Page 108 of Bitter Rival

“You think you have a magic dick or something?” she sasses.

“Didn’t Zelda tell you? It’s a magic wand.”

She presses her face against the side of my neck and laughs. “Stop making me laugh. And how did I end up straddling you?” She pulls back to peer at me. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She’s so mad that she’s grinding her body against my erection, the little tease. I grip her hips, jerking her against me.

“I bet you get extra wet when you’re angry, don’t you?” I lick my lips like I’m already savoring the taste of her. “I’m willing to go out on a limb and make you another promise.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks a brow. “This had better be good.”

“I promise to give you as many happy endings as you can handle.”

“Well, that’s a given. You’d better get to work.”

I laugh as I slide her T-shirt up her body and toss it aside.

She’s delectable. A work of art. I drag the lacy bra down with my teeth and circle her nipple with my tongue.

Her back arches and she grabs the back of my head, moaning as my teeth graze the hardened peak.

“One more thing,” she says, shoving down the waistband of my shorts and wrapping her hand around my hard cock.

“I want you down on your knees begging for my forgiveness,” she says, punctuating her words with a loud moan when I bite the fleshy underside of her breast.

“More,” she breathes, her fingers digging into my scalp as she pushes up on her knees and glides my tip over her clit through her lace panties.

She’s already soaked for me.

“You’re a terrible negotiator, princess. We’ll have to work on that.” I grab her waist and lift her up. Her thighs land on either side of my head. “But tonight, the only one who will be begging is you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Daisy

“Ready?” Beckett asks, handing me a thermos of coffee.

“I am so ready.” This is what we’ve been working toward. My excitement is so palpable I can taste it on my tongue.

It’s dark, and there’s a chill in the air when we leave the house at two in the morning.

Dew clings to my work boots and I’m shivering in my hoodie. It’s a good thirty degrees cooler than it is in the daytime, but we want to ensure that the grapes are still cool when they reach the winemaking facility so we’ll be harvesting at night.

The spotlights on the scaffolds shine as bright as stadium lights illuminating the pinot noir vineyard block where we’ll be picking tonight. About twenty people are milling around, waiting for instructions when we arrive at the meeting spot.

“Listen up,” Beckett says, commanding everyone’s attention. “I want you all to sign in. If your name is on the list, that means you’ve completed all the necessary forms and got them back to me. If your name is not on the list, that means you didn’t fill out the forms and you won’t be on tonight’s crew. And for that, I feel truly sorry for you. Who would want to miss a night of harvesting under the stars?”

A few people laugh. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air.

“Everyone gets a headlamp,” Beckett says. “You need to wear it. No exceptions. We don’t want anyone to lose their finger. Wear the gloves. And use the snips provided.” He points to the crates filled with supplies then carries on giving instructions until everyone on the crew knows what’s expected of them.

“When you fill a bucket, you empty it into one of the crates on the trailer nearest to you. We want the grapes to reach the winery in pristine condition, which means you want to keep the clusters intact. Leave the green grapes on the vine. They’re not ready.”

While he carries on making sure everyone knows their job and what’s expected of them, I can’t help but be impressed by how much work Beckett put into organizing all of this.

He’s done so much work behind the scenes that I wasn’t even aware of until tonight. No wonder he’s always working on his laptop.

“Okay, spread out,” he says. “Four to a row, two on either side and leave three to four grapevines between you so you’re not tripping over each other.”

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