Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family) Read online

  “I’ll be at the studio in two hours,” I assure George. After clicking off, I head straight to my bedroom and pack my bag, looking longingly at the connecting door.

  “What are you doing?” Summer’s voice startles me from the doorway. I explain the situation at the studio quickly, and then it dawns on me that I didn’t come here by car. Fantastic.

  “Oh, you can take my car. I’ll just ride back with whomever.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you.”

  Thank heavens her car is automatic, because I can’t drive a stick to save my life. Bag ready, I return to the living room with Summer. The Bennetts are a little flummoxed with my abrupt departure—one Bennett in particular—and I say my goodbyes quickly.

  “I’ll walk you to the car,” Blake says as I head out the front door.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’ll walk you,” he repeats, his voice stronger, and I bite back a sigh. I like bossy Blake. Truth be told, I like every version of him. He’s simply gotten under my skin.

  Ever the gentleman, he loads my bag in the trunk.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go.” His honesty is so disarming I can’t help responding in kind.

  “So do I.”

  He closes the distance to me, raising his hand to touch my cheek, my neck. God, it feels so good to be touched by him. I’m in danger of forgetting why I must leave; such is his power. Wisely, I step back a little. Hmm...this isn’t helping as much as I thought it would.

  “Yeah?”

  “You think I’d rather spend my night and Sunday working than with you?”

  He offers me a smile and kisses my forehead, which is not what I was expecting.

  “What?”

  “We’re back at forehead kissing?” I inquire. He laughs throatily.

  “No, but if I kiss you—” He emphasizes the word “kiss” by dragging his thumb across my lower lip. “—I can promise you won’t make it to the studio in time.”

  “Oh! Okay.”

  His voice is pure seduction, and combined with the pressure of his thumb on my mouth, my body tightens, my nipples peaking under my bra. This man has the most dangerous effect on me. He seems to realize what he’s doing to me and drops his hand, opening the car door for me. Thank heavens for small mercies.

  “See you tomorrow evening, then.”

  ***

  I don’t see Blake on Sunday because the mayhem at the studio continues. At noon, it appears everything is sorted out, so we all go home. But I barely have time to nap for a few hours before George informs me the set foundation caved in completely, and we’re back to square one. The entire technical team plus Quentin and I spend the night at the studio, and all of Monday. The set isn’t salvageable.

  We need to rebuild its big parts, which will take the entire week. Since we can’t pause shooting for that long, Quentin and I arranged for shooting to temporarily move to another of the studio’s sets, which is now empty because that show is on break.

  So tomorrow morning, we’re all driving out to L.A., and will stay there for the week.

  I drive home in a state that resembles drunkenness, parking the car in my usual spot. But then I see Blake’s car, and adrenaline suddenly spikes my blood. He must be inside the bar tonight. He usually is on Mondays. I have not memorized his schedule, just...kept in mind some facts, purely for neighborly reasons. Ah, who am I kidding, I totally memorized his schedule.

  So even though I’m dead tired, instead of going up to the apartment and sleeping like the dead, I head inside the bar. I want to see him, even if it’s just for a few minutes to say hi.

  To my utter shock, the place is packed. Mondays are usually laid-back. The second shock comes when I see Blake behind the counter alone. This can’t be good. He usually has two bartenders on Monday. I knew my stalker tendencies would come in handy at some of point. Scratch that. Observant! That’s it. I’m observant, not a stalker.

  I watch him silently, amazed by his speed. Of course, the line is something like Sisyphus’s chore. No matter how fast Blake is, the line isn’t getting shorter because new customers line up constantly. I elbow my way through the crowd, and instead of lining up, I wedge myself between two men who are directly in front of Blake, waiting for their drinks. They shoot daggers with their eyes at me. Ask me if I care.

  “Hey, why are you alone tonight?” I ask, leaning slightly across the counter so the other patrons can’t hear me.

  “Clara, hey! Didn’t see you. Sent both my bartenders home an hour ago. They were coming down with some bug.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I have a full house tonight.” He smiles as he hands a beer to one of the customers, but I’ve been observing Blake for long enough to know when he means a smile or when it’s just a pleasantry. This is the latter. I have the sudden urge to make him laugh, or hug or kiss him, but it’s not my place. Blake isn’t mine, despite what happened on Saturday morning between us at the ranch. I don’t want to raise my hopes that it was more than a hot morning. Without asking for permission, I walk around the bar, stepping behind the counter.

  “What are you doing?” Blake asks.

  “Lending you a hand.”

  “You’re tired. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t come home last night.”

  I smile, beyond thrilled that I’m not the only one who is observant.

  “I’m handling this.”

  “I’m helping you.”

  Blake stares me down but I don’t back away, instead holding his gaze, which is no small feat.

  “Oi, still waiting for my drink,” a man calls from behind the bar, cutting through the tension.

  We have our hands full until well after midnight. Finally, when there are just three patrons left and it’s only a few minutes before closing, I use the opportunity to use the personnel toilet.

  On my way back, close to the door connecting the back office area with the bar, I hear a low, seductive female voice.

  “Blake, you look sexier every time I see you.”

  I flatten myself against the wall. I can’t see her through the open door, but if I can hear her, I imagine she either must have stepped behind the bar or is leaning across it, and they’re nearby.

  “Thank you, Sarah.”

  “You still live upstairs?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart stops. I know it’s terrible of me to eavesdrop, but I can’t peel myself away, though this is one of those moments when my ability to make myself invisible is required. Instead, I’m rooted to the spot, forcing myself to breathe in and out. If Blake wants to take this woman upstairs and have his wicked way with her...

  “I can wait for you to lock up,” the woman says.

  Stay put, Clara. Stay cool as a cucumber. Going out with women is his right, and it shouldn’t be a big deal to me. It shouldn’t matter at all. But it does, damn it, even though he’s not mine. Yes, we kissed and had some hot fun, but it’s not like we made each other any promises. Maybe it was a one-time thing, and I just didn’t realize it.

  “And then we can go upstairs. Like in the old days,” she continues.

  I feel a sharp pain in my chest as I hold my breath, waiting for Blake’s answer. Please say no. Please, please say no.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sarah, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “Aww, what a pity. I’d ask why, but I don’t want to hear you telling me you’re off the market. It would be a stab to my ego, knowing I wasn’t the one to tame you. It was good to see you, Blake.”

  “Take care.”

  I keep my ears peeled and hear the front door opening and closing, then Blake’s footsteps heading away from the bar, presumably to lock the door and turn the sign to closed.

  My mind is reeling, and I feel a huge wave of relief crashing over me. I take a few steps back, planning to hover around the back room for a minute or two, so Blake doesn’t put two and two together. Unfortunately, Blake himself steps
into the room.

  He takes one glance at me and just knows.

  “You listened.” It isn’t a question. I’m pretty sure he can read the relief on my face. I nod, keeping my gaze focused on the top button of his polo shirt.

  “And you’re avoiding my eyes because…?”

  I chance a glance upward. “Why did you turn her down?”

  “Because I’m not interested.” After a beat, he says, “You think I’d touch you the way I did on Saturday and then hook up with someone else?”

  I can’t find my voice so I just move my weight from one foot to the other, feeling like a fool. Blake closes the distance between us, raising one hand. He rests the pad of his thumb on my jawline, close to my earlobe. His other fingers go into my hair. He brings me closer, lowering his mouth to my ear. “I’m only interested in one woman. You.” He feathers his lips on my cheek, sending all my senses into a tailspin.

  “I feel a little silly,” I admit. My voice is shaking with joy and relief.

  “Don’t.” He kisses my temple, holding me close to him. “But I will need you to give me more credit than that.” He hugs me even closer as I nod against his chest.

  “I thought...maybe it was a one-time thing, and I didn’t realize it.”

  “It wasn’t a one-time thing. And just so we’re clear, I don’t want you just in my bed. I want you in my life.”

  “You’re a sweet talker, Blake Bennett, and you’re so good at it. Can you do it some more?”

  Snuggling against him with my entire body, I soak in all of that goodness and warmth, and at the same time my fingers press into his back, feeling him up. I’m an excellent multitasker if I do say so myself.

  “I mean it.” He pushes me away a few inches so he can look down at me. I swear to God, I will melt right here in his arms. “I don’t share, and I’d never ask you to either.”

  “Okay.”

  “So we’re clear on this front?” His eyes are full of determination and heat.

  “Yes.”

  He seals his mouth against mine and I sigh, bracing my hands on his strong arms. Something shifted between us just now, and it fills me with a giddy happiness, so I’m going to hold on to it.

  “Go upstairs. I’m going to close here and prepare everything for tomorrow,” he says when we pull apart.

  “I’ll help.”

  “Nah, you’re tired.”

  “But I won’t be able to sleep right now. I’m too wired.” Being held in those strong arms of his while he tells me he wants me in his life will do that to me.

  “Take a hot bath and relax.”

  I might have done that, if not for two things. One, I’m not ready yet to say good night. And two, his voice is commanding again. I forgot how much I like that.

  “I told you before you’re not the boss of me, Blake.”

  “You keep saying that. I’ll have to prove the opposite.”

  Well, he’s a terrible people reader if he can’t tell this is exactly what I’m aiming for. I might have to spell it out for him, but then he might use it to his advantage, and who knows where that might get us?

  “Go upstairs.”

  “Or what, will you boss me around some more?”

  “You bet.”

  “What if I don’t want to go upstairs?”

  Blake leans in to me, brushing his lips on my forehead, then down my temple. He stops when his mouth is inches away from mine. “Then I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

  “You’re so hot when you’re bossy,” I admit. He frowns.

  “You gave me shit for it at the ranch, and now.”

  Yep, I’ll have to spell it out. “I was riling you up. Get with the program. By the way, can I make you jealous from time to time? Back at the ranch...you were so hot, all possessive.”

  He lets out a strangled groan. “You’re killing me. Killing. And the answer is no unless you want me to kiss you right on the spot, staking my claim on you.”

  I grin. “But that’s exactly what I’m going for.”

  ***

  Blake

  I cup her head, kissing her hard. Then I take her hand and lead her to the back with determined strides. There is a small office there, which I never use. I prefer to work surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the bar, often just sitting at one of the bar tables to work on my laptop. The office is too small and private for my taste, but now I appreciate its existence very much.

  Once inside, I lift Clara up, propping her ass on the small wooden desk, which makes a dubious sound like it might give in.

  “You’re beautiful,” I murmur. She’s wearing jeans and a blue, strapless tank, but she could be wearing anything and she’d still be stunning. Her expression lights up, the corners of her mouth lifting in a smile. I’d do anything to put that smile on her face every day. And I will. I don’t know where this urge comes from, but it feels right. She rocks back and forth a few inches, and something in her expression changes.

  “Blake, not here...” She blushes, which immediately clues me in to her meaning. Obviously, I need to clarify a few things.

  “Make no mistake, I will make love to you on every surface—including this desk. But the first time, it’ll be on a bed. You’ll need to be comfortable, and I’ll need it to be solid—because, babe, it’ll take a lot for me to get my fill of you. Right now I just want to kiss you...make you come once. I need to hear you cry out.”

  She licks her lips but has no comeback, which is a first. Instead, she parts her thighs in a silent invitation, exhaling sharply. Her eyes widen as if her own body’s reaction to me surprises her.

  I kiss her hard, pulling her right to the edge of the desk. She shifts even closer, parting her thighs wider. I love the way she opens up to me like she’s inviting me to take all she has to give. She wraps her arms around my neck, sighing into my mouth. It’s the sweetest sound, and I’m overcome by the need to lure sounds of pleasure out of her. She fists my hair, growing more desperate.

  “Blake, won’t anyone—”

  “No, I locked the front door. Trust me.”

  She relaxes against me, trusting me. I won’t give her any reason to regret that. Ever. I want to taste and touch every inch of this woman, but that will have to wait until she’s in a more comfortable place. This—tonight, is all about her. Still, I’m a red-blooded man, and I haven’t had the pleasure of worshiping her breasts. That will change tonight. I push her tank top down and Christ, she’s a sight.

  Red cheeks with slightly puffed-up lips, her tank top cinched around her waist. The bra is the half-cup type, pushing her breasts up. She looks so sexy, I’m tempted to leave it on. But the need to taste her is greater, so off the bra goes. She’s gorgeous. I kiss down her neck, to her chest. She leans back slightly, giving me better access. Her nipples are already puckered and I haven’t even touched them. I’m going to remedy that right away. I palm one and take the peak of the other in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. Clara moans loudly, arching forward into me.

  I graze my teeth lightly around her nipple, watching her. I don’t want to push too much so soon. I’m going to drive her over the edge, give her pleasure like she’s never had before, but I have to pace myself. She bites her lip, parting her thighs even wider. I’ve brought her to climax with my mouth now I want to do the same with my fingers. And I want to kiss her when she finishes, capturing the sound.

  I unbutton her jeans but don’t remove them, just slide my hand under the fabric of her panties, caressing slowly over her pubic bone. She’s shuddering with anticipation. I kiss her when I finally lower my fingers over her opening. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. She’s so wet and warm, so ready, it damn near kills me not to sink into her right here on this desk. I stroke her, kissing up all her moans, greedy for her sounds. They grow more intense as I find her clit and press around it, against it, finding just the perfect rhythm for her. I wait until she becomes drenched and then slip two fingers inside her, pressing the heel of my palm against her clit. She shudd
ers almost violently. When I arch my fingers into a come-here motion, she clenches around me.

  She digs her fingernails in my arms, arching more against me, and I kiss her hard, claiming her sound of pleasure as she climaxes. Then I hold her close to me, steadying her until her breathing relaxes, whispering sweet and dirty nothings in her ear. I won’t deny that knowing I was the first to give her an orgasm is a big boost to my ego. But it’s also something more, beyond pride or ego. Just the thought that other men have touched her is torture for me. It’s the first time I wish I’d been a woman’s first in all the ways. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m experiencing many firsts with Clara, and have a hunch more will follow.

  But right now, I need to take care of her, make sure she gets her sleep. She’s been working the entire weekend and helped me out tonight. It’s high time I took care of her. First step, covering her up, because having her beautiful breasts in my face is tempting fate and my self-control. I did a good job of ignoring the strain in my boxers when I was concentrating on her pleasure, but now I have to grit my teeth.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Putting your bra on.” Once that’s done and her nipples aren’t in my face anymore, I relax as she arranges her top over the bra.

  “What now?”

  “Now we’re going to go upstairs, and I’m going to prepare a bath for you. Which you will take alone, so you can relax and sleep. I’m sticking to that plan.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow for the week. We’re moving filming to L.A. until the set is rebuilt.” She bats her eyelashes, then kisses my cheeks, whispering, “Does that change your plans?”

  “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Clara

  I have no memory of getting upstairs, but then I do tell Blake I want to take a quick shower—alone. When I emerge, Blake is standing in my bedroom, naked. My mouth dries as I take him in, and I keep my towel safely around me until I reach the bed. Crawling backwards on the bed, I peel away the towel.