“Shh,” I warned her.
Her eyes whipped open, but I tugged the bikini bottom out of my way and grazed her roughly with my thumb.
She bit her bottom lip. Her eyes locked on mine as I added another finger between her legs. I swirled her clit and eased inside her. She gasped when my fingers curled inside her.
“All summer,” I growled. “Like this.” I kissed her. “Free to do this.” I nipped at her throat. My fingers taking on more territory. Her hips began to rock. I pushed deeper. The straps on her suit strained around my hand.
“I-I can’t. Not here,” she pleaded. Her breath was ragged. Her eyes glazed over. “We’re. In. The. Courtyard.” She panted hard.
I spotted a changing room, much like a beach tent in a 1920s movie across the pool.
“Come with me,” I directed. As soon as I pulled my hand away, she whimpered. But within seconds I had draped the heavy canvas curtain closed and tied the rope that held it together. I pinned Kennedy to the wall with a kiss that made my cock ache.
She clung to me as my hand reached inside her bikini. She moaned when my fingers returned to that sweet spot. Her tits jutted toward me as she arched against the wall. I plunged into her pussy. My fingers were at work to make her come hard in my hand.
“Be quiet.” I bit her bottom earlobe. She squeezed my fingers. Fuck. Her pussy was strong. Tight. I didn’t expect to be matched by her bursts of rhythm.
Her hair fell out of her bun and stuck to her shoulders. She began to ride up and down. I watched as she tried to take control of the sensations. The tiny whimpers she made were driving me fucking insane.
“Shh,” I tried to calm her and make her ignite at the same time.
“Shit, Knight,” she hissed when I flicked her clit like I owned it. I worried we’d bring the cabana down with us.
I covered her mouth with mine at the first sign she was about to come. I saw the shudder hit her. I felt the quiver wrap around my fingers. I licked her lips. Kissed her. Held her on her feet while she rode out the climax. Her eyes opened with a long sweet sigh. I brought my fingertips to my tongue.
“Fuck. I want to rip this suit off of you and kiss you. Suck you. Taste you, Kennedy.”
“No,” she whimpered. “Not here.”
“I know. I know.” I had barged into her father’s house. I was dangerously close to getting a bullet in the back of my skull.
I pried her arms from me. “I made my point.” I stood, trying to flatten out the rather solid erection in the front of my pants our situation had caused before I walked out of the changing room.
“You came here to make a point?” She still breathed heavily.
“I think I made it.”
“And what is that exactly?” She stood facing me with her hands on her hips. Hips that were tanned and slick with oil.
“That the only reason you’re avoiding me has nothing to do with me and everything to do with what you’re afraid of. We could do this. We could leave,” I urged.
Her mouth opened in surprise. “How dare you.”
I grinned, wiping the last bits of her lip balm from my mouth. It was watermelon flavored. “Face it. You’re scared, Kennedy. What else would keep you here instead of out there with me?”
“It’s not that simple.” She yanked a coverup from the hook behind my head and wrapped it around her. She ducked under my arm and out into the sun.
“You aren’t going to answer?” I followed.
I waited for a response, when I heard the sharp footsteps behind. I turned to see a man not much taller than Kennedy with Kimble. Lucien Martin.
“Kennedy, what’s going on here?”
“Dad, this is Knight Corban. He stopped by to say hello. That’s all.” I saw how quickly she walked past me to join her father as if there were an imaginary line and she had to choose the appropriate side.
I hurried around the pool to extend my hand. “Mr. Corban, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to New Orleans.”
The older man returned the handshake. “Thank you. Why don’t you join me in my study?” He glared at his daughter.
“Actually, sir, I came to see Kennedy. Thought she might like a drive out to the beach. It’s a good day for it. I’m sure you’re an outdoorsy man.”
He stared at my button-up shirt. “You’re going to the beach like that?”
“I have a bag in the car,” I lied.
“I think we should have that drink,” he answered. “Kennedy, get dressed,” he snapped. “Knight and I are going to catch up.”
There was fire in her eyes, but I didn’t know which one of us fueled it. Me, or her father. I wanted to pull her to me. To tell her I could still fix this. There was a way to sort through the family politics and find a way to grant her freedom. But those weren’t words I could say in front of her warden.
I left her in the courtyard and followed her father inside the house.
He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one to me. His study looked like my father’s. Old. Dark. Classic décor.
“Thank you.” I nodded.
He sat behind his desk. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make our meeting last week. Kennedy tells me you’re interested in my boutique hotel acquisition. The Vieux Carre.”
I
