Gypsy Love: A Gypsy Beach Novel (10 page)

“I have no doubt, baby doll.” He swung open the door to Bandana Books and reveled in the blast of cold air from the air conditioning. If only he could somehow refrigerate his lust, all would be well. A sign on the wide front porch explained that there was Gypsy magic in this store as well. John hid his eye roll.

A magnetic force seemed to draw Arley into the bookstore. As horny as he was, he couldn’t help but smile. She inhaled deeply of the scent of paper, dust, coffee, and leather that filled the air.

“I love indie bookstores! You never know what you might find. They’re my favorite!”

John chuckled. Normally, he could spend hours in a bookstore himself, but right then his tastes were far more carnal. The entire shop would fit inside his condo, but it was stocked floor to ceiling with books. The aisles were so tight they couldn’t walk side by side. He followed along behind her, watching her trail her fingertips delicately over the spines. He watched her shoulders lower and a genuine smile form on her beautiful face. It was as if she were greeting old friends in the only place she’d ever belonged.

Ordering himself to leash his lust, he allowed himself to really watch her expression change from that forced determination of survival into one of pure bliss. She deserved that, and he felt badly he’d almost argued about coming in the bookstore.

“Look!” Her gasped awe shook him from his reverie. “They still carry Daddy’s books!” She was so transfixed by her father’s books she missed what was on the shelf directly above Dylan Copeland’s last novels.

“Not only your dad’s, sweetheart. Look.” He extracted four of her novels from the shelf.

That fevered heat that drove him wild colored her entire face as he studied the covers. “Uh, yeah.” She swallowed down what appeared to be shame. “Indie bookstores usually buy the books outright, so when the creditors pulled them they were allowed to sell what they had in stock.”

He nodded his understanding and stacked the copies of her novels in the crook of his elbow to be purchased. She was gnawing her lip in terror. He’d pulled out every stop he could get away with in public trying to figure out her preferences in bed and trying to warn her about his own. Nothing scared her. She wanted it all, but it appeared him reading her books was going to be her undoing.

“You’re not going to buy those?” It was half a command and half a desperate plea.

“I definitely am. I want to read your stuff, baby. I’m thrilled they’re here.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not nearly as good as my dad. He was a much better storyteller, and writer, and …”

“Arley,” he soothed. He placed his thumb over her lips and cradled her face in his available hand. “Stop downplaying your work. You’re an amazing author. Look at these. You did this. Be proud of your work. I know I am.”

His vow seemed to shock her. Clearly, since her father had passed no one had expressed pride over her work. Fury at her family welled within him, but more than that, absolute hatred at whomever Chase Masters was burned inside of him. How did you date a woman like Arley for six fucking months and never tell her how proud you were of her? Asshole was clearly intimidated, as he should have been. She was far too much for him, far more then he deserved. She was too smart, too beautiful, too real, and he couldn’t handle it. Instead of manning up and becoming someone that would have deserved her, he chose to tear her down. Unmitigated rage had John clenching his jaw and vowing to find Chase and let his fists do a little talking. He shook off the fury. She needed him, and he wouldn’t be the kind of man that let her down. He would prove himself on every level.

“That’s my favorite book of your dad’s. I own like four copies.” He pointed to the large print edition of
The Man of Wellington.

“That’s my favorite, too.” She grinned and blinked away tears simultaneously. “I remember when he wrote it. He stayed up night after night for weeks, completely obsessed. I don’t remember him ever working like that on any other book. He was usually so methodic.”

John leaned and brushed a tender kiss across her forehead as he wiped away the few tears that escaped. “Come here to me.” He drew her into his embrace, giving her a place to hide from the world that had treated her cruelly.

“Can I help you find anything?” A woman with a long Gypsy bandana on her head and a store apron hung around her waist stopped on the end of the aisle where they were embracing. She offered Arley a kind, sympathetic smile. “Oh, here.” She raced towards the back room and returned a moment later with several tissues.

“Thanks.” Arley accepted the kind gift and blotted her eyes.

“Oh my gosh!” The woman exclaimed. “You’re Arley Copeland!”

“You know who I am?” Arley shrank back into John as if she were about to be rebuked.

“I’ve read all of your books. You’re one of my favorite authors! I have my copy of
Night
Riders
up at the counter. Don’t tell anyone, but I snuck it out of our stockroom before it was officially released. I couldn’t wait! Would you mind signing it for me?”

John beamed. He seriously doubted all of that Gypsy magic lore that floated around the little town from all of its residents, but if somehow it was Gypsy magic that had led them to the bookstore, he was infinitely thankful. She clearly needed to hear that a whole lot more than she thought she did.

“Sure, I’d be glad to.” Arley and John followed the woman to the registers. She produced two of Arley’s novels from under the counter and handed her a Sharpie marker.

“What’s your name?”

“Hope. Thank you so much for doing this. If I’d known you were going to be in town, I would have set up a signing. All of my friends love your books! They’re so sexy.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like them, but I couldn’t have gotten any books in to do a signing.” Arley sighed.

Hope’s face fell. “You’re still writing aren’t you? Every book gets better and better.”

Delighted, John stepped in. “She’s still writing. No worries. I’ll see to it myself.”

Arley gifted him with another one of those broad beaming grins.

By the time they’d made their way out of the shop, the storm had arrived. Water poured down from the Bandana Books’ eaves that clearly needed to be repaired. It obscured the ocean that was churning out its fierce disagreement with the weather. John grimaced. The sky was a solid gray and it didn’t appear that there would be any reprieve any time soon.

“Here, sweetheart. You go back inside. I’ll run back and get my car. I’ll be right back to get you.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. Peace and purpose filled him in equal measure. He cradled her in his arms on the porch, keeping her away from the deluge and the wind. “I’ve got you.”

“I know. Thank you for today, and for last night. Thank you for everything, but you don’t have to go get your car. I love the rain, actually. It’s my favorite weather to write in. I love the fact that its cadence changes, but its purpose never does.”

“Yeah, but writing in it is different than running in it. You’ll be drenched. I promise I’ll be right back to pick you up.”

She brushed her lips across his with a sweet giggle, and then took off out into the downpour. Shaking his head, he secured her books in the plastic bags and raced after her. By the time they made it back to the other end of the beach, her hair was sticking to her flushed cheeks, her body was thoroughly soaked, she was gasping for breath, and the thin sundress she was wearing clung to her ample curves. She wasn’t the kind of girl that existed only in the sunlight, a fleeting effect never meant to last, like some kind of shooting star. No, she wanted to dance in the rain, feel the cool drops caress her skin and the earth beneath her feet. She wanted to live fully, and in that moment, he knew she was the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

They flew up to the expansive front porch Ryan had constructed on the front of the Inn. John set their purchases on a nearby porch swing, wrapped her up in his arms, and consumed her mouth with greed. Raindrops trailed down from their hair, and she shivered in his arms.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you dried off.” When he finally released her, he took her hand and led her up to her suite.

She shivered violently when the door latch slipped into place. He wasn’t certain if she was freezing from the rain or frightened of him. “Do you want me to go, sweetheart?” He mentally lambasted himself for being a cocky, selfish, asshole most of the afternoon. She needed to be worshipped and cared for. There would be time for all of the kink they wanted to try later, but not now.

She shook her head and tried to quiet her chattering teeth. He brushed a tender kiss along her forehead. “Can I get you out of these wet clothes then?”

A timid smile played on her beautiful lips. A shuttered nod was her only response. Without expectation that this would go any farther than getting her warm, he gently unclasped the first button on her dress. Unable to help himself, his thumbs gently caressed the top swells of her ample breasts.

Arley’s mind fractured into a thousand barely recognizable pieces. She wasn’t certain what to feel. Nervous tension locked in her abdomen. She knew she looked like a half drowned cat. Her bottom lip slipped through her teeth as John continued to work through the buttons of her dress. Her nipples ached from the freezing cold, from fear that he wouldn’t like what he was about to see, and from desperate desire. All of her physical shortcomings tallied in her mind. Her breasts were entirely too large and her backside was even bigger. Her stomach wasn’t exactly flat, and her entire body hadn’t seen the inside of a gym since she was a freshman in high school. Writers weren’t usually gifted with being adept athletes. She certainly wasn’t.

All of her fretful fears seemed to evaporate to the tune of John’s hungry groan. He peeled the dress off of her skin. “So damn beautiful, baby.” His fingers fumbled momentarily with the wet elastic of her bra, but he removed it as well. Her nipples pulsated as she watched his hands tenderly caress her breasts.

John’s eyes tracked up and down her gorgeous curves. My God, why did she hide this in those loose fitting clothes? She was exquisite. Another shiver quaked through her body. “I’m gonna make it better, baby.” Her nipples were drawn so tightly they visibly ached. The thin cotton of her panties was drenched with rainwater and with her desire. They’d become completely see through. He jerked his shirt off, not wanting to add any more water to her delicate skin. He had no patience with which to do anything beyond that, however. He drew her body to him, leaned his head down, and gently huffed hot breath over her left nipple. She groaned in desperation.

With the fiery heat of his mouth he drowned the raw, pulsating nub and suckled until he brought her relief. Giving into the sensation, she let her head fall back as he moved to her right breast to tend it as well. He could have stayed there for hours, moving back and forth, slowly drawing her in and sucking her until she begged him to move lower, but making certain she was warm and comfortable had somehow become far more important than fucking her thoroughly.

He allowed himself a few kisses down her wet belly. She tensed as his fingers wound under the elastic of the panties, and he rolled the wet cloth down her legs.

Another groan of exultation rang from his lungs. She stepped out of the panties, and he was face to face with a wet patch of tender red curls that sparsely covered her mound. Allowing himself just one gentle kiss on the pinked skin of her beautiful pussy, he brought his mouth to her, huffed another breath of hot air, and then spun his tongue over the approximate location of her hidden clitoris.

A gasped moan attempted escape from her throat, but he refused to give himself the pleasure. “Come with me, baby. Let me take care of you.” He took her hand and led her into the small bathroom in her suite. There was a large tub in front of the fireplace in the bedroom, one he planned to make use of later, but this time he turned on the shower water, thankful that her room, unlike his own, had its own private bath.

Stripping out of his jeans and boxers, he tested the water with his hand. When it was warm enough, he guided her under its soothing fall. She turned and clung to him, burying her face against his neck, and her soft curves against lean strength. She’d been strong long enough. The warmth eased the tense chill her body had taken on. He kissed the top of her wet head before he lathered his hands with a bar of soap within reach.

Arley gave in. Her eyes closed, and she just allowed herself to feel the overwhelming power of being truly cared for. She had no idea where this shower might lead them, and right then she just couldn’t bring herself to worry about what might be coming next. If he wanted her, his hands need only take whatever part of her they wanted to access. The safety of his full embrace was absolutely intoxicating.

She’d been so certain that his mildly kinky preferences would offer her the best sex she’d ever hoped to have, but somehow, this sweet, gentle side of John Rowan was even better. It seemed impossible that he could be both, that he could be her soft place to fall when that was what she’d needed for so long, and that he could take her to all new heights in bed when her spiteful, willful soul made itself known, but as she stood there, allowing him to wash away just a little of what the world had heaped on her lately, she knew that he was.

Arley also knew that she’d already fallen for him. Keeping her emotions out of it, she tried to simply allow herself to enjoy what was certain to be a fleeting love with a lifetime of consequences.

John’s slick hands grasped the pliant cheeks of her ass. She forgot to be embarrassed about the cellulite and dimples that had taken up permanent residence there. The fierce throb of his cock against her soft belly gave her a modicum of confidence.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t help it. You’re so fucking beautiful, so soft. You’re gonna feel incredible when I finally allow myself the pleasure of sinking into you. I’m so damn eager to take you, but I’m not doing anything until I know you’re ready.”

She lifted her head and squeezed her eyes shut to block the falling water. “I’m ready.”

His body tensed, and another low groan echoed against the beating sound of the spraying water down the tile walls.

“I don’t have a condom in here with me, honey. Let me finish washing you then I need to touch you again. Let me feel you. Then I’m gonna get you out of this shower, dry you off, make certain you’re warm, and then, baby, then I’m gonna take you to bed, and I’m gonna keep you there.”

“Yes, please.” The words avulsed from her soul. Her right hand slipped up his cock. Her eyes opened, and she stared into his as she felt the pearly need leak from his head.

John’s entire body shuddered. Her touch was timid and exploratory. It was going to be his undoing. He wrapped his hand over hers and showed her how to handle a man. She worked her hand up and down, wrapped in the strength of his fist. His groan echoed against the tile.

“Stop, baby. You’re gonna make me come, and that’s not happening until I’m deep inside of you.” His fingers chased the rapidly falling water down her abdomen to the tender wet curls that had thoroughly distracted him in the bedroom. He coaxed her open, making her shiver against him again. “Spread your legs just a little. Let me touch you. Open yourself up for me, sweetheart.”

Her entire body rang with elation. His words and his tone undid her. Never domineering, just commanding and decisive. They melted her thoroughly. She followed his directives and felt his thumb and index finger separate her lips to allow the streaming water access to her clitoris. Her own potent moan shocked her.

“Such a sweet girl.” Gently, he used his middle finger to stroke that beautiful pearl, so timid and tender. “Does that feel good, honey? Tell me.”

“Oh, God, yes. Please, don’t stop. Please, I need you.”

“Oh, baby doll, I’ve got everything you need. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

His fingers picked up pace, working her clit until she thought she’d lose her mind. She gripped his biceps as a frenzied climax worked upwards from her pussy and spiraled out over her body to the top of her head and to the tips of her toes. She collapsed against him, but he kept going. His fingers slipped back and then up into her opening that was now primed for his care.

“Good girl. Let me have you. Open and wet just like that. This is all mine, baby. You hear me?”

She managed a half nod before she began grinding her now languid body against his hand, desperate for more. “God, I like you greedy.”

The sound of her own wet slickness slipping against his fingers seemed to drive him harder. His eyes flashed in unrestrained hunger. “I want another one, Arley. I want to feel you come around my hand and then around my cock. You’re so damn tight. You’re gonna feel so fucking good.”

John didn’t know when she’d last had sex, but if Chase had been inside of her in the last month, his cock was pencil-width wide. She hadn’t been opened properly in quite some time.

Her body seized. She clung to him with force as he drove her over again. The way she came for him was astounding. Her entire body seemed hardwired with his own. If given half a chance, he was fairly certain he could drive her over by simply ordering her to come. The all-encompassing power of that was overwhelming.

When she stilled, he shut down the water and wrapped her up in a huge towel. He dried her thoroughly and guided her out. She secured the towel around her body and used another to dry her hair while he haphazardly dried himself.

Taking her hand, he led her to the bed she must’ve made before she’d left her suite that morning. He peeled back the soft covers and sheets and spun her into his body. “I’m about to take that towel off, sweetheart. I want to see you. I want to own you. That okay?”

“Please,” her breathy plea whispered through his chest hair and set him on fire.

Arley was quite certain that if her heart beat much harder John would be able to see her ribs vibrating from its force. Without the cover of the shower, without even the cover of night, he was about to take away her every safeguard.

Seeming to sense her need to remain covered just a moment more, he located the bag from the drugstore and made quick work of opening the box of condoms. He moved back to her, his body and his gaze masked with pure, unadulterated intention. His cock tensed and bounced against his chiseled abs. He was massive. A twinge of worry twisted in her stomach, but it was smothered quickly by her desire to feel him stretch her.

Unable to help herself, she ran her hand up him again. Then, in a moment of eager inquisitiveness to know what he tasted like, she lowered her head and licked the salty pearl of need that leaked from him.

His head fell back with a voracious groan. “Sweetheart, please, I need to be inside of you.” His plea was fervent.

Her eyes closed as he loosed the towel from her body. “You are so beautiful, Arley. My God, baby, lay down for me and let me look at what I’m about to thoroughly enjoy.”

The storm raged on outside the windows. He guided her back into the bed. His eyes and his hands tracked from her collarbone, groped her breasts, and then traced down to her mound. “Next time, I swear, I’ll take more time with you, baby girl, but right now, I need you. I’ve needed you since the moment I saw you. I can’t wait.”

She watched him slide the condom over his massive cock. His body hovered over her the next moment. Bracing himself against the mattress, he stared into her eyes. Arley’s senses rang with elation. He filled them all. The scent of masculine perfection drowned her lungs. His cock prodded at her mound. He wrapped his hand around himself and pushed through her slick heat, indulging her clit with his head, making her desperate to be entered.

She arched her back. She didn’t want to wait anymore. She couldn’t. He’d worked her over twice in the shower, and she needed to be filled to capacity with him. “Open your eyes and look at me, Arley.”

Her eyes fluttered open as he lowered his hips. “All mine, baby. You’re all mine.” He pressed into her slowly, opening her one scant centimeter at a time. He groaned as her body accepted the pressure he applied.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. Do you need me to stop?”

“No, please, please keep going.”

“Such a good girl for me, baby. Just a little more, okay?” He groaned as he gave in to her pleas. He made an actual thrust and filled her to completion. His eyes rolled back in his head. Nothing, nothing had ever felt so good.

Arley’s entire body writhed from the perfection of being filled to overflowing with him. She watched his body tense as his hips picked up pace, rotating in perfect rhythm. Her head shook back and forth. The sensations robbed her of the ability to do anything more than feel.

With every other guy she’d ever been with, she had to fantasize her way to orgasm, but her mind offered her nothing. With him, she didn’t have to invent or imagine. He was the fantasy somehow come to life, and she planned on indulging in him until he walked away.

Her body folded in around him, drowning him in the liquid fever of her pussy. She trembled around his sheer size, and John’s groan thundered to beat the storm outside. He sank his lips back to hers, devouring her entire body with his own. He stroked his tongue to the rhythm he kept with his hips, and a moment later the climax consumed her. It robbed her of breath.

Her entire body tensed against his, and he lost his perfected control. She was too much. He felt his groin seize and his sac draw tight. As he collapsed against her, his cock unloaded in the condom, and his entire body shook with the heady perfection of it all.

Arley sighed. She was overwhelmed with a blissful, light-headed, sense of complete satisfaction.