Page 66 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

Tia taps a finger to her chin, and in an instant the shift in her eyes tells me everything. My minx just clocked in for mischief.

“What’s that look for?” I ask, leaning back on my bike as I rake my gaze over her—again. And again and again. Fuck, I can’t get enough.

She sweeps our surroundings with a quick, calculating glance. Then her hands slide behind her back.

“Baby,” I rasp, rough with warning. “What are you?—”

Zzz-ip.

The low slide of her zipper detonates a pulse straight through me.

“Jacket,” she orders, eyes blazing with heat. “Off. Now.”

I’m still gaping when the red dress slips from her shoulders, gliding over every lethal curve to land in a puddle at her heels.

Holy. Hell.

She’s standing beneath the glow of the moon with the party thumping just yards away, wearing nothing but a wicked smile and the tiniest black thong I’ve ever seen.

I make quick work of my jacket, shrugging it off and stepping into her space, wrapping it around her bare chest. My eyes go straight to those perfect peaks adorned with the silver bars I’ve missed tugging with my teeth.

My mouth practically waters at the sight.

I’m so close to leaning down to have my fill.

But not yet. Soon. Where I can take my time. Savor every perfect inch of her.

“I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to keep my hands off you until we get where we’re going,” I growl, voice low and utterly wrecked. “Jesus fucking Christ, T, you drive me so goddamn insane.”

That wicked smirk curls her lips—full of promise, full of trouble . “You can touch me,” she breathes. “I want you to touch me.”

Her finger glides between her full breasts, trailing down her toned stomach, stopping just above the thin black band of her sad excuse of a thong.

My eyes follow—because of course they fucking do. She’s pointing to exactly where she wants my hands, my mouth, all of me.

And fuck, I want it. I need it. To taste her. To claim her.

Then, just like that, she folds the jacket closed over herself, grabs her dress and my helmet, and fits it snug over her head as she brushes past me like she didn’t just nearly make me come in my goddamn pants.

My fists clench. Jaw tight. Balls heavy.

Mother. Fucking. Minx.

And when I turn to face her, I take another mental snapshot for the night—maybe the best one yet.

Tia, straddled on the back of my bike in my jacket, nearly naked underneath, with those fuck-me heels on her feet.

I bite my fist, rolling my eyes to the back of my head. Tia giggles without a care in the world, while I’m out here fighting demons to keep from busting a nut before she even lays a finger on me.

I put my helmet on, kick the stand, and rev up the engine. As soon as the rumble cuts through the air, Tia squeals in my ear and pushes herself up as close as she can against me. Like muscle memory, her arms circle around my waist.

I fucking love that. I love how crazy she gets when we go for a ride. If I wasn’t so eager to get her back to the B&B, I’d take the long way, chasing the stars and letting the wind carry us throughout the night.

But we have plenty of time for that. We have all the time in the world for it now that we’re together again.

I peel out onto the street, pushing the throttle hard to elicit the sweetest laugh from Tia. It’s music to my ears. Her temptress hands explore freely—scratching my stomach with her nails, wrapping her delicate fingers around my neck, and palming my erection over the fabric of my pants.

After a few of the longest minutes of my life, the Violet Inn comes into view. I’ve never been happier to get off this damn bike. I’m so hard I can barely think straight with the way she’s touching me. It’s taken every bit of focus not to crash the damn thing on the way here.

Reaching one of my hands back, I coast my fingers along the back of Tia’s calf, cupping the back of her knee possessively.

“Are we going to the inn?” Tia shouts over the wind.

I give her my profile and nod. She shows her excitement by hugging me tight, pressing her chest into my back. I revel in her warmth. Then, like a jolt, my stomach bottoms out when reality crashes into me.

After being apart for the longest we’ve ever been in our decade long friendship, this is us stepping into our new beginning.

No more fear.

No more bullshit.

And no more running … unless it’s to each other.

Our jaws drop as I push open the door to our room at the inn. Audrey and Isabel really came through for me. Shit. I make a mental note to get them both flowers or something.

Audrey set us up in what she calls the honeymoon suite —and yeah, it lives up to the name. I asked for romance, and boy, did those girls stay true to their promise.

The room is warm and inviting, bathed in soft earth tones. The walls are a muted sage, with sheer linen curtains that frame a set of French doors. Beyond them, moonlight spills over the King family vineyard.

The bed’s huge—a California king with a wrought-iron frame that looks like it belongs in some vintage catalog. Across from it, a stone fireplace flickers low, casting a soft light on the wood-beamed ceiling.

There’s a pair of chairs near the doors with a little round table set between them. Champagne chills in the mini fridge, as Audrey promised, next to a bowl of strawberries with a folded note.

May the night be sweeter than the view. —A & D

I hand the note to Tia, and she smiles as she reads it.

“You did all of this, Lo?”

“With some help from Audrey, Isabel, and Donovan, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, trying not to overthink the moment. “I even had the girls put together an overnight bag for you.”

Her eyes flick around the room again, softer this time. Like it’s all sinking in. The champagne. The fire. The view. Us.

The nerves in my stomach settle a little as I watch her take it all in, that quiet wonder lighting up her face. I think it’s safe to say I’m getting the hang of this whole committed boyfriend thing.

It’s easy to let go of everything I used to know about love and women when the only one who owns me is standing right here, looking at me like that.

Tia sets the note gently on the table and picks up the two champagne flutes, holding them out with a small smile. I reach for the bottle and pop the cork with a satisfying crack . She beams with delight.

I pour slowly, careful not to spill, as Tia holds out her glass to me. She looks so damn good in my jacket, it should be illegal.

“Our time,” she says softly.

“Our time.”

We clink glasses and sip, not breaking eye contact. She’s still wrapped in my jacket, lips kiss-bruised, her lipstick slightly smudged.

That same mouth—red and slick, smiling around the rim of her glass—flashes in my head, wrapped around my length. The heat of her. The way she looks when she’s beneath me, above me, all around me.

My cock twitches, hardening in my pants as the image digs in deep.

She seductively licks a drop of champagne from the corner of her mouth, and the strain beneath my zipper becomes uncomfortable.

“I’m going to freshen up.” Tia sets her glass down, that familiar cunning smirk playing on her lips. The one she knows drives me absolutely crazy.

Tia grabs the overnight bag and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click.

The second it shuts, I move. I hook my phone up to the speaker and let something low and slow fill the room to set to the mood.

It’s too cold to open the French doors, so I draw the curtains back instead. Moonlight pours in, spilling over the bed like it knows exactly what’s about to happen.

I drop the champagne into a bucket of ice, set the strawberries next to it, and take a long sip straight from the bottle. The water runs in the bathroom, steady and low, and I catch the quiet rustle of Tia moving around.

There’s a hum in my chest. Nerves, maybe. Anticipation, definitely.

I pull off my bow tie, kick off my shoes, and start on the buttons of my shirt. I’ve just made it to the second one when the bathroom door opens.

Tia steps into the doorway like she owns the moment, with my jacket still hanging off her shoulders.

“Get on the bed,” I demand.

As I unfasten the rest of my shirt, my eyes stay locked on Tia. She saunters to the edge of the bed, never breaking our stare. The heat between us rises with every step she takes, stoked by months of tension, want, and everything we’ve kept bottled up.

We hold each other’s gaze like it’s a lifeline, and I know once this thread snaps, there’s no pulling back.

She will be my undoing.

The only woman to bring me to my knees. The only woman who can take a broken man and shape him into something whole. Something worthy.

She holds all the power in the palm of her hands, as well as my heart.

And as long as there’s breath in my lungs and blood in my veins, I’ll surrender every damn piece of myself to Tia Young until the Grim Reaper comes to pry me out of her hold.

“Let me see you,” I tell her as I unbuckle my belt.

Tia makes a show out of her undressing, slipping one sleeve of my jacket off, exposing a bare shoulder. I whip my belt quickly through the loops as a snap echoes off the walls. Tia slips the opposite sleeve down this time. The swell of her breasts glow from the low-burning fire in the fireplace.

I pop the fly to my pants, shoving them past my thighs until they ripple at my feet. Tia’s dark pools of desire go straight to my throbbing erection, strained and thick against my briefs.

In one swift motion, Tia slips out of my jacket to let her full breasts spill out, nipples taut and ready to be sucked.

My eyes go straight to the place between her thighs—and fuck me, she’s bare.

No lace. No barriers. Just smooth, olive skin and the raw, unapologetic beauty of her completely nude and waiting for me.

It hits like a gut punch, stealing my breath and making my knees weak. I’d braced for lingerie, for some kind of tease, but this? This is a whole different level of surrender. Of power.

I’m already falling apart. From the way she holds her head high. From the way she owns the moment. From the way she owns me.

Palming my erection, I stalk toward her, hazel eyes burning into my skin with every step I take.

The closer I get, the more unhinged I feel.

I’m surprised by my own restraint, but I know taking my time will be worth it.

This isn’t something I want rushed. Tia deserves this moment between us to be cherished.

When I reach the space between her spread legs, Tia doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers work fast, freeing my aching dick from its confines like she needs it in her hands.

She licks her lips, eyes flickering with that dangerous little spark I know all too well. I brace myself for her touch, but instead, she leans back, then flips onto her stomach in one fluid, fucking devastating move.

And then I see it.

My brain short-circuits. Every nerve ending fries to a crisp as I stand here useless, jaw practically hitting the floor.

“Tia … oh, fuck . T, baby … Jesus fucking Christ. ”

I drop to my knees. Literally.

She glances over her shoulder, biting her bottom lip like the wicked tease she is. Then she arches her back, putting that perfect ass on full display. Round, shameless, completely irresistible.

And fucking marked.

“What do you think?” she purrs, voice full of smug heat. “Your name … right on my ass. Just like you wanted.”