Chapter 3
The next morning, as soon as I wake up I know my prediction was dead-on. Even rolling over to look at Bryce causes me to feel the rawness between my legs. It actually makes me giggle.
“Was I talking in my sleep?” Bryce asks, opening his eyes.
“You talk in your sleep?” I ask, sliding into his arms. He kisses me on my head as he pulls me to him.
“I like waking up next to you,” he dodges. I shove him playfully.
“Uh-huh, way to avoid that one, tiger,” I tease him. “I was laughing because I’m so sore I swear I still feel you in there every time I move.” He laughs.
“Yeah, the sheets are kind of chafing me,” he admits. “Guess we’ll have to heal up before we give it another go.”
“Now we just have to practice not looking like we fucked each other silly for hours,” I giggle. Suddenly, something occurs to me. “Does Emily already know? About us?”
“No, I’ve been a little busy,” Bryce replies with a smirk. “Why?”
“Well if she doesn’t, she’s going to the second she sees us both walking funny,” I explain. Bryce barks another laugh.
“Oh, well,” he replies. “Not much to do about it now.” He sits up and slings his long legs over the side of the bed. And I get a nice view of the firm, well-defined muscles of his back. I lean over and trace my fingertips over his lower back muscles. He looks over his shoulder curiously. I grin up at him.
“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” I say, letting my hair fall over my face to hide my embarrassment. He turns around and flips me over, climbing on top of me.
“You’ve got to stop looking so sexy. It literally hurts,” he murmurs into my neck, kissing his way down to my chest.
“Mmmm,” I groan. “Funny, because as it happens I hurt less when I’m turned on.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Bryce moans. He drops a hand between my legs, lightly skimming my sex. Even the gentle touch is too much, though and I suck in a breath sharply.
“No hands,” I chastise him. He raises an eyebrow. And I realize it was the wrong thing to say. His head drops between my legs and, before I can stop him, his silken tongue is pushing between my lips, stroking the extra-sensitive bundle of nerves hidden inside. It stings at first, but like last night’s escapades, that melts into pleasure quickly. And he doesn’t stop until I’m coming in his mouth. Again.
As we pull up to his mom’s house a few hours later, I’m still pouting that he wouldn’t even let me try to return the favor. He kills the engine and looks over at me.
“You’re not still sulking, are you?” he teases me. I feign a glare at him.
“No,” I snap jokingly. He chuckles and gives me an amused half-smile. And I can’t keep it up, cracking a smile of my own. “Yeah, laugh it up, baby. You’ll get yours later.”
Bryce leans over to whisper in my ear. “I’ve already got everything I need,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. It’s unexpected sweetness. Usually when he’s whispering in my ear, it’s something dirty. I find I like it anyway. He shoots me a grin and climbs out of the car, so I follow suit.
As soon as I round the car, he takes my hand. Feeling his rough, warm grip makes me feel a whole other level of safe than I even used to feel in his presence when he was simply my overprotective, close friend. And I can’t ever remember being so happy.
He leads me into the house. We can hear Emily talking before we even enter the living room. But a hush falls over the room as we walk in, still hand in hand. Three shocked faces take us in — Emily, their mother, Rebecca, and their Aunt Charlotte. And I don’t know who looks more thrilled to see our obvious coupledom. Bryce smirks down at me, clearly amused by their astonished silence.
“Hi, guys,” Bryce greets them, letting me go to kiss his mother and aunt on the cheek. He then sits down on the smaller of the two couches in the room, pulling me down next to him. He’s so relaxed and casual, you’d think we’d always been showing up to brunch at his mom’s house as a couple.
But Emily’s having none of it. She tugs dramatically at her long, chestnut waves, her blue eyes brimming with excitement. “Yeah, hi, hey, nothing going on here,” she intones sarcastically. “Just my brother. And my friend. Together. Unless you’ve just started holding hands with all our friends.”
“She was my friend first,” Bryce reminds her, putting his arm on the couch behind me and crossing his legs. I suppress a smile. I’d get on his case for torturing his sister, but she’s meddled in our relationship so many times lately, it’s kind of fun to watch him take a little revenge. “How are you doing, Mom?”
His mother gives him a look that’s somewhere between disapproving and amused. I imagine Emily drives everyone a little crazy. But I know she means well, and she’s got a heart of gold. She’s been a good friend to me since we met and became close while I was helping with their father’s funeral. So I almost want to spare her. Almost.
“I’m fine, darling, thank you,” Rebecca responds. “It’s so nice to see you, Sera. How are things with you?”
“Oh, no,” Emily insists. “Nuh-uh. First you have to tell us: Are you or aren’t you together?”
I give Bryce an overly affected look of bemusement. “We did come here together, didn’t we?” I ask innocently. He can barely contain his smirk.
“Yep. Seemed a waste to drive separately,” he replies airily. And I swear Emily looks like she’s about to punch us.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Emily Rose Hoyt,” Charlotte chides her. “They’re obviously a couple. Unclench.” Bryce laughs. Emily doesn’t. She pouts openly, pointing it my direction first.
“Sera, you pinky swore to be my friend no matter what,” she reminds me. “Don’t leave me hanging.”
“Em,” I sigh dramatically. “If your boyfriend wanted to mess with his meddling sister a little, wouldn’t you let him?” She takes my meaning immediately, squealing loudly as she jumps out of her seat to hug me. I laugh as she embraces me. “But I’m with Charlotte on this one, anyway. Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Always get the story straight from the source,” she responds. “I don’t assume.” I mash my lips together, suppressing a sarcastic response about her gossipy tendencies.
“Speaking of stories,” I say, diverting the subject away from Bryce and me. “Rebecca, would now be a good time for us to talk about Landon? I meant what I said a few weeks ago. I really do want to hear more about your husband. You’ve all come to mean so much to me, and I’m sad I wasn’t able to know him before he passed.” I’d already discussed doing exactly this with Bryce a while back, but he still looks surprised. I give him a look, wondering if it was okay to ask. He pulls me toward him and kisses me softly on the cheek. And I know it was.
Rebecca smiles sadly but, to her credit, flawlessly maintains her composure. Her husband only having passed a month or so ago, even though it wasn’t unexpected, I’m in awe of how well she’s doing.
“I think I’d like that,” she replies softly. “Let’s go eat and we can all share our favorite memories of him.”
The meal is exquisite, and the reminiscing flows well beyond brunch. When Bryce and I say our goodbyes late that afternoon, I feel more like a part of his family than I even do of my own. Not that that’s saying much, about my family anyway. And I can see how happy Bryce is for it too.
As we descend the front steps, he wraps his hand around mine once more. He walks me to the passenger side of the car, where he gathers me into his arms.
“They all love you,” he says, looking down at me adoringly.
“Good,” I respond, wrapping my arms around his neck and going on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Because I love them too.” He smiles and nuzzles his nose against mine. I look seriously into his eyes. “Now take me home so I can do naughty things to you.” Bryce laughs and releases me, opening the car door so I can get in.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, grinning as he closes the door behind me.
But once we’re home, we actually end up on the couch, laying down holding each other and talking about all sorts of things. It feels like now that I’m getting to know him as a lover and partner, I need to relearn everything I already know about him from that slant. And he seems to feel the same. Our talk is much more hopes-and-dreams oriented, and we’re just as in sync as we were as friends. Though it’s hard not to expect something to crop up that will make this come crashing down around my ears. But I decide, as I lay in his arms, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes and talking about our future, that I’m going to try to just be happy. It’s against my nature and what life has taught me so far, but I’m so ready for hope. And Bryce Hoyt, with his sunshine smile and fierce loyalty, is just what I need.
We talk late into the evening, not even stopping through a light dinner. It’s not until we realize it’s past our usual bedtimes that we head upstairs. But I make good on my promise, seeing to his pleasure just as thoroughly as he saw to mine this morning.
When I wake to my alarm the following morning I find myself alone in bed. But I can hear the shower running. Bryce must be done with his workout. Gleefully, I slide out bed to join him.
The bathroom is steamy, but I can just make out his tall form. And as I get closer I can see more of his gorgeous body. I’m instantly as wet as his glistening skin.
I knock on the glass door. Bryce turns, looking not terribly surprised to see me.
“Did you wait to take a shower until you knew I’d be getting up?” I ask suspiciously. One of his eyebrows waggles suggestively and I laugh, sliding open the foggy door and stepping in.
He’s on me immediately, pulling me into the hot stream of water, his mouth pressing into mine insistently. My hand slips to his cock to stroke him into readiness, but I find there’s no need. He’s already there. I groan softly into his mouth as my own wetness is made redundant by the moisture that’s engulfed us.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says into my ear. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to fuck you. Hard.” I groan, leaning into him. I can’t even speak, so I simply nod.
Bryce turns me around, pressing on my back until I’m leaned forward and braced against the wall. And with a tilt of his hips, he’s pressed himself into me from behind. I gasp at the suddenness of our joining, and he gives me the smallest fraction of a moment to adjust before his hands grip my breasts and he begins thrusting roughly into me. It’s only painful for a second before I’m moaning in ecstasy. With Bryce groaning behind me as he holds nothing back, and every part of me still sensitive, it’s not long before we both come apart with pleasure.
I turn back around, returning my lips to his for a final kiss before I playfully shove him out of the shower. “Thanks,” I say, waving at him as I close the door. He laughs and shakes his head.
“That’s cold, Sera,” he teases. I shrug and start to lather up my hair, pretending to ignore him. He laughs again as he dries off. When he leaves to get dressed I watch his unbelievably smoking hot backside as he walks away. And it’s all I can do to concentrate long enough to finish showering.
It takes me until mid-morning to fully get my head into work. Which is good, because I have a late morning meeting with Charles Sutton. I decide to drop in his office ahead of time to check in with him, given the understandable tension in the office these last weeks. Understandable because his son is pending trial for sexually assaulting one of my former employees. And the whole office has been buzzing with theories and gossip, to the point that I know even Charles must be hearing them by now.
I knock softly on his door.
“What?” his commanding, voice calls sharply. Steeling myself, I poke my head in the door.
“Good morning, boss,” I greet him. “Mind if I come in?” He turns from his place by the windows, his hands behind his back, a worn-out expression on his stern features.
“Yes, of course, Sera, please,” he replies, returning to his desk chair. I take a seat opposite his desk, crossing my legs nervously after I’m seated.
“How are you, Charles?” I ask. He drums his thumbs on the armrests of his chair.
“Managing,” he replies. His dark eyes meet my own, and I see a great sadness in them. “What about you, Ms. Evans? My company absorbed yours not quite two months ago. Even aside from the issues with my son, I know it’s been a difficult time for you.” I huff an ironic laugh. It’s hard not to feel like the drama in my own life has invited it into Charles Sutton’s. Not that his son’s behavior is in any way my fault, but our contentious relationship before that even came to light made the transition difficult.
But then, I’d run my own real estate consulting services company for nearly five years. And Charles Sutton brought me into the fold with the express, though undeclared, purpose of mentoring me to become his successor, having deemed his eldest son’s disposition a poor fit for the job. In hindsight I should have expected the epic clash of wills between Daniel and me. And if I hadn’t personally been going through so much, I might have been able to contain myself better.
I heave a deep sigh. “It’s been tumultuous, to say the least,” I admit finally. “But I can’t help feeling there’s a reason for everything. And I have no regrets about coming to work for you or about folding Evans Realty Services into Sutton Developments. Being exposed to more of the industry, harnessing the power of our combined companies, I understand why you wanted this. I imagine it’s what my grandfather would have wanted. For both of us.” Charles steeples his fingers under his nose, as he is wont to do, but I also notice tears in his eyes. And I realize they’re in mine too.
Perhaps it’s the reminder of Grandpa Tyler, the bond that ultimately brought Charles and I together. He mentored us both, after all, and is the reason I became a real estate agent and started my own company. Not that I needed to with the immense fortune he left behind from his own investments, but because it’s what I wanted. And working for Charles has been a natural extension of that journey. The bond we’ve already formed is irreplaceable, and perhaps also a contributing factor to my emotional response.
“No doubt,” Charles responds softly, smiling. “Thank you for saying that. All of it. You are resilient as always, my dear, and I’m glad to hear you’re happy to be here despite everything else.”
“How is the rest of your family faring?” I ask curiously. I don’t know much about Charles’ wife or his other two sons. But I imagine this is just as difficult for them.
Charles gives a small shrug. “His brothers are, as I was, unsurprised, given Daniel’s past issues. My wife has been struggling,” Charles admits, sighing deeply. “It’s been hardest on her, I think.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I murmur, looking down into my hands.
“I’d like you to meet them one day,” Charles responds. I look up, startled, though I shouldn’t be. I know he has big plans for me so it would only be natural. “But not now. For now, we have enough to be getting on with, I think.”
I glance at my watch. “Speaking of which,” I prompt him. He looks at his own watch, nodding in agreement and rising from his chair.
“Shall we?” he asks.
I smile widely, despite my lingering sorrow. “Lead the way,” I reply. He laughs, nods, and does just that.
And perhaps it’s my imagination, but the rest of the day seems to go more smoothly.
When Tristan drops me home in the evening, Bryce is already there. And he’s making dinner.
“The only thing that could make this better is if you were shirtless,” I tease him by way of greeting. He looks up from chopping carrots and smiles.
“Hey, you,” he replies, smiling back with his patented sunshine smile. “How was your day?”
I kick my shoes off and drop my bag on the counter, sinking into a chair at the bar. He leans across the counter to kiss me. “Better than I expected it to be,” I reply when he pulls away. “How was yours?”
He huffs a forced laugh. “A laugh a minute,” he replies sarcastically. “I’m starting to get why you were over being the boss.”
“That bad, huh?” I ask with a grimace.
He stops his chopping again to give me a look. “I probably shouldn’t complain. Things are going surprisingly well, considering,” he allows. “I didn’t think I’d be as on top of things as I am after just a month of running the company without Dad.”
“I told you. You’re the most capable guy I know,” I assure him. Then I add, with a sly smile, “But I think you need a massage after dinner. Full body.”
He doesn’t look up, but a smile slowly spreads across his face. “You’re just trying to get me to chop off a thumb, aren’t you?” he teases.
I put my hands up in defeat. “Fine, I’ll leave you to it then,” I accede. “I’m going to change.” But as I head up the stairs, I can’t help pausing and watching him work. And wondering how I got so damn lucky.
After dinner, Bryce is splayed out on the couch with his feet in my lap as I rub firm strokes up and down his soles.
“So I forgot to mention something,” he murmurs, opening his eyes. “They set a trial date today. For Daniel Sutton.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “And you’re just now telling me? When?” I demand.
He shrugs. “Sorry, it slipped my mind. And then you started rubbing me,” he smiles provocatively. “It starts in two weeks.”
I continue working his instep as I process that. “I should check in with Heather soon,” I murmur. I haven’t talked to Heather Irving, my former employee and Daniel Sutton’s victim, in a few weeks. I’m a little surprised I haven’t heard from her actually, but I’m sure she’s got enough on her plate.
Bryce nods. “Probably a good idea,” he agrees. “But for now, I have other plans.” He gently pulls his foot out of my grasp and sits up. He scoots along the couch until he’s right in front of me. Slowly, he leans in and nuzzles his nose against mine. I can’t help grinning like an idiot.
“Hi,” I say shyly.
“Did you know your eye color changes from light brown to hazel to pretty much full-on green?” he asks, looking deeply into my eyes.
I laugh. “It’s like a mood ring,” I reply. “Or a happiness scale, actually.”
“I hope green means happy, because that’s what they are right now,” he says.
“It might,” I say evasively, blushing.
“Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully. “Let’s see how green they can get.” He kisses me softly, and the feeling of his mouth on mine wipes all thought from my brain. He pulls away and stares into my eyes again. “Not bad, but I think we can do better.” Suddenly he grabs me, lifting me over his shoulder and rising from the couch. I squeal with surprise as he carries me out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Bryce! Holy crap!” I shout.
He smacks me playfully on the backside. “You know you like it, woman,” he responds. But he sets me down at the top of the stairs anyway. At first I think he’s acknowledging my obvious displeasure at being moved bodily, but I quickly realize as he starts kissing me and pulling at my clothes as he pushes me toward the bedroom that it was a necessary step toward getting me naked as fast as possible. And that, I don’t mind.