AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Truth.” Her gaze was soft, apologetic.
“Why’d you really come to Magnolia Lake?” It was a question he’d wanted to ask since he’d learned she moved to town prior to being offered the position.
He couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to the story than she’d told him that day. Savannah Carlisle was an organized planner. And too sensible a person to move to an area with very few employment options on the hope she’d be hired by them.
“Because I belong at King’s Finest.” Something resembling anger flashed in her eyes. “It’s like I told you—I was compelled by the company’s origin story. I want to be part of its future.” She shifted on the sofa. “Now you. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” He studied her expression and tried to ignore the shadow of anger or perhaps pain she was trying desperately to hide.
“If you could be doing anything in the world right now, what would it be?”
“This.” Blake leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. Swallowed her little gasp of surprise. Tasted the bourbon on her warm, soft lips.
A soft sigh escaped her mouth and she parted her lips, inviting his tongue inside. It glided along hers as Savannah wrapped her arms around him. She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer.
Blake cradled her face in his hands as he claimed her mouth. He kissed her harder and deeper, his fingers slipping into her soft curls. He’d wanted to do this since he’d first seen the silky strands loose, grazing her shoulders.
He reveled in the sensation of her soft curves pressed against his hard chest and was eager to taste the beaded tips straining against the cotton.
Blake tore his mouth from hers, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her long, graceful neck.
“Blake.” She breathed his name.
His shaft, already straining against his zipper, tightened in response. He’d wanted her in his arms, in his bed, nearly since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
He wanted to rip the orange shirt off. Strip her down to nothing but her bare, freckled skin and a smile. Take her right there on the sofa as the storm raged around them.
But even in the fog of lust that had overtaken him, his bourbon-addled brain knew this was wrong. He shouldn’t be kissing Savannah within an inch of her life. Shouldn’t be preparing to take her to his bed. Not like this. Not when they were both two glasses of bourbon away from being in a complete haze.
He wouldn’t take advantage of her or any woman. His parents had raised him better than that.
Blake pulled away, his chest heaving. “Savannah, I’m sorry. I can’t… I mean…we shouldn’t—”
“No, of course not.” She swiped a hand across her kiss-swollen lips, her eyes not meeting his. She stood abruptly, taking Benny by surprise. “I…uh… Well, thank you for dinner and drinks. I should turn in for the night.”
Blake grasped her hand before he could stop himself. “You don’t need to go. We were having a good time. I just got carried away.”
“Me, too. But that’s all the more reason I should go to bed. Besides, it’s late.” She rushed from the room, tossing a good-night over her shoulder.
“Benny, stay,” Blake called to the dog, who whimpered as Savannah closed the door softly behind her. “Come.” The dog trotted over and Blake petted his head. “Give her some space, okay, boy?”
The dog clearly didn’t agree with his approach to the situation. Neither did certain parts of Blake’s anatomy.
“Way to go,” he whispered beneath his breath as he moved about the room, gathering the glasses and the empty bottle.
I shouldn’t have kissed her. Or brought her here. Or given her that damn shirt to wear.
He could list countless mistakes he’d made that evening. Missteps that had inevitably led them to the moment when his mouth had crashed against hers. When he’d stopped fighting temptation.
Blake shouldn’t have kissed her, but he wished like hell that he hadn’t stopped kissing her. That Savannah Carlisle was lying in bed next to him right now.
* * *
Sam’s howl and Benny’s incessant barking woke Blake from his fitful sleep at nearly three in the morning.
“What the hell, guys? Some of us are trying to sleep.” Blake rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows and the dogs intensified their howls of distress.
Benny hated thunderstorms, but Sam usually remained pretty calm. Blake sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the darkness.
“Guys, calm down!” he shouted.
Benny stopped barking, but he whimpered, bumping his nose against the closed door.
