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“That’s quite an endorsement.”
“It’s the truth. I loved it.”
I’m not watching the scenery, as gorgeous as it is. I’m watching Starla. She’s come alive in the past three days since we’ve been here. She’s relaxed and happy. And sexy as hell—but that’s always the case.
I love seeing her like this, and if Cunningham Falls, Montana, does this for her, I’ll buy her a vacation house here myself.
“I wonder if Donald is freaking out yet,” she says, biting her lip.
“You didn’t tell him where we were going?”
“I left my phone in Seattle,” she confesses, and I realize I haven’t seen her pull her phone out once. “I just wanted to disengage.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job of it. Do you want me to call Donald and let him know you’re safe?”
“No.” She sighs and watches as we approach the bottom of the lift. “He’ll be fine. I’ll call him when we get back in a couple days.”“We rode the chairlift yesterday like you suggested,” Starla tells Jenna as she eats some of the best garlic bread I’ve ever had. “It was amazing.”
“I’m so glad you went,” Jenna says. “I think they close the lift for the season next weekend, so it was good timing. And it was such a clear day yesterday, I bet you could see all the way to Canada.”
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is here,” Starla says. “It doesn’t look real.”
“It’s real.” Christian grins. “I’m glad you’ve been enjoying the area.”
“No one’s recognized me,” Starla says with awe. “And if they did, they didn’t say a word. I went into a dress shop yesterday. What’s it called?” She looks at me, but I can’t remember.
“Dress It Up?” Jenna asks.
“Yes! Such cute things in there. I think I bought everything.”
“Willa’s married to my brother, Max,” Jenna says. “Her store is fantastic.”
“We’ll definitely be back,” Starla says with confidence, and Christian smiles at me.
“You haven’t said a word.”
“If the lady wants to come here on vacation, her wish is my command.”
“Do you like it here?” Jenna asks me, and all three pairs of eyes turn to me.
“I do. It’s a great little town. Like I told Starla yesterday, I’m a city boy. I love Seattle, and I’ll always want to live there. But this is a great place to visit.”
“I hope you’ll visit often,” Jenna says with a smile. “Now, we have to figure out what to order for dinner before the waitress gets mad. Ciao has the best pasta in town, but they also have amazing pizza.”
“I’m going to have to hike that mountain tomorrow rather than ride the chair. My ass is going to grow ten sizes after I eat all this pasta.”
“So worth it,” Jenna says. “So, so worth it.”“Oh my God.”
My fingers tangle in Starla’s hair as I surface from a deep sleep. She’s sucking me off, that magical mouth of hers working me over like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.
I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’d gladly do it every single day for the rest of my life.
She cups my balls and rubs that skin just behind them firmly, and I come up off the bed.
“Christ.”
She grins but doesn’t stop.
“If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, stop now.”
But she doesn’t stop, and that alone makes me want to lose it. She’s moving faster, jerking me harder, and I can’t hold it together.
I can’t stop the orgasm moving through me like a fucking freight train.
I’m still heaving, lying on my back, staring at the ceiling when she climbs over me and smiles down at me.
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Holy hell.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She hurries off the bed and runs into the bathroom. I hear the water running for what seems like a long time, and then she scurries back.
I smell toothpaste on her breath.
“Good morning.” I find my voice.
“That was fun.”
“That was a fucking blast.”
She giggles and tucks herself against my side, snuggling in deep. She draws circles on my chest, through the light spattering of hair there.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
“It’s almost ten.”
I frown and reach for my phone. Sure enough, it’s 9:45. “I never sleep this late.”
“You’re finally relaxing.”
She’s right. I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed since I started my job on the force twenty years ago. I definitely haven’t slept this hard, or this late, that’s for sure.
“Maybe Montana is better for you than you’re willing to admit,” she says.
“Do you want to make a home here?” I ask her, rolling onto my side so I can look her in the eyes.
“I don’t know.” She frowns slightly, thinking it over. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like I had a home base. What I grew up in was a prison. I’ve been touring for so long. The bus was home, and then the plane. I have a mausoleum in LA.”
