EPILOGUE
Six weeks later…
Their doctors’ orders were crystal clear: After being sent home from the transplant center with matching five-inch scars, Taylor and Justin were supposed to take it easy to ensure the best possible recovery. They were strictly forbidden to lift anything heavier than ten pounds. They needed to eat nourishing food filled with vitamins. And getting eight hours of sleep every night was imperative.
Only, after six weeks of good behavior, it was getting harder and harder for Taylor to fall asleep at night. Of course she loved how Justin held her in his arms, stroking her hair as he coaxed her to fall asleep. But in some ways, that made her insomnia worse—she longed for him to stroke more than just her hair. Maybe she was being melodramatic, but she swore her skin actually ached for his touch.
Tonight was the first night her B&B was empty since she had opened for business. It would fill up tomorrow afternoon, but for one night, she had Justin all to herself, with no chance of anyone interrupting them. And she was bound and determined to make the most of every second with her husband.
She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, making sure everything was in place, before she headed out of her bedroom, picking up the box on the kitchen counter on her way out to the garden.
Justin was trimming the lavender plants around the edges of her garden, and the scent was heady. Nowhere near as heady, however, as the sight of the man she loved working in the fading sunlight with no shirt on and a pair of jeans slung low on his hips.
God, he was gorgeous. And even though it was still hard to believe—all hers.
Finally, he spotted her, doing a double take and nearly dropping his shears. “Taylor?”
Gratified at the way he barely got out her name, she continued to make her way across the garden to him, only pausing to put the box on the table beneath the pergola. “I was thinking it would be nice to take a break and share a little treat in the garden.”
“A treat?” Again, his words were hoarse. And his eyes were huge as he ran them down, then back up, her body. “You’re gorgeous.”
After so many years of thinking Justin would never be interested in her, it was gratifying to know that he would always think she was beautiful, no matter what she was wearing, whether or not she had makeup on, or had even brushed her hair. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to knock his socks off from time to time.
Earlier in the week, she’d gone into the lingerie shop on Main Street and made a purchase. Her cheeks had flamed the entire time—the woman ringing her up had to know what her intentions were for something so sheer, so daring. But a few moments of embarrassment in front of a stranger were well worth it if it meant she could convince Justin that their convalescence should be nothing more than a distant memory.
“So are you,” she said, her voice husky at the thought of all the delicious things she wanted to do to him.
She took the shears from his hands and put them down, then slid her fingers through his and led him over to the outdoor table. Once there, she all but pushed him onto the cushioned seat, then climbed onto his lap so that she was straddling him.
Quickly, she reached for the box and opened it up. “Doughnut?” She held up the enormous chocolate confection, not waiting for his response before lifting it to her lips and taking a bite.
Mmmm, it was good, the perfect hit of sugar, the only “bad” thing she’d had to eat in weeks. But it was so much better when Justin threaded one hand into her hair, then pulled her mouth down to his and licked the chocolate off her lips.
“Want another bite?” Her head was spinning when he finally let her mouth go, and not from the sugar rush. This rush was all Justin.
“Hell yes. But not of the doughnut.” He put it back in the box. “You’re the only treat I want.” His free hand slid over her hips to pull her closer, and she moaned softly at the feel of him between her thighs. “I’ve been counting the days. Six weeks is a hell of a long time.”
“Too long,” she agreed as she tried to get even closer. “What do you suggest we do about it?”
“Funny you should ask,” he said, his eyes lit with a wicked gleam. “Because I’ve had a fantasy ever since the day you first brought me out into this garden.”
“Tell me more.” It was one of her favorite games, where they told each other one of their fantasies and then made it come true.
“It’s more of a show and tell,” he replied. “First, I show you how much I adore you…and then you tell me you love me too.”
“I love you.” She whispered the words against his lips before kissing him to prove just how much she meant it.
Both of them were gasping for air by the time he said, “I haven’t adored you yet.”
“Yes, you have. Every day, every hour, every second.”
“True.” He dropped his hand from her hair to the lacing at the back of her nearly sheer corset. “I hope you’re up for more.”
“Alway—” But she couldn’t get the full word out, not when he’d managed to unlace the corset in record time and her breasts were springing free, right into his waiting mouth.
This time, she was the one holding on to his hair as she writhed over him. She couldn’t keep from moving against him, the sheer lace of her panties scraping his jeans over her skin in the most delicious way.
He lifted his lips from her skin, her breasts as sensitive and aroused as they’d ever been. “Come for me.” He brought both hands to her hips and rocked her even more firmly against him. “Just like this.”
She’d never imagined doing anything this naughty outside of the privacy of their cottage, but it turned out that outdoor sex was amazing. She knew no one was going to walk in on them in her backyard, but even the barest hint that they might get caught ratcheted the heat between them even higher.
His lips closed over the taut peak of one breast at the same moment that he shifted his hips up into hers. He knew exactly how to touch her, exactly how to give her pleasure unlike any other. And after a month and a half of having to stop at kisses, she was primed and ready to go off like a rocket.
His name fell from her lips again and again as pleasure ricocheted through her. She’d only just begun to recover from the sheer bliss of her release—while foggily wondering if the neighbors might have heard her cry out—when Justin lifted her off his lap, just enough that he could unzip his jeans. She finally came out of her haze when she heard him rip open, then quickly slide on, protection.
She couldn’t wait to have him inside of her again—but when she was poised above him, they both stopped to stare into each other’s eyes.
“I love you, Taylor.”
The sweet shock of his hard heat moving into her took away any response she might have made. She’d thought she wanted to take him fast and hard, but it turned out that devastatingly slow and sensuous was exactly right for their first time together after so long. They teased each other past the point of no return, and if she’d thought her first climax was explosive…it had nothing on the fireworks they created holding each other tight, staring into each other’s eyes, and gasping out each other’s names, the neighbors completely forgotten.
For several minutes afterward, neither of them spoke, they simply held each other. “Who do you think will fall in love next?” When Justin blinked at her as he tried to make sense of her non sequitur, she explained, “Out of your siblings. I mean, Maddie is so much fun and so talented. And Grant is a heck of a catch. But then there’s Olivia, who might already be secretly in love, for all we know.”
“You don’t really expect me to answer now, do you? Because all I can think about is heading back to the cottage and telling you another one of my fantasies.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said, a little shiver going through her at his sexy words. But she didn’t get up off his lap. “I just hope they’re lucky enough to find what we have.” She looked down at the healing scars on their abdomens. “Minus a couple of these.”
At which point, Justin decided to chuck in plans to head back to the cottage, laid her on the nearby chaise longue, and kissed her, scars and all, until she forgot about anyone but him.
* * * * *
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Millions of readers around the world have fallen in love with Bella’s New York Times & USA Today bestselling series about The Sullivans! Please also enjoy the following excerpt from (The Sullivans, Book 1).
Chloe Peterson is having a bad night. A really bad night. The large bruise on her cheek can attest to that. And when her car skids off the side of a wet country road straight into a ditch, she’s convinced even the gorgeous guy who rescues her in the middle of the rain storm must be too good to be true. Or is he?
As a successful photographer who frequently travels around the world, Chase Sullivan has his pick of beautiful women, and whenever he’s home in San Francisco, one of his seven siblings is usually up for causing a little fun trouble. Chase thinks his life is great just as it is—until the night he finds Chloe and her totaled car on the side of the road in Napa Valley. Not only has Chase never met anyone so lovely, both inside and out, but he quickly realizes Chloe has much bigger problems than her damaged car. Soon, Chase is willing to move mountains to love—and protect—her, but will Chloe let him?
Chase almost missed the flickering light off on the right side of the two-lane country road. In the past thirty minutes, he hadn’t passed a single car, because on a night like this, most sane Californians—who didn’t know the first thing about driving safely in inclement weather—stayed home.
Knowing better than to slam on the brakes—he wouldn’t be able to help whomever was stranded on the side of the road if he ended up stuck in the muddy ditch right next to them—Chase slowed down enough to see that there was definitely a vehicle stuck in the ditch.
He turned his brights on to see better in the pouring rain and realized there was a person walking along the edge of the road about a hundred yards up ahead. Obviously hearing his car approach, she turned to face him and he could see her long wet hair whipping around her shoulders in his headlights.
Wondering why she wasn’t just sitting in her car, dry and warm, calling Triple A and waiting for them to come save her, he pulled over to the edge of his lane and got out to try and help her. She was shivering as she watched him approach.
“Are you hurt?”
She covered her cheek with one hand, but shook her head. “No.”
He had to move closer to hear her over the sound of the water hitting the pavement in what were rapidly becoming hailstones. Even though he’d turned his headlights off, as his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, he was able to get a better look at her face.
Something inside of Chase’s chest clenched tight.
Despite the long, dark hair plastered to her head and chest, regardless of the fact that looking like a drowned rat wasn’t too far off the descriptive mark, her beauty stunned him.
In an instant, his photographer’s eye cataloged her features. Her mouth was a little too big, her eyes a little too wide-set on her face. She wasn’t even close to model thin, but given the way her T-shirt and jeans stuck to her skin, he could see that she wore her lush curves well. In the dark he couldn’t judge the exact color of her hair, but it looked like silk, perfectly smooth and straight where it lay over her breasts.
It wasn’t until Chase heard her say, “My car is definitely hurt, though,” that he realized he had completely lost the thread of what he’d come out here to do.
Knowing he’d been drinking her in like he was dying of thirst, he worked to recover his balance. He could already see he’d been right about her car. It didn’t take a mechanic like his brother, Zach, who owned an auto shop—more like forty, but Chase had stopped counting years ago—to see that her shitty hatchback was borderline totaled. Even if the front bumper wasn’t half smashed to pieces by the white farm fence she’d slid into, her bald tires weren’t going to get any traction on the mud. Not tonight, anyway.
If her car had been in a less precarious situation, he probably would have sent her to hang out in her car while he took care of getting it unstuck. But one of her back tires was hanging precariously over the edge of the ditch.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Get in my car. We can wait there for a tow truck.” He was vaguely aware of his words coming out like an order, but the hail was starting to sting, damn it. Both of them needed to get out of the rain before they froze.
But the woman didn’t move. Instead, she gave him a look that said he was a complete and utter nut-job.
“I’m not getting into your car.”
Realizing just how frightening it must be for a lone woman to end up stuck and alone in the middle of a dark road, Chase took a step back from her. He had to speak loudly enough for her to hear him over the hail.
“I’m not going to attack you. I swear I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
She all but flinched at the word attack and Chase’s radar started buzzing. He’d never been a magnet for troubled women, wasn’t the kind of guy who thrived on fixing wounded birds. But living with two sisters for so many years meant he could always tell when something was up.
And something was definitely up with this woman, beyond the fact that her car was half-stuck in a muddy ditch.
Wanting to make her feel safe, he held his hands up. “I swear on my father’s grave, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay to get into my car.” When she didn’t immediately say no again, he pressed his advantage with, “I just want to help you.” And he did. More than it made sense to want to help a stranger. “Please,” he said. “Let me help you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, hail hammering between them, around them, onto them. Chase found himself holding his breath, waiting for her decision. It shouldn’t matter to him what she decided.
But, for some strange reason, it did.
…Sample chapter from THE LOOK OF LOVE by Bella Andre © 2016