Page 3 of Bordeaux Bombshell
This is why whenever we use each other to let off some steam, there is no talking involved. No talking. No kissing on the lips. No P in V. Three unsaid rules we both stick to in order to get ourselves off without disturbing the pile of shit between us that neither of us wants to acknowledge in the name of a quick orgasm.
Also why you shouldn’t argue with someone who’s known you your whole life. Not only do they know where all your buttons are, they probably installed half of them.
“Don’t fucking call me sweet cheeks.”
The asshole laughs at my words, then has the audacity to lean over and deliberately check out my ass. Which does look amazing in these jeans, so fuck him. Metaphorically. “You’re right. You have many fine qualities—” He pauses to glance at my butt again. Fucking. Pauses. “But being sweet isn’t one of them. However, I can’t exactly call you Hellcat anymore, can I?”
The old nickname lands like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me. My shoulders curl in, and I heave out a hard breath before straightening up and pointing to the door.
“Get. Out.”
Nate walks toward me. Slow and deliberate. It’s a mosey that almost borders on a strut, and I hate that I’m paying this close attention to him. I hate even more that my heart picks up speed and my core clenches as I brace myself for the too-familiar scent of his cologne.
He stops in front of me. Cocky smirk in place, he reaches for the button of my jeans, hauling me against his body while he unzips them. Without a word, exactly how I like it, he slides one hand into the warmth between my thighs, his long fingers expertly playing with my clit.
As he strums me like an instrument, I bite my lips, holding inside the gasp it elicits. I will not give him the satisfaction of hearing how good it feels. Nate slides a practiced digit inside me,his thumb still working my clit. The tightness of my jeans keeps his fingers moving short and fast, and the orgasm I won’t admit to builds in my core against my will.
It takes only a few moments for release to flood through me. And even though I don’t make a sound, he knows.
Pulling his hand free, Nate sighs, then zips up my jeans and fastens the button without looking up. “I have one thing to say, and then I’ll leave.”
We’re almost chest to chest, my nose level with his chin. The forest currently covering it threatens to poke my eye out, and I sway back so I can glare up at him. For a long moment, neither of us speaks or moves. My gaze is focused on his lips, hidden behind his mustache, but I remember what they feel like. Regretfully.
They were always soft and full, and for a second, I wonder if he still tastes like red wine and bad decisions. With a tiny gasp, I pull myself free of the trance I’m going to blame on the gin and tonics, fixing a smirk on my face and staring over his shoulder.
“Oh, you actually have a reason for harassing me at home? I thought you just came to be annoying.”
“That was a delightful bonus.” He straightens his flannel and steps back, popping finger guns at me.
Finger guns? Really? Familiar irritation replaces the momentary lapse in my walls, and I shake off the last of my confusion. “Spit it out before I kick your ass.”
“Kel asked me to be his best man. I take the fact that he’s forgiven me deadly serious, so we’re going to publicly patch things up before the wedding.” Nate steps back into my space, leaning down to rumble in my ear. “This is your only warning, Sydney. The war between us has to end, and I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty to make it happen.”
Nate
Seven years ago
Therewasnowaythe day could have been any more perfect. The setting sun cast golden light over the girl I loved as she lay back on the blanket. We’d have to get dressed soon before the family started looking for us, but for now, I was content to lie here, tracing shapes on the soft skin of her stomach. Occasionally, I let my thumb brush the underside of her breasts just to hear her tiny gasp of pleasure.
“Do you have to go back?” Sydney didn’t open her eyes, keeping them closed against the bright July sun, but she dropped her hand to the top of my head, running her nails against my scalp. “You’ve been gone two years already.”
I turned to lay my cheek on her skin, her fingertips sending goose bumps down my spine despite the day’s heat. “You know I do. You still have another year of school, anyway. I want to learn as much as I can before I come back. I want to make this place into something special, and the best way to do that is to keep working and learning at Vignobles Hermouet.”
Ever since high school, I’d been planning the improvements I’d make around here. Diversify our income stream and raise enough money to buy more grapes. Increase production and take our wine into bigger markets. Win awards and open a tasting room in downtown Portland. I hadplans.
Plans that included having my hellcat by my side, bossing around everyone at Ridge Runner, and especially me. Kel complained nonstop about his bossy little sister, but I reveled in it, always had.
“You’re going to finish your marketing degree. I’m going to get another year or two under my belt.” I punctuated my words with kisses, working my way down her ribcage to her belly button, then down toward the patch of curls and the secret part of her I could never get enough of.
I slid my tongue along her slit, grinning at her moan. “If we’re going to expand this place, we need the skills to run it.”
“Our little winery empire.” Sydney giggled as I blew against her heated skin. She sat up suddenly, her eyes narrowed. “Promise me you won’t fall in love with some fancy French girl while you’re gone?”
I rolled onto my back, head pillowed on her thighs while I stared up at her. “I will never love anyone but you, I swear.” The promise fell from my lips easily because it was true. I’d dated a few women while I was gone, but they always left me unsatisfied. They weren’t home the way Sydney was.
Before she could argue, Kel’s voice calling for us drifted over the field. “We better get back. Don’t want to miss out on ourbirthday dinner.” I grinned up at her before pushing back to sit on my heels and pull my T-shirt on.
“Promise me.” There was an edge to her tone, hard enough to make me flinch. Sitting up, she started pulling on her sundress. “If you ask me to wait for you, I will. But if you go and fall in love in France, I will never forgive you.”
