Chapter 11

ELEVEN

I sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor of my living room—well, the cottage's living room. In truth, I was coming to think of this place as mine, which was dangerous. I stroked the silky ears of my writing buddy, Bruce, whose massive head was in my lap.

The chocolate Newfoundland kept breaking away from Kelly and Judy's place a few streets over and wandering over to my cottage so often, I just ended up keeping him with me most days.

He'd interrupted my yoga practice, as he usually did.

As far as I was concerned, the dog's soft snores were just as calming as a full thirty minutes of the Hatha yoga my therapist had prescribed. The only nice thing about it was finding all the muscles I didn't realize I had hiding under my perpetually-behind-the-desk body.

There was a nice breeze coming in from the open back door. Central New York was enjoying an unseasonably warm start to October. The sun was slashing across the cushy, colorful rug I'd picked up at Ladybug Treasures in town. I loved the hardwood floors of the cottage, but my yoga mat was not protecting my poor tailbone, that was for sure.

I rolled onto my back, and Bruce inched over to lay his head on my middle. His huge, soulful dark eyes were trained on me—always. I went back to stroking his soft ears idly as my mind wandered to a few ideas I had for the workshop.

I was no teacher, nor had I any desire to become one. Colette, in her infinite wisdom, had collected email addresses with the raffle ticket numbers at the register when people checked out. She definitely had the chops to expand her business to a full-fledged bookstore.

She was clever and her marketing wisdom was wasted on a small town. At least, I would have thought that last month. Now that the slow pace of Crescent Cove was smoothing out the rest of my nerves, I saw the appeal of her location. And the crush of people that had shown out the week before for the signing was proof that people would travel if they wanted to see the authors—or artists—enough.

Add in her obvious prowess on socials, and I had every confidence she'd be right up there with the shops in New York City.

Because she wanted it.

I remembered that fire.

Slowly, I sat up and Bruce harrumphed his displeasure until he realized I was heading for the kitchen. He happily followed, hoping for a treat. As was our ritual, I made breakfast and shared with the beast of a dog. Blueberries and bacon were his particular favorite—and mine too. The local orchard sold some flash frozen fruit as they were unloading the last of their harvest to make room for the apples.

Have phone, will order for pickup.

Pickup was the norm here in Crescent Cove over delivery.

In fact, as I checked my phone, my grocery order was ready for pickup. Bruce sat in front of me, his head resting on my middle as always. It helped that he was so dang tall. I was beginning to learn his tells—this one meant it was time for a potty break.

I crossed to the back door, shoving my feet in my Crocs as I opened the slider. Instead of letting him roam on his own, I followed him out for a bit of sunshine. The Black-Eyed Susans were on their last legs, but I was able to pick out a few for the vase I kept by my computer at the kitchen table.

I laughed as he romped through the flowers to the wide stretch of grass on the hill by the lookout to the lake. Suddenly, he barked like a lunatic and galloped toward the road and up the lane.

"Bruce, wait!" There wasn't much traffic on the street, but I still worried about him.

"Hey, buddy." A male voice floated down from on the hill where a larger lake house was. There hadn't been anyone up there since I arrived. Maybe the owner was finally home.

With my flowers clutched in my hand, I climbed the winding lane after the dog. When I cleared the overgrown bushes, I spotted a pair of boots and jeans, and not much else as Bruce was laying on top of the man. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry." Flowers floating down, forgotten, around my feet, I rushed forward.

"Get off me, you cow!" Penn swiped his cheek with his forearm against the shower of drool. But he was laughing, and he didn't sound upset. He peered around Bruce's massive body and copious amount of fur. "Rita?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly very cognizant of the fact that I'd run after Bruce in only my yoga gear. The black racerback tank was low-cut, showing off my lime green sports bra which matched my yoga pants. And while it was a lovely fall day, I'd been sweating and now all sorts of things were…tight.

Penn pushed the horse-sized dog off, who immediately thought he was playing and pounced again, this time nailing him in the balls.

I couldn't stop the laugh from bursting free as he rolled into a fetal position.

Bruce, undeterred, shoved his big nose into the space between Penn's neck and shoulder, snuffling and biting playfully.

"Off! What is it with dogs and my balls?" Penn muttered, but he was laughing even as he rolled further into his shrimp status.

Not sure what that meant, I took mercy on him and dug through Bruce's dense fur for his collar to haul him off. "Nice shot, Bruce."

"Gee, thanks." Penn's sunglasses had flown off during the tackle, and his dark eyes were narrowed against the sun. He held up a hand since the sun was behind me. "Nice outfit, Rita."

Annoyed that I'd forgotten again what I was wearing, I shifted the shirt up to cover. Not that the sports bra was showing off much, but it was the lifting kind instead of the straight boob smush. However, it did accentuate my less than stellar breast size.

As if it matters, he already had his mouth on your breasts last week.

Shoving that thought aside, I staggered a little when Bruce gave me the hard hug lean. "Good job, buddy. That man needed a good…" I trailed off as Penn rolled easily to his feet. He was also dressed for the lovely day with a tight black T-shirt that had probably seen a thousand washes. The neckline was stretched out and his beard had grown exponentially since I'd last seen him. He wore a flannel shirt, tied around his waist, leaves stuck to the fabric.

I noticed the dark bags under his eyes before he shoved his sunglasses back on.

For the first time, guilt crept into me. I wasn't a shitty sort of person, but something about this man brought it out in me. Not only for the shot against my writing—I was used to that. Being a romance author was not for the faint of heart.

We might be at the top of the food chain when it came to sales, but some of the other authors out there looked down their nose at our books. Penn was no different, but it cut harder that he'd said it right after we'd been so intimate.

Intimate in ways I had never been.

I'd had relationships—safe, predictable ones. The chaos of my childhood through my early twenties was a full-on deterrent for anything other than safe.

And hooking up with a near stranger was far too reminiscent of the days when I'd been less than careful or smart.

"What are you doing up here?"

Penn pushed his wild curls out of his face, but the windy fall day wouldn't cooperate, blowing his hair right back around his face. God, he was objectively gorgeous.

That full lower lip that peeked from his beard dragged memories of just how adept he was with it. My body, my mouth…the rest of me.

My clit pulsed with the sensory memory.

It had been a damn long time since anyone had been attentive in that respect, as well. Safe, vanilla sex was much more on par with my last three partners.

Three in the last eight years, no less.

I wasn't exactly Miss Prowess when it came to naked time.

He shoved his hair back again, pulling it into a thick tail with a band at his wrist before vaguely gesturing behind him. "My brother's place. I was checking in on it since he'll be back in town soon." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "And for some quiet. My parents' house isn't exactly low key."

"Ahh." I didn't know what that was like. Currently, my life was the definition of quiet and even. Well, other than the absolute upheaval of my professional life.

No big deal.

"Well, I'll just get this big guy back down to my place."

"You're renting out Judy and Kelly's place?"

I sighed and put my hands on my hips. "Everyone seems to know it."

He shrugged. "In a small town, everyone is in your business. I'm sure you've noticed since the signing." He rocked back on his heels. "The grapevine has been very curious as to what happened and why."

"Nothing happened. We just made the best of the situation with Officer Masterson."

His jaw ticked, the muscle flexing under the beard. "My brother can be a bit of a hardline kind of guy."

"I'm well aware."

His eyebrow arched. "He's married."

I couldn't stop the smirk. "Too bad."

The flexing muscle increased. Interesting. "Sorry to say, working your way through the Mastersons will not work. They're mostly married, my sister included."

"Oh, there's another one? Is he more charming than you? What's his name?"

His nostrils flared.

"That's okay. Seems I have a whole small town to work through." My voice was ice. "What's it to you?"

He stalked my way. "You know very well why."

I held my ground, my stupid clit pounding along with the heartbeat thundering in my head. "It was just sex, Penn. Only place we actually work as we've found out. I don't think I actually like you."

"You liked me when my mouth was on your?—"

I held a hand up. "Before I knew the real Penn."

"That's not the real me." He halted a few steps away from me.

"Isn't it though? You told me what you think about my writing, and my fans. All I needed to know." I laid my hand on top of Bruce's head as he leaned harder on me at the anger in our voices. "But we have to work together for the workshop. You make your curriculum, and I'll make mine, hopefully somewhere we'll meet in the middle."

"Curriculum? It's an impromptu workshop."

"What? You're just going to stand up there and talk at them? Good luck there." I turned to go back to my house. The wind was picking up off the water and my arms were covered in chill bumps. And I didn't even want to think about my traitorous nipples.

It was just a heightened response, that was all.

"Wait." He hustled after me. I heard the snap of fabric then he settled his flannel over my shoulders. The instant bonfire scent of him wrapped around me which didn't help my current situation. "Let's talk about it since I'm here. Unless you have to be somewhere." He walked next to me, keeping pace.

Bruce trotted along after us, happy we were finished fighting.

"Fine." I sighed. It was probably better to talk this out than to go in there blind in a little more than a month.

I glanced back at the flowers strewn across the path. It wasn't worth trying to salvage them. They'd already been so fragile.

He frowned at them. "Yours?"

"Doesn't matter. I dropped them chasing after Bruce." And being distracted by Penn. Increasing my pace, I shuffled my way down the incline of the lane back to the cottage.

There was no conversation between us and the tension increased. Why did I get my back up so fast with him? Was it just because I wasn't used to being around people?

No .

No, that wasn't it. I was just fine shopping and chatting my way through Main Street almost every day. The shops were so individualized in Crescent Cove that I couldn't resist the browse. Which was weird, because I was generally an online shopper, but I found myself walking a whole lot since I'd gotten to this town.

I opened the sliding door, leaving him and Bruce to follow me inside. "Want some coffee?"

"I wouldn't say no. As long as it's not laced with arsenic."

I glanced over my shoulder. "Fresh out. I'll put it on my shopping list, though."

He laughed. "So, yoga?"

I slipped off his flannel and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair. I needed to reset again. Having him around me, both his warmth and his scent threw me off. "You're very astute."

He tucked his sunglasses into his collar, then he rolled his eyes and dropped onto the couch across from my mat. "I'm trying to have a normal conversation here."

"And yet, you're supposedly an author in some regard, I've heard. Can't get more original?"

He rested his head on the back cushion and stared at the ceiling. "I'll just shut up. You can tell me about your ideas, and then I'll leave."

I sighed as I set my kettle to boil. "No. You're right. I apologize."

He lifted his head. "What was that?"

I pulled out my beans to grind. "Watch it or I won't share the glory that is Brewed Awakening's beans."

"Oh, you've been assimilated, huh?" He stood and crossed to the kitchen. It was a galley style with cabinets against the one wall, along with a fridge. A small island sat in the middle of the space where I'd set up my pour over unit I'd purchased from Ladybug Treasures. It looked like it belonged in a chemistry set, and I was kinda in love with it.

"Fancy," he said as he leaned on the opposite side of the island. "I personally love to tell Macy I'm going to put her grounds in a K-cup to watch her melt down."

I snorted. "You do not."

He propped his head on his hand. "You're right. I usually ask for an obscene amount of beans before I go back to the city. I just use a drip coffee maker. Have you ever seen that dude on TikTok that drinks right from the carafe with the crazy straw?"

"Can't say I have."

"That could be me. Biggest mug you've got."

"Understood." I did my first pour, letting the grounds soak as I went back to the cabinet. There were a fair number of white mugs inside that came with the cottage, but I'd also been lured by the fun ones I'd found with the rest of my recent purchases. I plucked the bowl-sized one with the frazzled cat on the front for Penn and a rainbow farting unicorn for mine. "Good enough?"

"Oh, yeah. Gimme, man. Which blend?" He drew in a deep breath. "Wait, don't tell me. Her Witches Brew blend."

"Got it in one."

"My favorite. She only makes it in October. How'd you score some already?"

"Just happened to get some yesterday when I ran out."

"So, what was your previous poison?"

Such a normal conversation, and part of me wanted to snap my damn mouth shut and keep with the anger, but that wouldn't help anyone. "Pumpkin Spice, I'm afraid."

"Ahh, well. I won't hold it against you since it's also one of my faves." He waggled his eyebrows. With his hair caught back in a tail, his angular face was even more striking. The blade of his nose and expressive brows gave his face a hawkish look that accentuated his intelligent brown eyes. He straightened. "Need help?"

"No, I'm good."

He wandered over to the kitchen table by the window. "Did you buy out the office supply store?"

"I didn't pack all my usual supplies." Annoyed that I'd shared that, I focused on pouring slowly. "But I think I prefer paper and pen now. I used to do everything on my iPad."

"Huh." He put his hands on his hips and tipped his head to the side. "Is this your storyboard or for the workshop?"

"Sugar, cream?"

He didn't look away from the board. "One sugar, no cream," he said absently.

Once the brewing was done enough for both of us, I transferred to mugs and wandered over to stand by him. I handed him the bowl-sized mug. "Mostly the workshop. Pink sticky notes are maybes. Yellows mean probably, and the whites are definites."

He took a sip, and the humming groan he released made me wish for the flannel again, dammit.

"Good stuff. I wasn't sure when I saw the chemistry set."

I laughed. "Right? Exactly why I bought it. I have a boring one at home."

He grinned down at me. "You can make me coffee anytime."

"You wish." I focused on the board and not my jittering girl parts that were willing to misbehave times eleven.

"I didn't know they made white sticky notes," he said idly. "Nice introduction stuff, though. I'm sure a lot of them are either fan fiction writers or dabblers."

"Not one in the same?"

He took another deep drink and hummed. "Hell, no. Fan fiction is where it's at for a lot of writers. Me when I was in high school before I created my own character."

"Oh, really?"

"And you didn't?'

"No. I didn't watch television. Though I suppose I could have done some fanfiction for books I read. God, I lived for books."

"What do you mean you didn't watch television?"

I shrugged. "Just didn't." I stepped forward and plucked off one of the sticky notes I'd put on the wall. There was a forest of them in separate sections. "What about this?" I handed it to him.

"Your handwriting is worse than mine." He glanced at me with an arched brow. "We'll revisit television."

I did not want to revisit it, thanks. I already didn't know how to deal with Penn on many different levels, I didn't want to add in the pity he'd probably show me once he found out I was a foster kid.

"Don't worry, I'm well-versed in television now." It was the only thing that helped me survive for most of this year. Binge watching all the streaming services had been my lifeline.

"We'll have to swap lists."

"Why?"

Dammit. The kneejerk asshole reaction was so close to the surface.

"Because I'm interested in your brain as much as your phenomenal body, Rita Savage."

"Unlikely. Back to the workshop. Do you want to do it together or separately?" Separately was my instinctive response before he could weigh in, but I swallowed it. "Or would you be slighted if I had more people?"

He blinked, then he gave me an exasperated laugh. "The blade goes deep with you, Duchess."

I jerked back a step. "Don't call me that."

"Why? That icy tone in your voice is very regal. Fits."

"No, it doesn't." I walked away from him before I did something stupid like toss my life-giving coffee in his stupid face.

Nothing about me was regal or elegant. I was probably better named for a wasp at the moment. I couldn't quite control the annoyance, and I was ready to sting unprovoked.

"Hey. It's just a nickname." He followed me, setting his mug down on the island with a snap. "Can you just tell me what it is that I do to piss you off so easily?"

"Look, maybe you should just go." I gripped the counter beside the fridge, the toaster oven blurring with my anger. It didn't have anywhere to go and was so stupid to have ripped into him. Why would he call some foster kid who didn't know her mother or father a duchess?

And why did it matter?

I wasn't usually this touchy, for God's sake.

It's not like he knew anything about me except how to unlock my usually stubborn orgasms.

"No, we should figure this out. How the hell are we going to do the workshop together if you want to rip my head off for breathing wrong?" He came up behind me, cupping my upper arms. "Maybe it's not about me at all."

I whirled around, knocking his hands off me. I tapped my finger into the center of his chest. "Oh, it's about you."

"I don't think so, Duchess."

"Stop calling me that." I drove him back a step, until he simply stopped, and I crashed into him.

He slid his fingers into my hair, flicking away the tie until my hair fell around my face. "It's what you are to me."

"It's not," I whispered. "It's not who I am."

"Oh, but I'd say you are. I've read up about you, Rita. You and your co-writer are New York Times Bestsellers. Do you know how hard that is to do when you're not traditionally published?"

"Traditional print only," I said shortly.

"Exactly. You guys played the game and won all the prizes."

He gripped my hair at the base of my skull and my nipples instantly tightened. God, that was so good. Why did this man, of any of them that had ever touched me, make me burn like this?

"Duchess suits you better because you're nobility in the genre."

I gripped his wrist. "I'm not."

"Oh, but you are."

"Not anymore!" I yelled. My chest heaved. "Not anymore," I repeated in a whisper. "Nothing is like it was anymore."

"Why?" His dark eyes went from hot to simmering. "Why?" His touch gentled. "Rita?"

I didn't want to talk about the crappy turn my life had taken. That I was unwanted again. That my career could be in shambles because I'd chosen myself for the first time in my whole goddamn life.

That I didn't pick the known path and let Jenelle have it.

I let his wrist go and reached for his neck, dragging his mouth down to mine. I didn't want to think.

I was so fucking tired of thinking.

He stilled, his mouth on mine, his whole body taut for a single moment. I almost stepped back, then he crushed me to him. That firm hand on my hair again, and the other arm wrapped around me until there was nothing between us but clothing.

He drew in a soul-deep breath as he kissed me. It was different from the storeroom. I knew him now, knew the shape of him even if I wanted to learn the rest.

Here in this sanctuary I'd chosen for myself?

I wasn't sure I wanted it tainted with someone else, but he tasted too good. Felt too glorious.

I hooked my arm around his neck and went onto the tips of my toes. "Upstairs," I said against his mouth.

He hiked me up another scant inch, and instinctively, I locked my ankles around the back of him, kicking off my shoes.

"I can walk," I said against his marauding mouth. He didn't let me even think about a breath. Maybe he was just as wild as I was.

Wouldn't that be something?

To be on an even playing field with passion.

He just gripped my ass and strode for the stairs, never stopping the drugging kisses. We bounced against the walls on the way up the narrow stairs.

I hissed as my shoulder glanced off the corner of the wall, but I was lost to the runaway train we'd become. Gaining speed with every single kiss and touch.

I cupped his face as we got to the top of the stairs and sunlight highlighted his curls that had escaped his tail and my questing fingers.

He slowed, his breath a bit labored from carrying me up the stairs. "Are you sure?"

"Shut up. I don't want to talk."

"You got it, Duchess."

I whipped the black band out of his hair and dropped it. "Stop calling me that." His wild curls unfurled, and I couldn't stop myself from burying my fingers in all that glory.

He hurried through the hall to the door at the end. "Here?"

"Yes," I muttered. "Yes, yes, yes," I chanted as he strode through the door and lowered me onto the bed. The duvet was pulled up and the pillow soft fabric cupped my back and shoulders as we sunk down together.

"I don't know that I can go slow at the moment."

"I don't want slow."

He scraped his teeth over my shoulder, pushing at the strap of my bra and tank. "Good. I want to taste everything, but I need to get inside you. I can't even think around it."

"Then stop talking and thinking. I don't want to think at all."

He pushed himself down the bed and shoved at the tank top I was wearing. "Off."

"Off," I nodded. "Definitely off." Then I froze, with my hands on his shoulders. "I definitely was working out a little while ago."

He dragged his nose over my belly, dragging at the yoga pants. "I don't care." He grinned up at me, those curls around his face. "Lift."

I lifted my hips, and he tossed aside my pants, falling on me with absolute focus and freaking mastery. I arched up off the bed as his mouth covered me, his tongue lashing between my folds then arrowed up so he could suck on my clit.

He held onto my hips, his fingers nearly bruising and God, it was perfect. I'd never felt so wanted until he touched me.

And the ever-present whirring thoughts were swallowed by the dark abyss of absolute pleasure. He drove me up, then he wouldn't let me go over. Again, and again, he pushed for me to give him more.

I dug my heels into the duvet, the other into his shoulder as he spread me wide. He added his fingers, plunging deeper with every pass until I was a wreck of wet sounds and uninhibited screams.

"That's it, Duchess. Your taste drives me crazy." He sucked on my inner thigh as he turned his fingers and reached inside of me until there was nothing but him surrounding me, inside and out.

"Penn." My voice was hoarse as I dug my nails into his shoulders. The sunny room narrowed into just him. Just his mouth on mine, his fingers on me, inside of me, finding every corner of pleasure I never knew existed.

Finally, he climbed up, over me and covered my mouth with his again. "Your taste is like a drug. There aren't words in my head for it." He raced over my neck to my chest, ripping at the buckles and Velcro of the sports bra until I was free of it.

I pushed at his shirt. I didn't know what he looked like. The storage room had been dim, and we'd kept most of our clothes on.

A mistake, I was beginning to see now.

He flipped off my bra, then he went back to biting and sucking on my breasts, nipples, even the underside with his endlessly talented tongue. The overwhelm had me buzzing, but I wanted more.

He slid a knee between my thighs, the denim abrading my already wildly sensitive skin. Then he caught my hands and lifted them over his head.

I arched under him. Crazed from his edging and teasing until I was sure I was more animal than woman. Lightly, he brushed his chest hair against my breasts, watching me as I undulated under him restlessly.

"So fucking amazing." Again and again, he just endlessly teased me until there was nothing but him.

I hooked my knee over his hip. "Fuck me."

"This goes beyond fucking and you know it." He buried his face in my neck and tugged on my ear. "This is elemental."

It was.

I didn't want to name it.

I wanted it to just be mindless fucking.

It wasn't.

And it scared me so fucking much.

He jerked at his jeans, and I tried to free my wrists. "Penn."

He rubbed against my pussy. I could feel him through the cotton and wanted more. The rough hair at the base of his belly scraped over my skin and the friction made me hold onto him tighter with all that was available to me.

I dug my heel into his ass.

"Wait."

"I'm done waiting." I bucked under him.

He shifted against me, his other hand digging into his pocket. "Fuck. Duchess, you're so fucking wet for me I'm going to wear you home on my jeans."

"Then get them off."

He laughed and I felt something brush my hip. He flipped it open, still rocking against me.

"Let my hands go and I'll help you, dammit."

"No." His dark eyes were nearly black with lust.

I seethed out a harsh breath as I tried to work down his damn jeans with my feet.

"You are so fucking bendy but give me a second." He slid free from his boxers as I got his jeans down another few inches. The hot, hard length of his shaft slid through my wetness and he froze. "God. I want to just dip inside you. Just for a second to see what it feels like."

He lowered his forehead to mine, lightly grazing every vein of his cock along my pussy. "Fuck, fuck." He jerked back and the sound of a wrapper dented the waves of rushing blood that had taken over my brain.

Then he was there.

Then he was inside.

And I sobbed out, "Thank God."

He held me down and drove into me again and again, bottoming out inside of me until there was no space. I squeezed down on him with each return pass until he swore and dug for better purchase.

"You're squeezing me so fucking good," he said against my mouth. "Like you were made for me."

I frowned, and the staggering fog of lust dissipated for a moment, but then he let my wrists go and rolled until I was on top.

"Ride me, Duchess."

I didn't need to be told twice. The name echoed and attached to the deep, drugging bliss. I took him inside again and again, deeper than anyone had ever been.

No.

No, that couldn't be true. My mind wanted to fight against it.

That it was just sex.

Nothing more.

His grip heightened on my hip, then his other hand slid between us to push me ever closer to the release he'd been denying from me, and I just didn't think again.

I chased the high of the orgasm. I closed my eyes and focused on that. That was safer.

Then he reared up and his other hand slid away from my hip to catch the back of my head. "Duchess. Eyes on me."

My eyes flew open as my whole body locked. I cried out and simply shattered. He lifted his hips, driving up inside of me as sweat dripped from his temples and wet his hair.

Pure, unimaginable pleasure wrapped around me, and when I came back to myself, I realized that it wasn't simply pleasure.

It was Penn holding me tight.