pussy.

  “Oh!” Her hips jump, and she pops off me with a soft moan.

  It only helps me position her higher, my tongue moving swiftly, circling and pulling at her swollen clit.

  “No…” She scrambles, reaching for my legs and pulling my cock into her mouth, all the way to her throat again.

  “Shit…” I press my head against the pillow a moment at the force of her suction, at the insanity of this competition.

  I’ve never been with such a tomboy, always wanting to wrestle and compete, but I confess, it’s hot as fuck in the bedroom, especially with her making my dick so hard it’s pointing straight up.

  Catching her hips, I roll us so I’m on top, biting at her inner thighs and sucking at her belly, leaving a red mark before I return to her clit. I didn’t anticipate she’d be ready, dropping her jaw and taking me all the way back to the back of her throat.

  My head lifts with a groan, and the fire in the base of my spine is undeniable. It’s too good, and she’s not stopping. I can’t let her win…

  Pushing off the bed, I come out of her mouth with a pop before climbing back just as fast to flip her over quickly. She struggles, laughing as she tries to escape my grip, but my hands are on her waist. She’s not going anywhere.

  Dragging her down to the end of the bed, I rip her shorts down, lining up my cock before sinking it deep and hard into her hot cunt.

  “Dirk…” she gasps, stilling beneath my dominance.

  I start to pound into her feverishly from behind and her hands stretch and claw at the sheets as she moans. Her ass rises to meet my thrusts, and the heat of orgasm surges to wildfire in my veins.

  Sliding my hand around, I find her clit, massaging firmly as her knees buckle and a whimper comes from her throat.

  “That’s right.” Bending forward, my voice is at her ear. “You like this?”

  She nods quickly. “Harder…”

  Her body is soft beneath mine, and we’re working in time, thrusting and pulling. She turns her face, and I cover her mouth, driving my tongue inside to taste her. Her hand reaches up, fingers threading in my hair, and pulling. Our lips slide and bite, and with another hard thrust, the surge of orgasm rips through my body.

  “Fuck!” My mouth breaks away, and I drop my head on her shoulder, holding as the pulsing rocks me, as my own knees bend.

  We collapse onto the bed, riding out the last waves, holding, clenching, until the shudders pass, and the room returns to focus.

  I roll to the side. She’s on her stomach, her arms bent and her head turned to face me. Reaching out, I trace her hair away from her eyes with my finger, and she blinks up at me.

  A naughty grin curls her swollen, bruised-red lips. “I let you win.”

  Exhaling a laugh, I scoot closer, rolling her onto her back and covering her upper body with mine. “I’m stronger than you.”

  She gazes up at me with those stunning eyes, and I slide my hand across her forehead, moving her hair back.

  “I love your strength.” A slight rasp is in her voice. “I love knowing you could hurt me, but you’re holding back because you can’t live without me.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  Quiet falls between us. Our eyes hold, and the pull between us is undeniable, like it always has been since that very first day. Leaning down, I kiss her slowly, gently, sliding my lips across hers before opening her mouth and finding her tongue.

  She feels so good, and with every beat of my heart, I’m calm, sure. They say when it’s right, you just know it. The words are right there, but I won’t say them. Still, it’s here, waiting to be plucked from the air like the apple on an ancient tree.

  The one we were warned not to touch.

  18

  Reanna

  The light of my phone illuminating the darkness rouses me. I’m curled up next to Dirk in his enormous bed, and his arms are clutched tight around me.

  It’s the most divine heaven until I read my phone, and it all goes to hell. You’re in Hamiltown. Do you have it?

  Natasha. Shit.

  I was hoping to keep her in the dark as long as possible, but of course, she’s tracking my phone. Started in HVH’s study. At DW’s. Will return soon.

  That should shut her up for a while. Last thing I need is her bugging me or worse, Dirk seeing one of her texts and asking questions.

  Putting my phone away, I trace my fingers along the lines of his forearm wrapped around my shoulders. We’re sharing so much and growing so close. I want to stay here with him, know him better, share everything… or as much as I can. I’m having a hard time staying focused on my goal, and searching for the ledger is slipping in my priorities.

  Could I let go of trying to find my father’s killer? Give up on trying to find out if my brother is still alive? Don’t I owe them that? Would Dirk understand if I told him why I’m really here, that I’m not really a student at Thornton?

  Every time I close my eyes and imagine saying the words to him—that I was planted in his class to get close to him, so he would bring me here where I could search for a ledger of criminals for an organization he’s been fighting for years—paralyzing fear shoots down my spine.

  Would he believe I fell in love with him despite every self-protective instinct and order not to do so? It wasn’t even an order. The idea I might fall for him never entered the realm of possibilities.

  I could make it up to him. I could give him something he wants. I could go back and bring them down myself…

  “Are you awake?” His husky voice startles me, and I turn in his arms.

  “My phone woke me up.”

  Even with sleepy eyes and messy hair, he’s still so damn gorgeous. Then he leans down and kisses the top of my head, melting my heart and making me want to cry.

  “I’ll make some coffee.” He slides out of bed and walks to the kitchen bare-assed naked, and I lean my cheek on my hand, watching his muscles flex as he moves.

  Less than an hour ago, that sexy body was above me, inside me, surrounding me with his scent, for the who-knows-how-many-eth time. I do love his strength, the weight of him holding me down, his mouth opening mine, our tongues curling as our bodies become one.

  I can’t imagine that strength turning on me in anger. What have I done?

  Sliding out of the bed, I scoop my shorts off the floor and pull his navy Henley off the chair and over my head. It smells so good like him, clean, fresh, with a little undercurrent of something deeper. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against the firm muscles in his back. I can hold him a little longer… before I have to run.

  “Shit, I’m out of coffee.” He turns, wrapping me in his arms. “Hang out, and I’ll run up to Steamy Beans and grab us a go-order.”

  I freeze. It’s the perfect opportunity to search his place, and he’s dropping it directly in my lap, with total trust in me. I remember his words from last night, how he stopped trusting anyone, and I look up at his open smile, his hazel eyes brimming with something so close to…

  “I’ll go with you.” I plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Let me put on some jeans and you can show me the town.”

  I’m brushed and ready, still wearing his Henley, now paired with fresh jeans and boots and a light canvas jacket. A swipe of lip gloss, and I catch his hand, leaving his apartment and my task behind.

  Just before we head out the door, he stops and puts his arm around me, pulling me close to his side. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”

  Reaching for his cheek, I kiss his lips briefly. “I like so many things right now.” I can’t begin to tell him all of them.

  Steamy Beans is a cute little coffee shop with black and white mosiac tile floors and dark wood cases filled with pastries. They have a delicious house blend, coffee made with cinnamon, and we sit at a black metal table in matching metal chairs with the scent of fresh baked bread and sugar floating in the air around us.

  Dirk has a cup of coffee as well, and we split a plate of scones with jam. He’s wearing a navy ball cap, and that dimple I adore is in his cheek. I love watching him. He polishes off two scones while I’m still working on my first.

  “I have to get over to Hugh’s and exercise Training Day. Otherwise we can do pretty much whatever we want.”

  Leaning closer, I lower my voice. “I like what we’ve been doing.”

  “Same here.” He kisses my lips. “We’ll do plenty more of that. Still, I can show you around. We’ll stop by my office, so you can see how exciting my work is here.”

  A touch of sarcasm is in his tone, and I tease, “Shall we christen your work desk as well?”

  “Depends on how much of an exhibitionist you are. Our front walls are glass.”

  “Sounds like you need some curtains.”

  When we’ve finished our coffee and breakfast, he takes my hand, and we walk across the street to a glass-front office with a door that reads Winston and Lourde in old-school hand-painted lettering. At least it looks hand-painted. I suspect they’re stickers.

  “It’s like something out of an old film noir.” I trace my finger over the words.

  “All we need is a femme fatale.”

  “Yeah.” My voice trails off as I consider the femme fatale, the seductive woman who leads the hero into a trap.

  Dirk turns the lock, and I follow him into the heart of their operation. The one they used to take down almost all of the organization four years ago. Natasha would be turning herself inside out at the thought of me being here. It’s a sparse, open space with three desks, a few filing cabinets, two desktops, and a large computer server.

  “I call this the brains of the office.” He pats the server. “Although it took my brains to set up the network.”

  “Are you saying you’re the brains of the office?”

  “Yes,” he laughs. “I am.”

  That makes me smile, but my tension won’t ease. I step over to the desk I’m pretty sure is his. It has a photo of him crouching behind a little girl in pigtails and a softball uniform holding up her hands like she’s catching a large, sprinkled donut instead of a softball.