A Dash of Spice

“I know. I know. Fuck!” He went back to practically wearing a hole in the area rug covering her hardwood floor.

Ciara’s heart twisted. “Scout. Come on. Talk to me. What the hell is going on?”

“Hamilton came to us with a deal. An extremely lucrative deal.”

“You don’t need money. And from what you just said, it sounds as though Hamilton doesn’t, either. I’m sure JT’s doing quite well himself.”

“Yeah. I know.” This time Scout’s look was pointed.

Ciara’s stomach plummeted to somewhere down around her knees. “Scout. Win Creek Cabin means a hell of a lot to you. To your family. Your grandparents loved that place. There’s no way Grandpa Win would want you to cash-out unless you absolutely had to.”

“What else am I going to do?” he quietly demanded, his consternation evident. Painful enough to shred her.

She splayed her hands over his abs and stared up at him. “Don’t sell. You’ll never forgive yourself if you do.”

“But what right do I have to keep Hamilton from doing this? I’m never around, remember?”

“Scout, you have every right to say no to this. That place is yours, too. Not just as an asset, but by way of every single memory you’ve collected up on that mountain. It’s a part of who you are—and I know you well enough to know that you don’t arbitrarily give away pieces of yourself.”

His gaze held hers. She could see the turmoil in his deep brown eyes. See the torment. There was more that he wasn’t telling her. More going on than just the potential sale of the beloved Win Creek Cabin.

Was it his career? Something else? Another woman he was reluctant to mention to her, because it’d pretty much devastate her? What?

“Scout—”

His head lowered and his mouth crashed over hers. He didn’t want to talk anymore. Ciara thought they should definitely continue the conversation. But then his tongue swept over hers and his arms wrapped around her and Ciara lost all touch with sensibility.

Her arms circled his neck and she held on for dear life as he crushed her against his hunky body and delivered one of his best, scorching-hot kisses. Meant to make her forget everything else but him. It worked. In a heartbeat.

Their lips and tongues tangled. Her breathing escalated. His hand skimmed down to her ass and he palmed a cheek. Squeezed firmly. She felt his erection against her hip and it did wicked things to her mind and her senses. Her body. Her nipples tightened behind the lacy cups of her bra. Her clit tingled. Little shivers of delight raced down her spine.

That stellar orgasm he’d given her the night before was not nearly enough to take the edge off. She missed being in his strong embrace. Missed feeling his heat and muscles. Missed smelling his earthy, rugged scent. Missed his searing kisses.

Lord, the man knew how to kiss like there was no tomorrow!

When they eventually came up for air, she was breathless. But somehow managed to say, “I thought you were here for football.”

“I don’t give a damn about football.”

He backed her up until her calves brushed the edge of the sofa. Then he eased her down into a corner piled high with pillows. He unzipped the jacket on her tan-colored yoga suit and slipped his hand under the tight white tank top she wore. His hot skin on hers was electrifying, his touch confident. He cupped her breast and massaged assertively. A little rough. Precisely how she liked it.

His mouth covered hers again and he kissed her hungrily as his thumb whisked over her pebbled nipple, the lace adding a hint of friction that was sinfully delicious.

Ciara’s legs twined with his and she writhed against him, loving the feel of his body partially covering hers. Though, really, she wanted all of him. Grew more restless and in need of him with every passing moment.

Scout’s hand left her breast and traveled down her stomach, then behind the band of her yoga pants and thong. His fingers grazed her slick folds and she tore her mouth from his. Let out a small cry.

“Ciara,” he whispered as his mouth blazed a trail down her throat. “Fuck. I want you. So damn much.”

Two fingers eased inside her and plunged deep, pumped aggressively.

She clasped his shoulder with her hand. Arched her spine just as his mouth reached her breast and his tongue glided over her nipple, teasing the bud tauter through the lightweight material. Then he drew it into his mouth and sucked.

“Scout!” Her insides ignited. “Jesus!”

He stroked her quickly with his fingers, with his tongue. With sheer determination to set her off. Now.

The sensations swelled in her core, taunting and tugging at her, until they collided and erupted.