Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Read online

Page 11


  His arms held her closer, and Summer fell slowly into her dream world.

  She dug the toes of her bare feet into the earth and inhaled. The sun glowed in a cloudless sky and warmed her skin as she stood amidst a field of glorious sunflowers.

  Subtle scents hung in the air. She loved nature in every form. Loved the addicting California weather as much as she loved a rainy day. In her mind, it was all good.

  As she walked along with her arms wide and hands skimming rows of yellow blooms, Summer felt a connection to the physical world—the plants and animals. There were other things too. She sensed stuff. Always had. Even as a young girl.

  Two birds circled overhead. The flutter from their wings got her full attention. Her know-it-all big brother would make fun of her for imagining she could hear wings flapping.

  Her dreamscape grew foggy, and then a memory from long ago surfaced.

  “Whatcha got there, Summer?”

  Summer smiled at her dad and held up a jar of fairy twinkles. In a voice letting him know she was the most serious twelve-year-old on the planet, she said, “Spring pixies.” She shook the jar. “They make the best twinkles even though they aren’t fully grown yet.”

  Her electrician dad was gruff and big-hearted. Howard Warren was a superstar in her eyes. He raised her and Reed, worked hard, went to church three times a year, and never complained. Not even about her flighty mother or how Marie Warren forgot all of them existed after she ran off to live a life without her husband or children.

  He sat on the edge of her bed. The smell of cigarettes and fabric softener filled her nose. It was her chore to do the laundry, and lately, she’d really been focused on which dryer sheets smelled the best.

  “And what’s the plan for these, um, newborn pixies?”

  Her smile grew bigger, happier. She could always count on her dad to play along even though he had no idea what half of what she said even meant.

  “They’re for a report in Mrs. Wiffan’s class.”

  “She’s your English teacher, right?”

  “Yep. We’re doing a unit on Harry Potter! Isn’t that cool? Anyway, my pixies are for an oral presentation on magic creatures.” She curled her lip and made a face. “Most of the boys are doing dragons.” Her snort indicated what she thought of the uninspired choice. “Missy is doing birds. Like Cinderella birds. It’s pretty clever even if she’s ripping off Disney.”

  He tapped the jar in her hands. “Did you poke holes in the lid? For air?”

  Inside her head, Summer giggled at how awesome her dad was for playing along. The twinkles tucked inside the jar were several strands of fishing wire that she dipped in glue and covered in glitter. They both knew the jar was empty other than that.

  “Of course.” She tilted the jar that had once held spaghetti sauce and showed him the tiny holes in the lid. “Reed helped. He hammered the nails because, well, because he’s Reed.”

  The loving expression on her father’s face filled her heart. “Speaking of your brother, don’t forget about the game this Friday. He’s already got the baseball scholarship, but we still have games to cheer on.”

  “My brother. The high school jock.”

  They laughed and jostled each other with shoulder shoves.

  “Both my kiddos are jocks,” Howard Warren proudly declared. “Nothing better than a full trophy case.”

  “Maybe I’ll go to the Olympics someday.”

  “You can do anything, Summer. Anything you set your mind to. Whatever makes you happy.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Yeah, but I didn’t get my Hogwarts letter when I turned eleven,” she said with a shrug. “So I guess that means it’s a Muggle life for me. But that’s okay cause I like people.”

  Putting the jar down, she nodded to it. “I’ll let the pixies out before I go to school.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Summer. You wouldn’t want to scare them off. No need to subject your fairy friends to dragons, and lord knows whatever else lurks in the imaginations of seventh graders!”

  Laughter that made her feel safe, warm, and cared for filled her senses. She loved her dad’s willingness to indulge her whimsy. He never made fun of her supernatural fantasies and encouraged her to have fun with it.

  Swirling energies filled her mind and gave her body lightness. It felt as though she floated on waves, and the sensation was not at all unpleasant.

  Through the dreamy mist, she caught sensory glimpses of the agony caused by her father’s death. Nineteen was a crappy age to lose the only parent she had. Her misery at the time was real. In some ways, she still wasn’t over the loss.

  Then the sadness cleared, and a different laughter wrapped her in warmth. A different laughter to make her feel safe and cared for. The laughter was unfamiliar, but the sound made something flicker deep in her soul.

  Her spirit leaned in, and she found her energy dancing side by side with another’s. Before long, the two energies swirled together, and an extraordinary light show filled her to the point of bursting with exhilaration.

  Arnie.

  Her floating momentum stopped, and she hung suspended and breathless for a long time. Then without warning, she came crashing back to earth.

  Startled from her dream, Summer woke, her eyes flew open, and her breath caught until she identified her surroundings. She was in bed, on her side, facing the window. Moonlight peeked through the blinds, and on the nightstand next to her, she glimpsed the time on her alarm clock. 3:27 a.m.

  Closing her eyes, she stretched and almost had a heart attack when her body encountered a large immovable object at her back. A large, warm, immovable object.

  Wide-awake and slightly panicked, she held perfectly still as the events of last night uploaded into her brain. She’d boldly chosen a mate on the merits of a two-day relationship with a veritable stranger. It was wild, rash, and crazy, but nothing she’d done had ever felt so right.

  She moved cautiously to separate from him and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Flabbergasted to realize she was naked, Summer grabbed a pillow and held it close to hide her nudity. Then she looked over her shoulder at the slumbering golden god in her bed—a bed that was in no way big enough for her and a giant.

  He was on his back sprawled like a crooked starfish with one arm beneath his head and the other thrown wide. One leg was on the bed—hidden by the covers while the other appeared to be hanging over the edge of the mattress and possibly resting on the floor.

  She suppressed a giggle. The little bed was fine when she slept solo, but Arnie’s muscled bulk took up most of the space and left none for her.

  Her eyes swept his exposed chest and lingered where the covers draped over his hips. The guy was mouthwateringly handsome. He was also a natural blond—something she discovered firsthand when his naked body revealed matching carpet and drapes.

  A long deep inhale followed by a groaning exhale made his chest rise and fall. Worried he was about to wake, she surrendered the pillow and made a fast dash into the bathroom.

  “What the …?” she growled when the harsh light above the sink revealed a face in need of moisturizing, hair like a bird’s nest, and a mouth so puffy it looked like she was shot up with fillers and plumpers.

  With shaky fingers, she touched the outline of her lips, and a blush shot into her cheeks. In the course of one rapturous night, she’d exceeded the normal daily limit of hungry kissing.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and snorted. “Yeah, so about the whole going easy the second time.”

  Her face shot with color. Round two took her by surprise. Summer came instantly awake when her demanding lover rolled her over and pulled her ass high. He apologized for what was about to go down. She twerked her butt and giggled. The giggle earned her another first—a fast spanking followed by his spectacular manhood buried balls deep inside her.

  Yep, yep, yep. No wonder she looked like hell.

  Frowning, she growled at the task before her and reached into the cabinet beneath
the sink for her hair basket. There was no way to repair the damage without effort. Despite appearances, her long blond hair was not naturally straight and smooth. Not at all. It took work and several hair products to get the right California girl look.

  Because time was an issue, she piled her hair into a sloppy bun and stuffed the whole mess into a shower cap. Already a pro at reducing her shower routine to a five-minute race to the finish, she stepped beneath the warm spray, rinsed, lathered head to toe, rinsed again, and then rinsed one more time.

  Bim, bam, boom! Done.

  Standing before the mirror again, this time covered by a towel, she wiped the condensation off the glass and went through the steps of fixing her hair.

  Some of her hair was damp, and that made it easier when she bent from the waist, shook out the whole mess, and started finger combing. Arnie’s hands in her hair had done quite a number—not that she was complaining. There was something hot about the way he fisted her curls and pulled on her head while stroking her from behind.

  Once the tangles were managed, she spritzed her entire head with a dry shampoo and then used the blow dryer on cool to settle things down. Next, she quickly hot ironed the ends and followed with a vigorous brushing.

  Dropping the towel, Summer put a foot on the closed toilet and smoothed body lotion on one leg and then the other. When her hands rubbed the skin on her torso and moved to her breasts, a soft moan escaped her lips.

  Her boobs wore the unmistakable imprint of Arnie’s mouth.

  She slid into a pair of panties grabbed from a basket on the shelves above the toilet and pulled on a tank top hanging from the bathroom door hook.

  Not at all sure what to expect when she entered her bedroom, she stumbled to a halt just inside the door when she heard her name called in a sexy-sounding grunt.

  Arnie sat up, ran both hands over his face and into his hair, and then looked around the room until he found her where she stood.

  “Where did you go?”

  She smiled. Her golden lover displayed bear traits upon waking. What were bear traits? Grumbling, snorting, pawing, and demanding.

  Gee, she thought. Mornings might be my new favorite thing.

  Without intentionally trying, her hips rolled seductively as she walked to the bed. It’d be funny if she didn’t feel the primal pull of the naked man eyeing her up like a last meal.

  “Shh,” she murmured soothingly. “I’m here.”

  Summer stopped at the side of the bed to enjoy the warmth of his fierce gaze. He licked his lips while staring at the taut nipples pressing into the thin fabric of the tank top. The salivating did not appear to stop when his eyes shifted lower to the triangle of cotton covering her femininity.

  “Why are you dressed?” His growl did funny things to her insides.

  “I’m not dressed,” she replied.

  “What the hell do you call that?” He pointed at her top and panties. She had to fight the urge to snort with laughter.

  “Um, pajamas,” she answered as if he had a screw loose.

  “Take ’em off,” he growled.

  Oooh! This was getting interesting.

  “No.” She scoffed. “You take them off.”

  “Summer,” Arnie warned in a primitive tone.

  “Arnie,” she giggled in return.

  He moved so fast she only had enough time to squeak with surprise when he lifted her off the floor and brought her down onto his lap in a naughty straddle. With nothing but a sheet between them, Summer had no problem identifying the wedge of hardness causing her to shimmy and shake.

  The blazing hot and gloriously needy kiss he instigated reduced her to a desperate wanton in no time. He knew how to kiss her into total submission. The thought should frighten her, but instead, his powerful masculinity just made her wetter.

  She surrendered without a murmur. He removed the tank top and feasted on her breasts until the only thing left was to cry out.

  They rolled, and she found herself on her back while Arnie peeled her panties off. He touched her intimately, and without thinking, she opened her thighs to welcome him.

  “Oh god, baby,” he groaned. “Your pussy is dripping.”

  No joke—she liked his tame dirty talk.

  She rolled her hips and pushed her mound into his hand.

  “What, baby?” he asked between heaving breaths. “What do you need?”

  She was new at this, but that didn’t stop her from trying out some words. “Your touch makes me so wet.”

  His lopsided grin caused her body to flush with heat and send a flood of arousal to his questing fingers. He spread her thighs wider and sat on his feet between her legs. She felt open. Vulnerable and very desired.

  His fingers parted her lips and swirled in the sexy wetness. “You have a beautiful clit.” She felt him tug the hood back and shut her eyes as jolts of need shook her body.

  “Arnie,” she grunted. “Please.”

  His mouth replaced his fingers. She cried out when he buried his face between her legs and licked the entrance to her body.

  “Come before cock,” he grunted against her pussy.

  He could have taken her but didn’t. Not until she came.

  Clutching the sheets beneath her, Summer undulated on his tongue. Her knees drew back, and without effort, both thighs opened wider.

  The pleasure he gave reduced her to a quivering moaning animal seeking a release only he could give.

  “Fuck my tongue, baby. Roll those bad girl hips and go for it.”

  His command was her wish. She gyrated and moaned up a storm. Her pussy tightened unbearably. She needed him—desperately.

  Arnie gave a feral grunt and commanded her to be still. He penetrated her with two fingers, gently at first and then with demanding strokes. Her breath caught, and within seconds, he delivered a shattering climax.

  Summer went under with astonishing speed. Her entire being pulsed and vibrated. She was barely functioning when he arranged her in a straddle on his lap and lowered her onto his fat cock.

  She gasped and shuddered against him. Being filled and stretched made her pussy quiver. Summer marveled at the wave of heated moisture flooding her body.

  There was no need for her to reinvent the wheel—not when he took control of her movements and showed her how to ride. The sound of their bodies slapping together on each downward plunge was the sexiest backing track of all time.

  Amazingly she felt the rush of a second orgasm and surrendered.

  “Come for me, baby. Let me feel your sweet pussy milk my cock.”

  She reacted by squeezing him with all her might. The effort made her tremble.

  Something snapped. She clutched his neck and brought their faces to within inches. They were both breathing heavily as she bounced energetically on his thick manhood until the heat and friction stole her sanity.

  An orgasm plowed into her like a freight train. She shook and jerked. He grabbed her by the waist and forcefully slammed her onto his cock, over and over.

  He followed her into heaven. The return trip to earth took a long time.

  He had to get a grip before things went off the rails. There was no way her inexperienced body was up for more. As it was, his conscience was already grappling with his lack of finesse during the energetic rodeo ride ending with him emptying his balls. Or ball, depending on how technical you wanted to get.

  She was limp against him, straddling his lap with his cock still inside her. He gathered her in his arms and held her close.

  “Are you okay, baby?” He breathed her in and murmured against her hair.

  It took a minute for her to react. She shifted, let out a shocked wince, and search his face.

  “I’m,” she whimpered softly but didn’t finish the sentence.

  Arnie understood, or he thought he did. Everything was up to him. Summer’s bold surrender to uncontrollable passion did something to his head. And his heart.

  Even before he made love to her, she was his. Claiming her wasn’t something
he took lightly. Joining their bodies was an act of spiritual sacrament, and whether he was ready to use the marriage word or not, it didn’t change the facts. They were inextricably bound to one another.

  He made soothing noises and stroked her back. “I’ll take care of you, Summer.”

  When he carefully lifted her, they both groaned at the loss of contact. Out of habit, he immediately checked the condom situation and silently winced.

  Once again, their lovemaking ended with a red checkmark in the column for condom fails. Not a catastrophic fail like tearing—more along the lines of obvious leakage. Goddammit. Mister Trojan had always met the challenge before.

  He told her what happened the first time. The situation couldn’t be reversed so he said nothing this time. What difference would it make?

  Curled on her side with her hands tucked against her chest, she gave off an air of fragility. He sensed turmoil. Her good girl side wasn’t an act. Summer was authentic to her bones. In the span of a few hours, she met her inner wanton and experienced things she might never have imagined.

  Hell man, he experienced things he definitely didn’t think were real. Like, for instance, was his head supposed to glow? And hers? What was up with the shower of rose gold sparkles, and why the hell did he see stars each time he came?

  And the most important question of all—did the mind-blowing connection he had with her change everything?

  Yes.

  He quickly disposed of the useless condom and then gave her all of his attention. Stroking her hip as he pulled a cover over her naked body, Arnie second-guessed mentioning the ineffective protection. Telling her wasn’t going to change anything.

  The only reason he didn’t feel like a depraved dog about the whole thing centered on a weak twig hanging from the end of a creaky branch attached to a wobbly limb—that the injury he survived had left his fertility in question.

  No doctor said so directly, but he sort of assumed scrotal trauma and surgical intervention had a negative impact on his shot at procreation. He envisioned a specialist with a sperm retrieval cup and a shit ton of modern fertility assists if having kids was going to happen. Otherwise, he was hearty, healthy, and had the testing to prove it, so she wasn’t in danger of picking something up by sexual transmission.