text: The bonfire behind Kyle's house and tiki torches around the lake lit the valley below. Blaine cast another glance at the evidence of the second reception she'd passed on attending. Eliot had barely tolerated the formal reception and the local DJ. Forcing him to endure the music blared from speakers around the lake would've been cruel. Besides, the events of the night had unsettled her. She'd needed solace.
  
  She needed her violin. Too bad she'd left it in Russia.
  
  Blaine tore her attention from the lit windows of Jack's house and focused on the notebook in front of her. The piece of music she'd been working on since Eliot had first mentioned his charity tour stared back at her. It didn't qualify as traditional classical music but set to an array of horns, flutes, clarinets, and drums, it'd be an emotionally charged piece that would leave a lasting impression on everyone who heard it.
  
  She could almost feel the beat in her bones. The racing tempo and heart-wrenching lows spoke to her, reminding her of the journey of love she'd briefly described to Jack earlier today. Love in its highest, most exciting form, followed by the heartbreak that hit once reality destroyed the promise of forever. The only thing left to write was the ending.
  
  Utter misery? Or the happily ever after most people sought?
  
  Her pencil didn't move. She couldn't decide on the next note.
  
  The revving of a four-wheeler drew her gaze to the woods. She'd heard several ATVs on and off all evening, but never this close. Who'd be coming to see her? The excuse she'd dropped about being tired should've kept everyone away.
  
  She set her notebook and pencil on her lounge chair and walked to the side deck, allowing her an unobstructed view of the road leading to the cabin. No sweeping arcs of headlights announced a visitor. After a few moments, the sound grew softer. Whoever had ridden this way had driven by. Fine by her. Dressed in a tank top and undies, she was in no condition to be greeting anyone.
  
  Blaine returned to the spot she'd chosen at the back of the cabin and slipped on her headphones. The inspirational music she'd been listening to drew her back to the task at hand. If she joined Eliot's tour, her name would be attached to the music she was composing. Kings, presidents, and diplomats from around the world would attend such an elaborate affair, especially with the Sutherland name attached to the event. Her contribution to the tour needed to be perfect.
  
  The familiar pressure to succeed settled over her. She recognized it for what it was: an obsession. If she let it consume her, Eliot would get his way.
  
  Was that such a bad thing? Maybe, maybe not.
  
  She couldn't decide and had no one to bounce her thoughts off. Iona would tell her to follow her heart, and Avery's only contribution would pertain to her safety. Success and happiness meant little to him.
  
  She was on her own. Good thing she was used to it.
  
  Eyes closed, Blaine rested her head against the padded headrest. The classical piece written hundreds of years ago quickened her pulse. Her fingers twitched, an automatic reaction she didn't try to stop. Her body wanted to play along, to chase the beat until sweat slickened her brow. She wanted to stand on the large rocks overlooking this valley and play. Dance in the fields below where butterflies flew. Give herself over to the music, letting it tell the story she normally sang.
  
  Her fans wouldn't feel the same freeing sensation she would by embracing her violin. They'd boo any classical piece she'd play. Her sales would drop. The brand she'd built would crumble.
  
  People would forget her name.
  
  At least her current fans would. Eliot offered her the opportunity to reach a different set of fans. But would they love her as much as the adoring crowds in Russia?
  
  No. Likely not. She'd be only one of many musicians who made up the orchestra. All eyes would be on Eliot, however. Everyone would know his name, exalting the Sutherland name to fame once more.
  
  The notebook she loosely held was taken from her hands.
  
  On a gasp, she jerked up. Jack's firm hand settled on her shoulder. His mouth moved. The music blaring from her headphones drowned out his words.
  
  She tugged off the headphones and killed the music. "You scared me."
  
  He picked up the pencil she'd dropped, slipped it into the spirals of the notebook, and set it on the table under an unopened can of soda. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
  
  "You did, though. You snuck up on me." She swung her legs over the side of the chair, but Jack crouched in front of her before she stood. He rested his hands on her legs. "Somebody had to have dropped you off. Why didn't they have their lights on? I looked."
  
  Jack slid his hands higher. His rough palms spread tingles over her skin. "I didn't want to disturb you if you had company."
  
  "Who would be here? Everyone is down by the lake."
  
  "Eliot's not." Shadows obscured Jack's features, but she heard the harshness in his tone.
  
  "No, he's not." She fought a smile. Maybe Jack would fight over her after all. "Not now, anyway."
  
  "Good." Jack spread her thighs and moved into the space between her legs. "I really didn't want to have to call Levi back to pick me up. He'd never let me live it down."
  
  His speech wasn't slurred, but the scent of beer clung to him. He'd been drinking, exactly as he said he would. Now he was here, watching her with a heavy-lidded gaze.
  
  "Live what down?"
  
  Jack moved his hands to her hips and curled his fingers around the waistband of her underwear. "Not getting inside the girl I want."
  
  Her lower belly warmed with the look of hunger in his eyes. "You were already inside me."
  
  He shook his head. His voice lowered. "Doesn't count. You took advantage of me, Ms. Zima. Used me to get yourself off."
  
  He was teasing her. She knew it. His words made her incredibly hot, though. Taking what she wanted in life empowered her. She'd never considered applying the same concept to her sexual encounters, at least not until Jack Sander walked into her life.
  
  She slid her hands over the muscled pecs she hadn't seen yet. She wanted Jack naked. Wanted him inside her. Wanted to come apart at his hands. "You don't remind me of a man who can be taken advantage of, especially by a woman."
  
  "You're no ordinary woman." He wiggled her underwear to her upper thighs. She didn't help him. His flaring nostrils as he worked the lace off her bottom entranced her.
  
  "Really?" She smirked. "What am I, then?"
  
  He fisted her lacey underwear, then met her eyes. "A predator."
  
  "A predator?" The description brought a smile to her lips. It fit, even if it didn't sound flattering. She hadn't gotten where she was in life by living demurely.
  
  "Mm-hmm. But so am I." Jack jerked her underwear, tearing the delicate fabric and ripping a shocked gasp from her throat. "And tonight, I'm taking what I want."
  
  She gripped his shoulders. "Don't you think you should ask me first?"
  
  With one hand on her hip holding her in place, he slipped the fingers of his free hand inside her pussy. Her inner muscles gripped him. She inhaled sharply. He raised one corner of his mouth in a lopsided smirk.
  
  "Tell me to stop, and I will. Immediately. You understand?" He leaned into her, pushing his fingers as far as they'd go inside her body, and brushed his lips over her cheek, from her ear to her lips. "But I'm not asking your permission."
  
  "A little tit for tat?" She rocked against the fingers lodged deep inside her. Sparks danced along the walls of her vagina. Her clit thumped. She inhaled his beer-scented breath and closed her eyes. "I used you, so you're going to use me?"
  
  Jack curled his fingers, stroking that spot inside her that tightened her body, readying her for a powerful orgasm. "You're a smart woman. Aren't you, Blaine?"
  
  "I wouldn't be where I am if I wasn't."
  
  "In my arms. You're exactly right."
  
  Jack slid his tongue between her parted lips and led her into a slow, decadent melding of mouths that left her dizzy and unsettled. Her head spun. Her heart raced. The raw emotion Jack's kiss stirred didn't match his promise of using her. It held devotion as if he was savoring every nuance of this moment.
  
  A soft sound escaped her throat. Almost a whimper. It tensed her body. Her inner muscles squeezed around Jack's fingers. Her nails dug into his shoulders. And Jack kept kissing her so deeply and completely, tears pricked her eyes.
  
  Whiskey and beer flavored their kiss. She focused on the taste of him, the way his fingers moved inside her, stroking her from the inside out, and the firm press of his hand at her lower back. Lust hit her, wiping away the tenderness that didn't belong here between them.
  
  She crisscrossed her arms behind his head, holding him close, and took control of the kiss. She ate at his mouth with every ounce of rawness she'd felt the last time they'd kissed. He growled against her lips. His fingers left her body. He yanked her against him, pulling her off the lounge chair. Her ass landed on his bent thighs.
  
  Every ounce of gentleness, gone.
  
  Jack devoured her. His hands stroked over her back. The bruising press of his lips didn't give her a chance to catch her breath. There was only Jack and what he was taking from her. She had no choice but to accept him. She relaxed in his hold, tipping her head back and welcoming the deep strokes of his tongue along hers.
  
  He kissed her until she swayed, dizziness gripping her, then stood, lifting her with him. Her feet touched the cool deck. Her knees threatened to give out.
  
  With his arm hooked around her waist and his lips on hers, Jack walked forward. Her back met the railing of the deck. Then he tore his mouth from hers and turned her body. The lights from the valley below filled her vision. Music drifted to her. The party was still going strong.
  
  But Jack was here. With her. Not Brenna. Not another random woman.
  
  The sound of something tearing reached her ears. A condom wrapper. She knew that sound. She looked over her shoulder. Shadows hid Jack's face but she saw enough to know he'd lost his shorts.
  
  He stepped closer to her. The coolness of the condom on his penis sent a shiver through her body. At least he'd remembered to think about protection. Not like her. She was glad. Her luck wasn't that good, and she had no desire to claim her trust fund this way.
  
  Jack drew her close with an arm around her waist. "How long are you going to be in Sander's Valley?"
  
  She blinked. "Another week. Maybe two."
  
  "Thank God." Jack pressed his palm against her lower belly and pushed his cock into her opening. Her clenching muscles prevented him from sinking into her.
  
  Groaning, he rocked, working his thick shaft into her body. Her eyelids fluttered. Her breath rushed out. With one hard thrust, he seated himself deep inside her. She dropped her chin to her chest as the sensation of fullness overwhelmed her.
  
  She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth. "Why is that good?"
  
  "Addictions take longer than that to form." Jack turned her head and kissed her, stopping her from questioning his odd response.
  
  The rolling press of his hips to her bottom matched the pace of his kiss. Heaviness built. An ache centered deep inside her. Every time Jack reached the end of her, the tightness in her pussy intensified. The orgasm she chased slipped through her fingers each time Jack moved. So close, so far.
  
  She moved against him, needing the high of ecstasy that Jack's loving promised. He'd send her soaring over the edge. She knew it. She wanted it. He held it out of reach. The steady pace he'd set didn't let her careen into pleasure. He made her ride the edge.
  
  Blaine tore her mouth from his. "Jack, please. Harder. Take me harder."
  
  The wild look in his eyes registered. She understood her mistake. He'd been holding back. Loving her. Making her feel worshipped. She'd given him an out. Now, he'd truly take from her, exactly as he'd promised.
  
  "Remember your words, Blaine. You asked for it."
  
  She didn't get the chance to say anything else. Jack locked an arm around her chest, drawing her against him, and slammed his cock into her. Vibrations shook her body, bouncing her breasts and tearing small gasps from her throat. She had nothing to hold on to. The railing was out of reach. There was only Jack. He surrounded her, filled her, commanded her. She clung to him, digging her nails into his forearms.
  
  He tipped her head back and kissed her while his erection stretched her with every rough thrust. Feminine sounds of surrender escaped her throat. Moans, whimpers, and low grunts she was sure she'd never made in the presence of a man before. They didn't frighten her. Nothing did. Jack commanded her, leading her to pleasure. She didn't fear it. She craved it. Only he could deliver it. She knew that. Didn't care. She wanted to find her pleasure with him.
  
  On a hard thrust that tore his name from her throat, Jack found his release. Hers followed. Waves rolled through her body, leaving her trembling. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. There was only ecstasy. And Jack.
  
  And this nagging feeling she'd never be the same again.