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“Are you kicking me out?”
She nods. “I have to. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, just please...”
“Their hold over you won’t last forever,” I tell her in a cold voice. “I’ll drag you away from them kicking and screaming if I have to.”
She shakes her head in confusion and I press my lips against hers one last time and they are still heated from our kiss and then I climb out into the dark night.
7
Zinnia
I told Bram I was going to make it up to him for yesterday and I keep mypromise. We decide to go for a walk on the grounds because it’s a nice day for once. And outside of the house we won’t have to act like nothing is going on between us, we won’t have to hide that we share a bond that even I don’t understand.
“Are you going for a picnic?” Miss. Pattie singsongs when we try to sneak out and I tense. “Hold on now and Mr. Bryce and I will join you.”
“We’re just going to quickly catch some sun,” I say with heated cheeks. “Mr. Rowe has asked me to show him the weeping willows and then we’ll be right back.”
“Sweet isn’t she, our Zinnia?” Miss. Pattie says and I feel that pinch of guilt again but Bram notices and his eyes darken.
“Couldn’t be sweeter,” he replies and I refuse to look at either of them.
“I would ask you to keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Rowe,” Miss. Pattie laughs, “but I already know you wouldn’t do anything to ruin Zinnia’s reputation.”
“He wouldn’t dream of it,” I say quickly and then I dash out, racing down the porch then hurry in between the trees so fast that I’m well ahead of Bram who strolls toward me like he has all the time in the world. His hands are in his pockets and he looks like he’s casually walking if it weren’t for that expression in his eyes.
It tells me that he’s prepared to chase me to places most men would refuse to go. Tells me that he doesn’t care about the chaos he might cause as long as he gets to have me.
I gasp in surprise when I get shoved against one of the trees and Bram pushes his body against mine, putting his leg in between my thighs and my eyes lower.
“This is too out in the open. Someone could see,” I say but he shakes his head.
“They won’t. Now give me those lips and give them good before my kindness runs out and I put a baby in you right here and right now.”
Shuddering at his rough words, I let out a surprised moan when he slants his lips against mine. There’s nothing polished or sweet about the kiss, only pure deprivation and he doesn’t hold back. He never holds back with me as if he doesn’t know how and my mind spins, all logic draining from me. Our breaths hook and this is how it always should have been like. This is what it feels like when you’re kissing the right person.
When I turn my head to the side, he traces his kisses down my throat then to my cleavage and sucks on the skin on the upper part of my breasts.
I dig my fingers into his soft hair, moaning his name. He groans at that, craving me to be responsive because he is always responsive with me and it feels like the only time when he truly lets his guard is when he’s with me. We stay in the secrecy of the trees as long as we can without raising any brows and I’m forced to control my panting when I pull away.
“How do I look?” I ask, hoping that my cheeks aren’t too red and I feel a stirring in my body when Bram removes a leaf from my hair. That’s what his touch does to me. Makes me act like I’m the other half of Abram Rowe.
“Like you’re my little plaything,” he answers and it’s what I want to be. I want to be his little plaything. We make sure to keep a distance between ourselves when we go back and then we sneak into Bram’s chambers, locking the door.
Bram half sits and half lies down on the couch, loosening his shirt and he lights a cigar. It’s one of the good ones, finest tobacco and it makes a scent of masculinity spread in the air. A small cloud of smoke slithers over his head and I feel my stomach dip from how enchanting he is.
How could I ever mistake him for something cultured? There is depravity in him and I crave it, crave it the way a person craves medicine on the tongue when they don’t feel like themselves. A slow, predatory smile spreads over his face when he watches me and he waves me over with a flick of his hand but I shake my head.
I don’t want things to go too far. I don’t want him to impregnate me. Not like this and not now.
“Dove,” he says in a low voice and the way he blows out the smoke is...sexual. “What are you so afraid of?”
Braiding my fingers, I whisper, “You.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not used to feeling the way I feel around you.”
“How do you feel?”
