Forgiveness Creek: The Creek Series (9 page)

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Authors: Abbie St. Claire

Tags: #romantic suspense

BOOK: Forgiveness Creek: The Creek Series
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“I need to tell him goodnight.”

We walked arm and arm back to the treatment room. Mr. Lawrence was dressed in his regular clothes, and the chemo cocktail was hooked to the catheter protruding from his chest.

“There’s my missus. You look beautiful, my dear. Thank you for a magical moment.”

Leaning in to kiss his cheek, I said, “My pleasure. Everything was perfect. See you tomorrow?”

“It’s a date. Good night, Wrenn.” He paused to look at Dane. “Take care of her, son.”

“Of course,” Dane said with a soft touch to his grandfather’s arm.

Dane pulled his car around to the side entrance and helped me into the seat. He drove with smooth motions, holding my hand for the most part. I wasn’t expecting to experience such a comfortable feeling with him so quickly, but it was as if we’d been friends for a long time. We laughed and joked, and I wondered if his parents had sent him to charm school or something like that. His mannerism was witty and soft spoken at the same time. He came across as confident, but not cocky.

“Good evening, Mr. Lawrence,” the attendant said.

They knew him by name?

He left the car keys with the valet and opened my door for me.

The mansion was breathtaking. I’d never been in a place that size or that beautiful. The details were almost overwhelming. My heart began to skip beats, and I felt a little winded as we were shown to our table. There was no one else dining in the same room.

The chair was held for me to sit, and our waiter placed the napkin in my lap. The realization I was out of my league was all consuming. A hick from Arkansas, I didn’t belong in a world of millionaires.

I stared at the silverware. For a moment, I imagined the scene in
Pretty Woman
where Julia Roberts is counting the tines on the forks. The problem was I’d forgotten the number of tines to look for.

As many times as I’d watched that movie…

“Relax. It’s just food. Try what looks good and eat it if you like it, or not, and don’t freak out over which fork to use, just grab one.” His voice was just above a whisper, so only I could hear him.

“How did you know?”

“You’re staring at the forks. I can teach you anything you want to know about fine dining, but this is for Grandfather. He would be here if he felt up to it. The dancing was all he could muster. You’re absolutely stunning tonight. I wanted you to know that.” He put his right hand on my cheek.

I leaned into it. “Really?”

“Really.”

The food was presented so beautifully I felt like I was destroying art as I ate, but it was so delicious I couldn’t stop myself. By the time dessert was brought out, I was so full I thought I might bust my zipper.

“I can’t eat any more. My stomach and this dress won’t hold it.”

“Just a bite. You have to taste their crème brûlée.” He scooted his chair up next to mine and began to feed me small bites. When he gave me a bite of strawberry and then kissed me, taking it from my mouth, I thought I might faint.

Sinfully seductive.

First one kiss, then another and another. It wasn’t long until he’d forgotten about the dessert and was consuming my lips with his. He nipped and bit at my tender flesh over and over, holding my face in both hands.

My nipples were hard, my sex was on fire, and all I wanted was to be with him and for the night to never end.

“They have rooms up stairs. Do you want to get one or go to my house or something else?”

I couldn’t imagine the wait to be with him, and however close his house was, it was too far. I was also afraid if I didn’t say yes, I might not ever.

“Get a room.”

We ascended the stairs hand-in-hand. Nerves and excitement roared through me at the same time. Not paying attention to the tall shoes and the dress, my heel became tangled in the hem and I stumbled, almost pulling us both to the floor, but Dane grabbed me before I embarrassed myself.

He scooped me in his arms and carried me to the room door. “The key is in my right pocket. Grab it.”

I did as he asked and opened the door. Once inside, he let me down and held on to my arm until my feet were firmly planted on the floor. There was a cart just inside the main entry with fruit, pastries, and more champagne.

He opened the bottle and poured two glasses, dropping a strawberry in each one. I didn’t drink much, already buzzing from what I’d consumed at dinner. Anything I did that night, I wanted to do with a clear head, make beautiful memories, and have no regrets.

I craved to be held. I wanted to remember pleasure. I wanted to forget pain. I needed a connection…to belong to someone, even if only for a few hours.

His touch to my skin was soft—melting my walls. The thought of him removing my clothes—exhilarating. There was no pretending. The passion was real between us. Kisses, trembles, quickened breaths, I experienced it all.

“I want you. I have since the first day I met you, but I don’t want to rush this.”

“Rush. Please, God, rush.”

“No.” He pushed me hard against the wall and laced our fingers together, holding our hands above my head. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving me tingling, breathing hard, and silently begging for him to never stop.

Desire filled me, consuming my mind and blocking any focus I had. My body was soft and limp against his, leaving me to experience what silk felt like flowing across flesh. Weightless. Perfect.

His mouth consumed mine, our tongues dancing, and I tasted the remnants of champagne. He released my hands and gripped my neck and jaw with his fingers, while he slowly unzipped my gown. My dress slipped to a puddle at my feet, leaving me standing in designer shoes and my panties. He leaned back enough to view my body, and I watched as his eyes trailed slowly down every inch to the floor and back.

“More beautiful than I’d imagined.” With both hands, he gripped my hips and lifted me from the floor.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. My lips found his again, urging him not to stop, quietly begging him to take me.

He placed me on the bed and knelt on the floor to remove my shoes. He kissed his way up my body. When he got to my breasts, I thought he was going to devour them, palming, biting, and pleasing them.

Backing away from the bed, he removed his clothes. All of them. I adored his body with my gaze from top to bottom. Beautifully sculpted arms and chest with a slight patch of hair from his navel to his manhood, proudly erect in front of me.

He gripped my panties with his thumbs and slowly peeled them away from my body. I lost myself in him as he devoured my body for both our pleasure. He knew what to do to please me without even asking. There was no rushing; his movements were slow and deliberate.

I closed my eyes and moaned as my climax came over me. I tried to stay with him in the moment, but for a second, I thought about how good it felt and how long it had been, which took me to the last night I’d been with Stephan.

I didn’t want memories of Stephan to be in the room with us, but he was.

“Where did you go just now?” he asked, rolling onto his back and pulling me close when my climax ended.

“I just forgot for a moment how good an orgasm feels.”

“What else?” He took his finger and lifted my chin, so he could see my eyes when I answered.

“It made me remember the last time I’d felt this good. I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you sure?”

I reached for his left hand and placed it on the left side of my chest. “Feel that?”

“Yes?”

“That’s my heart. It’s alive. It’s beating hard right now because of you, and I haven’t felt this real in a long time.”

Dane got out of bed and walked over to his pants, removing a condom from his wallet. He opened the package and slid it over his erection. He hovered on all fours over me, kissing me and pulling away and repeating the gesture. His eyes were intently watching me. There was no talking, and my senses were on overload. I tasted him and his scent filled my nose. I craved to feel him inside me, completing me, filling the void I never thought could possibly be filled again.

When he pushed into me the first time, I clawed at his back, trying to grip him and pull him into my body further. Closer. Harder. I met his every thrust with one of my own.

He rolled us over, putting me on top, one of my favorite positions, but he didn’t leave me there long. When he rolled me to my back, his movements became slow and deliberate.

When he laced our fingers together and put our hands above my head again, I loved his weight on me. It was beautiful, and I was moved to tears.

Happy tears.

When I woke up, the bed was empty, and for a second, I worried he had screwed me and run. I wished I didn’t have such doubts about people and was better at extending trust. The thought of my own weakness made me nauseous for a brief moment.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. I hadn’t even realized the bedroom door to the suite was shut. I quickly sat up and gripped the covers around my body.

“Yes, who is it?”

He slowly opened the door and walked in with a couple of Walmart sacks.

For some reason, I found it funny. I didn’t take him for a Walmart kind of guy. “Shopping this early?”

He laughed, lifting the sacks out in front of him. “It’s the only thing open this time of morning. You needed some clothes to wear out of here when we leave.”

“What? They won’t like my birthday suit?”

“No, but I do,” he said, undressing.

“I thought we were leaving. Why are you taking your clothes off?”

“If you have to ask, then I’m not giving you the right cues, madam.” He wiggled his brows.

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