Page 32 of Hidden Harbor (Evergreen Rescue #1)

W atching Drew force Owen onto the ferry left me feeling floaty.

Not in an I’d-had-too-much way, but in a cloudy, not-sure-this-is-real-life kind of way.

I’d met with Owen, and the world hadn’t collapsed.

Sure, he’d been a dick and taken a swing at Drew, but what else was new?

I hadn’t let it get to me. And Drew was great.

Not that it was surprising, but his need to protect the people he loved shone through.

The second confrontation with Owen outside Harbor Brews came out of nowhere. Having Drew and the guys rush to my defense left me feeling emotional. Loved. And a little grateful there hadn’t been too many witnesses.

Did I believe Owen would truly slink away and leave me alone forever? Not really. But for the first time in days, I could fill my lungs without feeling constricted by fear.

Drew squeezed my hand, smiling down at me as we walked up the hill. Reminding me that my feelings for him were anything but sisterly. Big and sure, he was more than a safe port in the storm.

“Your place or mine?” he asked as we reached the corner between The Anchor and my place.

The floating sensation magnified. “Yours. I don’t want to scandalize your sister.”

“What, Vi? Pretty sure she knows we’re having sex at this point.”

He stopped on the sidewalk, gathering me close. I huddled into his warmth, my hands on his broad chest. The strong muscle beneath my fingers made me want to explore.

“Yeah, but I already feel like a bad roommate. It’s one thing to fall for her brother; it’s another to rub her nose in it. You know she thinks she’s cursed, right?”

“She can’t help it if she has older brothers who are too hot to stay single.”

His faux-modesty was endearing, but it didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes. “It’s not all about you, handsome. Her last three roommates moved out when they coupled up.”

A broad grin stretched across his face. “So you’re saying we might find a place together when my commitment at The Anchor is up?”

It was a giant leap forward, but it felt right. “Something like that,” I said cagily, wanting to give him space if I’d overstepped.

He squeezed me tight. “Nothing would make me happier,” he rumbled in my ear, his deep voice sending a delicious shiver down my spine and gooseflesh pebbling across my arms and chest. “I meant what I said earlier. Sword. Shield. I just want to be with you.”

I turned toward him like a flower to the sun, soaking up the heat in his gaze. His full lower lip drew me forward, and I leaned into him, arching for his kiss. The first graze was sweet. Chaste. He groaned, deepening our kiss, leaving me out of breath when we finally broke apart.

I followed Drew into his apartment. He locked the door and backed me up against it.

The cool wood at my back grounded me. He crowded forward, his hips pressing until I could feel how much he wanted me.

Every place he touched burned with fire, leaving a trail of destruction in its path.

My focus was wholly on him, which was my only excuse for not seeing it sooner.

“Aack!”

My involuntary scream spun Drew around, his fists at the ready.

He swung a microsecond before I realized exactly who or what the man behind us in the kitchen was: the cardboard cutout from the farm.

The force of Drew’s blow decapitated the cardboard Beetlejuice, sending Michael Keaton’s head flying across the counter and into the sink.

My knees gave way, and I sank toward the floor, laughing. It sounded a little manic, even to my own ears. My pulse raced, a rushing in my ears that made it difficult to think straight. Drew turned back toward me, smile sheepish.

“I guess I showed him.”

“Ha. Yeah.” My voice was faint.

He pulled me from the floor, wrapping me in his arms, hugging me tight. “Welcome to the Fenwick Family,” he murmured in my ear, a smiling apology in his tone like he was inviting me into the dentist’s chair.

Slowly, my breathing eased, my heartbeat slowing to a more normal rhythm. “Where the family motto is: I will remember and repay, not forgive and forget?”

Drew chuckled. “Not quite. Can I interest you in my personal motto?”

“What is it?”

“ Nudus currere et loqui sordida.”

“Is that a fancy way to say I get even ?” I asked wryly.

“No, but I like it. I think you’ll like this motto even better. It’s run naked and talk dirty .”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Most definitely. Just let me check my bedroom for more surprises first.”

“You don’t want to decapitate any other cardboard cutouts tonight, huh?”

“Nope. I’m all done with fight, flight, or freeze for the night. It’s time to embrace the last ‘F.’”

“Classy, Fenwick.”

He ducked into his room, returning a moment later. “All clear.” His eyes rounded as he realized I stood in front of him, naked. My discarded clothing pooled at my feet.

“Sunny Girl, that motto was meant for you.”

Stripping myself bare was easier than talking about the drama with Owen. For a few hours, all I wanted to do was forget. Lose myself in pleasure.

“Now I have to catch up.” Drew stripped away his shirt, dropping his jeans to the floor. He stood in front of me, gloriously naked.

I should have felt vulnerable, every physical imperfection on display.

The ugly mole on my hip. My wonky second toe.

But his gaze was so clearly adoring in the way it swept over my body, I focused instead on how he made me feel: loved.

Treasured. Like the only woman in the world. A power to be reckoned with.

“I’m down with the dirty talk, but not so sure about the running part,” I teased.

“That’s okay, honey. I’d rather take things slow. I’m the tortoise, remember?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure you can claim that anymore. We happened pretty fast.”

“Bite your tongue, woman. I’ve been into you for over a year. Don’t you remember the study about friends, yadda-yadda?”

“The one you made up?” I pointed out dryly.

“I remembered another one,” he said, ignoring my question. “Studies also show that couples who fall in love after traumatic events are bonded for life.” He interlaced his fingers, his expression earnest. “Inseparable.”

My pulse took flight. Did he even recognize what he’d just said? He stood before me naked, erection proudly announcing his future plans, and proceeded to get more naked.

He’d made himself so vulnerable to me. I could only respect that kind of bravery.

Even if I was too emotionally exhausted to reciprocate aloud in the moment, a flutter of answering emotion beat in my chest. The liquid warmth grew and expanded, like a chemical reaction that threatened to burst from beneath my skin.

Drew Fenwick was one in a billion. Green flags for days. What would it be like to keep him forever? Heaven. It’d be heaven.

I drifted toward him, step by careful step until our bodies brushed. He cupped my hips in his massive hands, capturing my mouth in a gentle kiss. The brush turned into a deep, seeking exploration. Still soft, but driving toward a destination.

He took over every sense. All I could feel was Drew. The reverent way he stroked my skin, inciting an answering electricity beneath the surface. All I could hear was Drew, whispering how much he adored me. My body. My mind. My heart.

All I could smell was the subtle musk that clung to his skin, a hint of sweat and the sea, reminding me that he’d protected me without hesitation.

All I could see was Drew, naked skin for days, the hard muscular planes of his body pressed against my softness.

And all I could taste was him, the urgency and delight clear in the way he kissed me.

“Make love to me, Drew,” I pleaded, aware it was an answer of sorts.

Sex with Drew had been playful. Fun. Erotic. But the light in his eyes as he touched me was loving. Meaningful. Like the sealing of a promise.

He sipped my sighs, latching on to every moan with an urgency that fed my own.

We fumbled our way to the bedroom, kissing, stroking and teasing every few steps, turning the journey into a dance of seduction. I tumbled back on the bed, pulling him with me. He followed without breaking our kiss. I smiled against his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” he asked when we finally broke apart to catch our breath.

“I love us,” I panted out.

He froze, his brown eyes darkening. “Us? Any particular part of us?” he asked with a fake casualness as thin as rice paper.

I reached for his dick, encircling his girth. His eyes went hazy and unfocused. I landed him with a teasing smile. “I mean, if we’re picking favorites, I’ve got to admit this is a favorite bit.”

“What are you calling a bit ?” he gritted out.

He surged in my hand, seeming intent on proving there was nothing bitty about him.

“Drew, you’re distracting me, and I’m trying to compliment you,” I admonished.

“The fact that I’m distracting you is a compliment.” He grinned. “Let me do it some more.”

He dove forward, subjecting me to a rain of kisses that swiftly turned from teasing to slow.

As if he needed the deliberate tempo to make his point.

Each drag of his mouth against mine sent me deeper into the meditative space where I separated from my body, mingling my essence with his.

Feeling us swirl together as our bodies continued to writhe, stroke and tempt.

Gasping in oxygen broke the spell enough for me to settle into my skin, aware of the burning heat between my thighs and how much I needed him inside me. I stroked him, his heavy girth filling my hands. He ground against me, back arched, leaving me feeling all-powerful. A sorceress with her thrall.

“I want to fill you until you scream my name,” he rasped.

I released my hold on him. “Touch me.”

His fingers dug into my hips. One heartbeat.

Two. He pried his hands away, shifting to explore my body more fully, filling his hands with my breasts.

Sucking at my nipples. Tracing a path of fire along my body.

Gently prying my thighs apart, not that it took much effort.

I practically split myself in half, eager for his attention.

Slick with moisture even before he touched me.

He petted my mound at first, watching me for my reaction.

I shifted restlessly under the soft touch.

“More.”

His thumbs traced my slit, parting my folds for his tongue. I arched beneath him, pulsing forward for the pressure I needed.

He mumbled something against my pussy. The words didn’t matter. The gentle rumble was enough to send me near the edge.

“I want you inside me.”

I gripped his hair, tugging gently when he seemed like he might ignore my demand. Seconds later, he perched above me, condom in place and a forearm to either side of me, holding my gaze. He probed my entrance, and I tilted, eager to take him.

My eyelids fluttered as he thrust forward, impaling me until I felt full to bursting with his length.

Deliciously tight. So close. As if he sensed I needed it, he moved, shifting his weight and pulling away before pushing forward again.

Rubbing just the right spot. I clawed the sheets beneath me, adding my hip thrusts to his.

Tension gathered, making every muscle rigid as I drew closer to the edge.

“Mine,” he grunted.

His claim, his raw hunger, pushed me over the edge.

My orgasm came in a cascading rush, washing over me in undulating waves that drew me under, tumbled by sensation. My paroxysms pulled Drew in my wake. He grunted, collapsing half on top of me, his low purr of pleasure filling my ears.

Gingerly, he pulled back. Before I could fully register the loss, he swooped to kiss me, the tender brush enough to make me eager for round two.

He held my gaze, his features relaxed in something approaching awe. “For the record? I love you, Anya Rose. More than I thought possible.”

Anya Rose. The love and acceptance there shook me. But it shouldn’t have. Another man might have held my past against me. Made snide remarks. But Drew just embraced me. It was a rare and wonderful gift. One of the many things I loved about my oh-so-responsible, protective boyfriend.

“And also for the record? I love you, Drew Fenwick. But I always knew it was possible. That’s what made me so scared.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

He’d never been less than truthful. I believed he meant it. But it raised the specter of the man who had.

I traced a hand from his shoulder to his chest, lingering over his heart. Drew cupped my hand there, holding it steady. Letting me feel the strong rhythm pounding there. He was different from Owen in every way.

“I’m grateful you helped me with Owen tonight. But that’s not why I love you.”

“Is it because of my incredible sense of humor and biceps that won’t quit?” He flexed, making his biceps pop.

I chuckled. “Only partially. You were patient with me when I needed it. Didn’t push.”

“That just makes me a decent human being.”

I pursed my lips. “You let me love you, Drew. On my own terms and in my own time. You’re honorable in a way I didn’t think existed anymore.

Caring when you could be cruel. Responsible when you could be selfish.

You make me feel like the most beautiful, precious woman in the world.

Complete and whole in my own right, without the taint of my past. Separate from my family, even though yours is inextricably linked with who you are.

I love you for that. For seeing me as me. ”

He kissed me, slow and tender, as if to seal the words I shared between us. Immortalize them in a kiss that bloomed with the power and presence of our love for each other.

His eyes glittered as he drew away. A subtle change in his expression warned me.

“Just so we’ve got our stories straight, please tell my brother that my biceps sealed the deal.”

I giggled, letting the laughter wash away the last of the stress and worry from dealing with Owen. From admitting my feelings to Drew. I loved him so much. Biceps and all.