Chapter Sixteen—Cash

She was underneath me again, finally.

I’d wanted to take her back to bed the moment I saw her standing half dressed in my room. I’d had a feeling she might try to sneak away. That’s what she was used to. After the night before, I couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to sink into her again and again.

Her bottom lip opened into a hushed cry, her blond hair splayed out beside her, her bare breast soft against my chest. The soft purrs she’d make had me harder than I could remember being.

She’d climaxed twice already, and I couldn’t take too much more of being inside of her. I’d sunk deeper, making her whimper when I came undone. She kept grinding against me until she pulled every drop of cum out of me and into the condom.

“Peach,” I said, dragging her to my chest. We’d hardly made it to the bed. We had scattered the picture frames on my dresser all over the floor. It hadn’t taken long for my fingers to find their way inside of her. “Your lips are bruised.”

Her tiny fingers touched her bottom lip, and she laughed. It was a sleepy laugh that had me on high alert. “We’ve been at it for hours, Cash,” she said, her voice raspy. “I can’t believe that it’s already five in the afternoon. I need to get up and do somethin’ with my life.”

I ran my fingers through her hair, down her soft back to her backside. “Well, I’m positive you won’t be in trouble with your boss.”

At first she was quiet, but then a laugh burst from her lips, and she slapped her palm against my chest. “Hush,” she whispered.

“Can I ask you a question?” I whispered.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

“Who is Ryder?”

I could have found out by now. As soon as I thought of it, I could have had Joey look it up for me. I didn’t because I wanted her to tell me. I wanted to know that she trusted me.

She tensed briefly against me, her fingers fiddling with the sheets next to me. “My older brother.”

Her brother. I remembered the picture that lined her family’s walls when I was there. Then suddenly it all came tumbling back, I remembered it in the news several years back. The Henry’s had closed down the store in town for a week. He’d died but I didn’t remember how.

My tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. I wanted to erase the question because I knew I’d brought up hurtful memories. “He died when I was younger. He fell from a tree trying to get Nyla out of it.”

Wow.

I stroked her head. My other hand pulling her closer to me. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

I saw the tear roll down her cheek before her palm got to it. Before I knew any better, I pulled her closer, wrapped both of my arms around her. She sunk her head into my shoulder, and her body shook against mine.

I wasn’t a therapist or a shrink, but I knew when someone had bottled up emotions. And because of her strength, I knew her parents didn’t do much to help her healing process. Their relationship was rocky, but if I’d lost my brother, my mom would have done anything it took to keep me sane.

I held her for hours. The evening pink clouds littered the sky around us. Shelby stared out into the sunset, all her tears dry, and her bright green eyes large. “I think I’m hungry,” she said, her voice raspy from silence.

I grinned down at her, pulling her to a sitting position. “I can smell dinner cooking downstairs.” I lowered my eyes to her chest. “But I’d suggest putting some clothes on. Gloria may work for me, but she’d flip her lid if you walked downstairs like that.”

Shelby gave me a narrowed look. “You’re the one that wouldn’t let me put it on this mornin’, sir.”

She squealed when I reached out to pinch her side. “Okay, I’m getting dressed.” She jumped up in a hurry to pull her clothes on.

“I actually went and got you some stuff to wear this morning.” I pointed toward a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top.

“Oh,” she said. “Thank you.”

I grabbed a shirt while she dressed beside me. She kept her eyes cast downward at first, knowing I stared at her. She only looked up when she slipped her shirt over her stomach. “Better?”

Grabbing her waist, I pulled her to me, her hands pressed tightly against my chest. “You know I like the other better, Peach.”

She looked down at the neck of my shirt. “If you say so.”

I leaned down, my nose pressed against the soft skin of her cheek. The honeysuckle smell of her skin was a smell I’d never get tired of. “I do.”

****

I was only saying goodnight.

The trouble was that I’d already said goodnight, thirty minutes ago. After an awkward encounter with Gloria for supper, I’d given her a few hours to herself before I knew she’d be getting tired.

I’d kissed her to tell her good night, and now I was in-between her legs, making out like a horny teenager. I’d fallen in love with the way I fit between her soft thighs, and how fast she reacted to my touch.

The only reason I hadn’t torn her panties down her legs was because we’d spent all night together, she needed a break.

“I thought you were comin’ to tuck me in,” she whispered into my ear, a soft giggle slipped out.

I drug my teeth up the side of her throat. “You tasted too sweet to leave without a kiss.”

I skimmed my hands up her thighs, pressing myself against her wetness, wondering what had gotten into my head. I hadn’t had this much sex since college. But I’d never felt it like this before. I couldn’t get enough of her.

“Okay,” I whispered, my palms tight on her legs. “I’m gonna walk away now.”

She laughed against my mouth. “Maybe I’m okay for a qui—”

“No, no, no,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’ll give you some time to recover, so the next time I won’t have to be soft.”

Shelby pressed a kiss to my lips as I raised up. I wanted to reach out and touch her again. Her heavy eyes stared up at me, a sleepy smile on her face. “I like that plan, sir.”

I grabbed her ankle and pulled her down on the bed. She squealed and scurried back up to the top where she covered herself in blankets. “I’ll see you tomorrow mornin’, I suspect you’ll get a good night’s rest over here—alone.”

She shrugged, playing with the end of her hair. “Maybe, who knows who’ll stop by …”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, sinking my palms against the mattress. “I guess he’ll have one heck of a night to live up to, Peach.”

“I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t agree with that,” she said, pushing me off with her foot. “You better leave before anything gets started. It’s like a ticking time bomb.”

She was right. I swept my lips across hers once more before forcing myself out of the room. “Goodnight, Peach.”

“Goodnight.”

I listened to the sound of my bare feet hitting the wooden floor on the way out. I set her alarm system; my head spun on the way back to my office. I knew I had tons of missed calls because my cell phone had vibrated all morning before I slammed my fists against it. Could I get one personal day?

Two—I meant two. I’d taken Saturday off too. A distant feeling ate at me as I shut my office door. My brother had begged me to get out of the house, the office, for months but I never had the time.

Why hadn’t I thought twice to silence my phone or ignore my e-mail? It’s never been like this before. Improving our business had been my number one priority. It still was, yeah, it still was. I’d had a much-needed, sex-addictive weekend.

My chair rolled against the floor, and my fingers brought my computer to life. Pulling up my emails, I strolled through meeting times for tomorrow, possible intern emails but underneath the clutter of little things to do, there was one from her… Mrs. Henry.

Reality slammed into my throat, threatening to strangle me. I’d been paid by her mother to have her here. To date her. Not spend my entire weekend between her legs.

Bricks filled my stomach.

Like a robot, I clicked it opened and scanned the words.

While it looked as if you two had a splendid time, darlin’, I’d appreciate if you took her somewhere where the media could get a whiff.

Good publicity was the terms, not a good time.

I hadn’t been thinking about any publicity when I made our dinner reservations only the promise of touching Shelby.

I thought about Shelby, and how that stupid funeral dress turned me on. She looked like she was in mourning but I wanted her all the more. I’d made a bet, a bargained deal, and I’d messed things up royally already.

Despite the voice in the back of my head that told me it was a bad idea to agree to the terms, I shook Mrs. Henry’s hand anyway. I’d made that bet before I realized I’d want her like this. I didn’t think physical attraction from a picture in the paper could cloud my judgment. Being physically attracted to someone can change the minute you meet them, as soon as they open their mouth even, but it didn’t change for me, I was just as attracted to her as I had been when I saw her picture in the paper …

I glanced at the time on the wall. It was eleven at night. Mrs. Henry wouldn’t expect an answer back this late, would she? I decided against it and signed out of my email.

I’ll deal with her later. Much later.