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Maybe she didn’t want them to be.
If it turned out her grandfather was confused about what had transpired all those years ago, she need never tell Blake why she’d really come to Magnolia Lake. And if her grandfather was right…and Blake’s family had used him cruelly…why should she feel the slightest ounce of guilt? The Abbotts certainly hadn’t.
Either way, she wanted him. And she had no intention of taking no for an answer when it was clear he wanted her, too.
Savannah wriggled her wrists free from Blake’s loose grip. She looped her arms around his neck, her eyes drifting shut, and kissed him.
Blake hesitated at first, but then he kissed her back. He held her in his arms, his fingertips pressed to her back.
The hair on his chest scraped against her sensitive nipples. She parted her lips and Blake slipped his tongue between them, gliding it along hers.
Savannah relished the strangled moan that escaped his mouth. The way it vibrated in her throat. That small sound made her feel in control in a moment when she’d normally have felt so powerless.
As helpless as she’d felt when she’d watched the building burn. Unable to save her parents.
Her parents. Her grandfather. Laney.
What would they think of what she was doing right now? Giving herself to the grandson of the man who had taken everything from them?
Savannah’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to push the disquieting thoughts from her head.
They wouldn’t understand, but she did. She wasn’t giving herself to Blake Abbott. She was taking what she wanted…what she needed…from him.
She’d gotten lost in her thoughts. Blake was the one driving the kiss now. Both of them murmured with pleasure as his tongue danced with hers. Then he laid her back and deepened the kiss.
Savannah glided her hands down Blake’s back and gripped his firm, muscular bottom.
His length hardened against her belly and he groaned, his mouth moving against hers.
Savannah kept her eyes shut, blocking out the lightning that periodically illuminated the room, and the thunder that made poor Benny whimper. Instead, she focused on the beating of her own heart. The insistent throb and dampness between her thighs.
Savannah couldn’t control what was happening outside. But she could control this. How he felt. How he made her feel.
Powerful. Alive. In control.
She slipped a hand beneath his waistband and wrapped her fingers around the width of his thick shaft. Blake moaned against her open mouth, intensifying the heat spreading through her limbs. She circled the head with her thumb, spreading the wetness she found there, relishing the way his breathing became harder and faster in response.
He grabbed her wrist, halting her movement as she glided her fist up and down his erection.
“Neither of us is ready for what happens next if you keep doing that, sweetheart.” His voice was low and gruff.
“Then we should stop wasting time and get down to business.”
Blake shooed the dogs from the room and locked the door behind them before returning to bed. He cradled her cheek.
“Savannah, you know I want you. But I don’t want you to do this for the wrong reasons.”
“Does it matter why?”
“Yeah, baby. In this case, it does.” He swept her hair from her face. “Because this isn’t a typical one-night stand for me.”
“Why not? I’m sure you’ve done this lots of times before.” She tried to rein in her frustration. In her limited experience, it had never been this difficult to get a guy to have sex with her.
“Not with someone who works for me.”
Suddenly an Abbott is worried about being ethical?
“It’ll be our little secret. And it’ll be just this once.” She hated that an Abbott had reduced her to groveling.
“I can’t promise that, because I’m already addicted to your kiss.” He kissed her mouth. “Your taste.” He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. “And if I get more…and make no mistake about this—I do want more…there is the definite risk of becoming addicted to having you in my bed.”
It was the sweetest, sexiest thing any man had ever said to her.
She wanted to hear more of it while Blake Abbott moved inside her, making her forget her worries and fears and replacing the tragic memory associated with thunderstorms with a pleasurable one.
“I can’t promise what’s going to happen tomorrow.” She kissed him again, trying to convince him to let go of his worries, too. “I can only tell you that this is what I want. It isn’t the liquor or my fear talking. It’s me. I want you. Period.”
His body tensed, and his eyes studied hers there in the dark. Then he claimed her mouth in a kiss that shot fireworks down her spine, exploding in her belly. Her core throbbed with a desire so intense she ached with the emptiness between her thighs.
