Fucking was different. That was just something we did. Opening your heart, making a commitment to someone—that was something you chose. And Shaw seemed a long way off from choosing anything that would tie him down again.

  “He’s just taking his time. He has no interest in dating right now,” I said, hoping to put this conversation to death once and for all.

  “How do you know that?” Lynne asked. “Have you guys talked about it?”

  “Well, no, but . . .” I paused. I couldn’t say how I knew so much about his love life without revealing I was part of it. “He’s just not ready.”

  I signaled our waitress. I needed a hell of a lot more tequila if I was to make it through my so-called friends’ prying questions.

  “And what about you?” Courtney asked, picking up the scent of desperation hanging on me like a dog. “Why haven’t you seen anyone? You haven’t dated in forever, Chloe.”

  “Yeah, we should fix that,” Lynne said, smiling the evil grin that I knew meant she was on the prowl.

  “I’m good, you guys. Thanks for your concern, but honestly, between running the inn and being there for Shaw, I just haven’t found time.”

  “Perfect.” Courtney grinned. “No time like the present. There are plenty of single men here tonight.”

  “Not interested,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

  “Is there something going on between you and Shaw?” Courtney asked, tapping her chin.

  “Of course not,” I blurted. I proceeded to spend the next five minutes trying to change the subject, only to have it return to my love life time and again.

  “If there’s nothing going on, why does Shaw look like he wants to eat you alive?” Lynne asked.

  I glanced over again. Dammit. He was watching me with that intense, angst-filled stare of his. The one that said we’d be between my sheets later, sweaty and groaning.

  Just then, our waitress approached. “Ladies, these shots are from the gentlemen at the bar.” She tipped her chin toward a group of twenty-somethings in the corner, and then sat down three bright blue shots on our table. “They’re called Hawaiian Leg-Spreaders.”

  “Bottoms up, girls!” Lynne said, grabbing her glass and giving Courtney’s a clink.

  I lifted the glass to my lips and when I looked up, it was right into the eyes of Shaw. He was standing directly across from our table, about thirty feet away, quietly sipping a beer and watching me. I got the impression that he knew the shots were from a group of guys, and he was watching to see what I’d do.

  I tipped the liquor into my mouth and swallowed. If he thought I was going to refuse a drink from another man just because he and I happened to be sleeping together, he was wrong. In fact, the way he was watching me, like he was my appointed babysitter for the evening, was pissing me off.

  I continued chatting with my friends but all under the intense scrutiny of Shaw, who was casually leaning at a table now a mere twenty feet away.

  “Come on. We have to go thank those guys who bought us shots,” Lynne said, sliding from her bar stool a few minutes later, all five-foot-nothing of her. She straightened her halter top.

  “Yeah, and maybe buy them a shot in return. Something dirty . . . like a Screaming Orgasm.” Courtney chuckled.

  I could feel Shaw’s intense stare on me, and somehow knew if I crossed the room to talk to those men, he’d follow.

  “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up to you.”

  “Come on, Chloe!” Courtney begged.

  “I have to pee. Two minutes. I’ll be right there,” I promised. I needed to see what the hell was going on with Shaw.

  I hopped down off my bar stool and started toward the restrooms. From the corner of my eye, I saw Shaw give chase but continued on my path, ignoring the looming presence I felt behind me.

  He caught up to me in the deserted back hallway, and I spun around to face him.

  “Why aren’t you over there preening yourself in front of those men like your friends are doing?” he asked, cornering me.

  I swallowed and thrust my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. I was met with a dark, angry stare.

  “Because I’m not here to meet men.” That was true. The reason? The man I’d always desired stood exactly two feet in front of me.

  He made a murmured sound of approval in his throat.

  “And what about you? What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged, and I knew that was the only answer I was going to get.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me . . .” I tried to sidestep around him to head to the restroom, but two large hands gripped my waist and forced me up against the wall.

  And then his mouth descended on mine and he was kissing me—his tongue probing, my lips parting and knees weakening. He’d kissed me only once since we were teenagers—back that first time in the bathroom at Samantha’s parents’ house. But he was kissing me now and his mouth was hot and sweet and tender.

  I kissed him back, sucking his tongue and groaning into his mouth when his steely erection nudged at my belly.

  Reckless. This was reckless. Someone could see us.

  Seconds later, his mouth was gone. I blinked up into eyes alit with passion. Then, before I could process what was happening, he pulled me farther down the hall. He opened a door to a broom closet and pulled us inside, where we were surrounded by darkness and the subtle scent of wood polish.

  “Shaw, what are we—”

  His mouth was on mine again and the words died on my lips. His kisses were unlike anything else. Hot. Powerful. Intense. Just like his personality. He nipped at my throat, sucked on my lower lip, and gripped my ass tightly in both hands. My panties were already wet—forget foreplay when I was with Shaw. It wasn’t needed. My body was primed and ready faster than with any man who came before.

  “Down on your knees,” his gruff voice rumbled in my ear. “I want your pretty pink lips around my cock.”

  His hands pressed down on my shoulders, and when I fell to my knees before him, I heard the pull of his zipper come down. And then I was taking his thick cock deep in my throat, his musky scent surrounding me, his murmured groans spurring me on . . .

  “Suck it deep,” he ordered, and I obeyed.

  Moments ago, I was hanging out with my friends, innocently sharing drinks. Now I was here, doing this? Sometimes I confused even myself.

  “God, you’re perfection,” he said on a groan, drawing me out of my thoughts and into the moment. One hand circled my throat, his pressure light. “You let me defile you, you dirty girl.”

  I gazed up at him, my mouth full. It went without saying that the only reason I allowed him to defile me was the outrageous amount of trust between us.

  A final grunt, and seconds later he was coming, shooting hot jets of semen down my throat and making the most beautifully broken sound.

  I swallowed. His salty, bitter essence slid down my throat.

  I was still reeling when he pulled me to my feet, still trying to figure out what had just happened in the span of ten minutes. Then it hit me—Shaw had marked me, had needed to claim me as his.

  “While I know you’d love for me to suck on that hot little clit until you came, I’m not going to. Go back out there to your friends. And don’t you dare let any of those men touch you. Do you understand, Sunshine?”

  I nodded like the obedient little slave I’d become.

  “Good.”

  The door opened and I was thrust back out into the light.

  • • •

  When I woke the next morning, shame and outrage burned hotly through me as memories of what happened in that storage closet last night rushed to the surface.

  Shaw had shown up when I was out with my friends. And what . . . he’d made me suck his cock just to prove a point? His point being that while another man might be flirting and interested, I still belonged to him. Except I didn’t.

  While I had a lot of mixed emotions about these games we were playing, I’d never been mad at Shaw. But today? I was fucking livid.

  I showered and combed out my wet hair, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, and then made my way downstairs in search of coffee.

  Instead I found an empty coffeepot and Jason standing in the kitchen.

  “Morning,” I grumbled, grabbing the carafe and filling it with water from the sink.

  “Morning,” he said around a mouthful of cereal. “Shaw find you last night at Hank’s?”

  “What?”

  He shrugged, taking another bite and chewing slowly. “He stopped by here last night, asking where you were. I told him you’d gone to Hank’s. I assumed he went there to find you.”

  “Oh. Yeah. He found me,” I said, my voice sounding robotic. “We had a beer. No big deal.”

  Lies. Last night he’d used me and made me feel cheap.

  Jason nodded. “Good to see him going out and getting back into the swing of things, I guess, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I murmured.

  The fact that Shaw had tried to come out and find me last night didn’t soothe my anger. Hell, he’d probably only wanted his dick serviced anyway. Perhaps that’s all I was to him.

  Hot tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t let Jason see me cry, so I mumbled something about getting back to work and took off toward my office in the back.

  “But it’s Sunday . . . ,” Jason called behind me.

  It didn’t matter. I need to fill my brain with invoices and bank statements and web updates to avoid sinking into my bed and crying for the next eight hours straight.

  Chapter Six

  Shaw

  The haze of morning shed some light on a few things. First, I’d acted like a selfish prick last night. Second, I was getting more and more reckless with Chloe, and I didn’t know how this web of deceit I’d spun could possibly end well.

  As I rose from the bed, my mind turned over and over with thoughts about what she could possibly think of me. It was never something that had plagued me before, but after last night and my very one-sided treatment of her . . . I wondered if she saw me for what I really was—the villain in our twisted story.

  Jason had agreed to come with me today to pick up a new piece of machinery I was buying for the marina. And considering I’d slept till noon, I sent him a text letting him know I’d be late, which he’d probably already figured out. Then again, nothing about me was reliable these days. Unless you counted Wednesdays. I was always prompt and punctual then. Fuck yeah, I was.

  By the time I’d showered, dressed, and eaten, it was after one o’clock. I pulled my truck to a stop in front of Jason and Chloe’s place, but I didn’t dare get out. I didn’t know what I’d say to Chloe after last night.

  Moments later, Jason came out, stuffing his cell phone and wallet into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Ready to roll?” I asked when he climbed inside.

  “Sure thing,” he replied, putting his sunglasses on.

  They were practically a staple in your wardrobe if you lived in South Florida. I had several pairs rattling around in the glove compartment of my truck at any given time.

  “What’s new with Chloe?” I asked as we drove.

  He shot me a curious glare. “Wouldn’t you know? She said you guys met up at Hank’s last night.”

  “Oh. Right.” I kept my gaze on the road. “I just meant her overall mood. How’s she doing today?”

  The pregnant pause that followed was awkward as hell. Okay then.

  “She’s fine, I guess,” he finally said.

  That was the end of my prying questions.

  When Jason and I arrived at the warehouse, we had to wait for a few minutes while Big Tony finished up with another customer, so I decided to pull out my phone and text Chloe myself. The conversation in my truck with Jason had me on edge.

  Shaw: If last night was too much for you . . . I’m sorry.

  I got no response to my text, and I wondered if maybe this time I’d crossed the line. Perhaps silence was her way of telling me she was done.

  I reread my text. It wasn’t a full-on apology. I was saying if last night was too much for her, then I was sorry. Not that I’d acted like a complete selfish prick and was truly sorry for it.

  Hell, I’d forced her down onto her knees and stuffed my cock down her throat until she gagged. I should have been begging her to forgive me, telling her I’d gone too far. It was a fine line and one I was tiptoeing the edge of.

  “There’s something I need to say,” Jason said once we were in the cab of the truck with the pulley system placed in the back, and my wallet five hundred bucks lighter.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Your interest in Chloe . . .”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid cursing. “What interest? We’re friends, Jay—you know that.”

  “People in this town talk. And I hear things from time to time.” Then he turned and looked over at me as I drove. I kept my hands steady at ten and two and my eyes on the stretch of road in front of us. “What are you doing with my sister?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I heard something went down between you two last night at Hank’s.”

  “Nothing went down.” The lie slipped easily off my tongue. “I’d never hurt Chloe.” Another lie. I wanted it to be true, but I knew it wasn’t.

  “I know you wouldn’t,” he said and his tone softened. “But she looks at you like you walk on water, and if I find out that you’ve been fucking around with her, I’ll have something to fucking say about it.”

  “Absolutely. You’re her older brother. That’d be well within your rights.”

  “Damn straight it would.”

  We drove the remainder of the way in silence, and when I dropped him off, Jason muttered a cool, “See ya.” Then he disappeared inside.

  I was left with an uneasy feeling in my gut, and still no response from Chloe. Rather than go home, I decided to pay a visit to Abe. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting on the back porch, doing another crossword puzzle.

  “Nothing better to do than come bug an old man?” he asked when I sat down, not even bothering to look up at me.

  I chuckled. “Something like that.”

  We sat in silence for a few moments as I thought about what to say next. There was something about his style—the way he never pried, but always quietly listened and offered insightful advice that made me want to open up to him more than I did anyone else.

  “I think Chloe’s pissed at me.”

  “Did you give her a reason to be?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” Fuck. I took a deep breath. “Probably.”

  “That’s a yes.”

  I nodded and let out a heavy sigh.

  “She’s special to you,” he said.

  Of course she was. Abe knew she and I grew up together.

  “You’re a young man, Shaw. You aren’t expected to hold a memorial for your late wife for the rest of your life. It’s okay to move on.”

  That surprised me, coming from Abe. Sarah was his whole world, and I knew he’d never even considered looking for another companion, despite how lonely he was.

  “When you’re ready,” he added.

  “Yeah . . . someday,” I said.

  I just wondered if someday was going to come sooner than I was ready for.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe

  When Shaw showed up unexpectedly after work, I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d blinked and nodded, and then when he asked me if he could come inside, I’d said yes. Now we were sitting side by side on the edge of my bed and my heart was pounding like a bass drum.

  Hope-filled thoughts ran rampant in my brain. Maybe it was because it was a Monday, or because it was still light outside, or because of that apology text he sent me, but part of me hoped he was finally here to talk about something real.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, watching me carefully. I was sure he could see the way the wheels in my brain were spinning out of control.

  “Fine. Why?”

  “You never responded to my text yesterday.”

  I shrugged. “I know. I’ve been busy.”

  What a total lie. It had been slow at the inn today. I wrote him back six times and deleted the texts before sending. I was trying to be strong, and now it seemed that maybe the strategy had worked.

  Shaw chewed on his lower lip and gazed out the window at the blue horizon beyond our little stretch of beach. He was contemplative¸ and I wondered if he was ready to open up to me after closing me out emotionally for all these months.

  I decided to be bold and take the first step. “I feel like there are some things we should talk about.”

  “Related to me and you?”

  I took a deep breath. “No. About you and Samantha. About you, and how you’re doing.”

  She had died on a Wednesday night. The sobering thought kept me awake at night, wondering if the day of the week he always came to me held a deeper significance, if the empty spot in his heart was soothed by my presence. I wanted to understand more.

  He ran his hands through his hair and continued looking out the window. “What’s there to say?”

  “I just want to hear about how you’re feeling, how you’re coping with everything . . .”

  I remembered back to six weeks after the funeral. He’d asked me to come by his place, and when I got there, he asked if I would mind taking all of Samantha’s things and boxing them up. Her parents were coming by that weekend to pick up her stuff.

  I figured it would have been too painful for him to do, so of course I said yes. That was the last time we’d talked about her.

  “I think you know, Chloe,” he said, his gaze swinging over to me, and a small chill raced down my spine.

  “Do you miss her?” I asked, my voice small.

  That day almost seven months ago, Shaw took off in his boat while I made my way through the small house with only a half dozen cardboard boxes to keep me company. I boxed up her clothes, makeup, and toiletries, and little knickknacks out in the living room that I knew weren’t his. Even her toothbrush was still in its spot by the sink, her pink razor in the shower. I couldn’t imagine why he’d waited six weeks to remove some of the stuff.

 

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