Authors: Adriana Law
“Megan, are you sure?” came out huskily, tortured.
He kissed his way back up to her parted mouth, his teeth skimming the flesh
along her chin.
She nodded, her heavy-lidded eyes colliding with his.
Her body felt like mush in his hands, along with her brain. Nothing matter: not
who could possibly walk in, not Conner, not tomorrow, not all the reasons to stop
what WAS going to happen… all that mattered was satisfying the ache she felt
for this insanely sexy man. She was already reaching between them for the fly of
his jeans; her shaking fingers fumbling to hurry the process of setting his
erection free, when the words rushed from her, “Yes, I’m sure, but my robe
stays on.”
He paused, his questioning gaze searching her face
as he gathered her tighter in his arms. She murmured, “Don’t look at me as if
I’m crazy, I’m serious. I don’t want you to see.”
At her words something changed in his dark eyes, his
lashes lowered as he glanced down at her chest.
She
thought she’d ruined the mood.
But
she hadn’t, it had just changed into something else. Something softer. Something
sweeter. His fingertips grazed the flesh exposed along her chest, and she
tensed, expecting him to disrobe her even though she’d begged him not to,
instead gentle fingers slid the silky fabric aside. His head dipped as he
tenderly kissed his way out over her shoulder blade never fully undressing her.
“You are so beautiful…
e
ven your imperfections are beautiful.”
“Drew…”
Then they were moving, her still clinging to the
front of him as he took three steps and lowered her down on top of the bales of
hay, all the while slowly exploring every inch of her mouth with his tongue. He
pressed her to her back, and she ignored the scratchiness under her. There was
the sound of his zipper as it was lowered, then with his weight settled over
her his thumb was sliding silk aside as he nudged into her. Anticipation had
her squirming under him, eager. His arms tightened around her, his chin pressed
into her shoulder, puffs of warm breath in her ear as he glided deeper until
she was completely filled with the size of him. Her hands grasped his bare ass exposed
by the lowered jeans, riding rippling flesh as he began a slow, smooth erotic
movement of making love to her.
Making love? If she was being honest with herself…that’s
what it was. It was more than sex. It was overpowering, all-consuming pulling a
cry from her as he took control of her body: mind and heart. It was all
happening so quickly. For two years she’d missed him and not allowed herself to
fully admit it. Her grip on him tightened, a desperation to get as close to him
as possible, for as long as possible. Exploring, her hands smoothed up his
spine, over his strong back, out along his shoulders pausing where she knew the
snake tattoo would be hidden under his tight black T-shirt. Her fingertips
wanted to trace his naked flesh and she wanted to know about his Ink. When he
got it? What it meant? Why did he only have one? Had it just been rebellion? Or
did it have significance?
He
was a mystery, still.
He
was also sinfully delicious in every way possible, and right now he was hers.
She
felt her climax building; her lashes fluttered and her neck arched as his pace
quickened hurling them both into ecstasy.
“Does he make you feel like this when he’s inside
you?” He whispered against her mouth swallowing her moans. His large hands
caressed the side of her face, and he gazed down at her with raw desire.
“I don’t know…” she gasped.
He rose up on his hands, still looking down at her,
his voice hoarse and pained, “Does he?”
“I don’t know!”
“Filly, answer me, does he make you feel like this?”
As punishment for her not answering he pulled out, reached
between them, teasing her swollen entrance with the promise of more of what’d
he’d been giving her, torturing her into submission. She squirmed, unable to
keep her hips from moving.
“Drew…” she warned, becoming impatient. She
clutched at his ass, attempting to force him back inside, where both of them
wanted him to be.
He grinned, slightly shaking his head, teasing. “No.
Not until you tell me what I want to hear… what I need to hear.”
“Okay! No! He doesn’t make me feel this way. We’ve
never had sex! Are you satisfied?” she shouted.
“No. Not yet,” he gave her a mischievous grin, and
then thrust deep inside her hard, giving her exactly what she wanted; fast
rhythmic movements.
His face tensed with his nearing orgasm as he rose
up, his arms slightly lifting her legs, tilting her high so he could slide
deeper. Her orgasm hit and she groped at his arms holding her legs. His face
distorted and he plunged as deep as he could go as he came, the feel of him
coming inside of her pushing her over the edge to her own climax. They clutched
one another tight until their bodies went limp. He breathed heavily into the
curve of her neck. A tender kiss was place just below her ear. His teeth nipped
at her earlobe. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured. His arms tightened around her
as he kissed his way up her neck, along her chin to her mouth. She could feel
him throbbing inside her.
There was the familiar sting of tears in her eyes as
she focused on the exposed rafter’s overhead and not the guy still inside her.
“I’m not on the pill,” she deadpanned against his soft lips when they reached
hers.
He tensed, lifting his head to look at her, “What?”
“I stopped taking the pill, while I was going
through the chemo. I haven’t needed to take it. I was going to start taking it
before Conner and me…”
He tumbled over next to her, carefully tucked
himself back inside his jeans and zipped up. She didn’t know if he was mad
about her not being on the pill or mad because she’d brought up Conner. All she
knew was she felt like shit now that the lust was no longer there to cloud her
judgment.
“This was a mistake,” she muttered. She stood,
adjusted her robe and retied it at the waist. Semen seeped out of her, wet and
warm between her legs, an uncomfortable reminder she’d just ruined her entire
life for a couple minutes of great sex.
“Can you give me a chance to say something, before
you start telling me how much of a fucking loser I am?” he ground out pushing
to his feet.
“What’s there to say? I’ve just hurt someone who’s
been nothing but good to me! Connor doesn’t deserve this!”
Damn. She’d said his name again.
Drew chewed on the inside of his cheek, his
expression serious as hell, his tone stern. “Give him back the ring and call
off the wedding!”
Her eyes widened. “Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
Unbelievable. He actually thought that was going to
work. He was going to bark an order, and she’d listen. “You have no right to be
giving out orders, Drew!” She motioned between them, “You and I are not
together!”
“We sure seemed together ten minutes ago,” he
returned nodding over at the place where they’d just…oh shit…the blood underneath
her skin heated at the memory.
“THAT… was just sex! My relationship with Conner is
different!” slipped out. She hadn’t meant to say it, regretted it after she
had, because something in him changed.
His gaze narrowed. A corner of his mouth inched up,
smugness oozing from him. He resembled his father more in that moment than she
cared to admit. “Well, that’s good to know. It helps lower any expectations I
had of it being something more.”
“I didn’t mean…” She felt she needed to explain
herself, which was crazy. It should be okay to call it for what it was, which
was nothing. Two people getting carried away.
Closure.
He took three steps putting them face to face. His
hands went to her upper arms, and for a second she thought he was going to kiss
her, instead he leaned in, warm breath in her ear, “I’ve spent my entire life
feeling like the biggest fuck up in the world. I don’t need someone else confirming
what I already know.”
He glanced down at where his thumbs were stroking
her bare arms, his hands slowly slid down, his fingers lifting and then letting
go. His shoulder bumped hers as he moved past her. She turned, watching him go,
this sick feeling churning in her stomach.
It was happening again. He was walking out on her. Without
any remorse. This is what she’d been trying to avoid. The ache. The empty hole
in her chest. “So that’s it? You’re going to do what you always do and just
give up?” She shouted at his back.
Was she challenging him? Was she begging for him to
do…something? Convince her?
He stopped at the barn door, his shoulders tensing. She
couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to to know it was blank,
emotionless. “I don’t need this shit in my life, Megan. It’s too complicated.
You’re too complicated.”
She picked up the first thing she could find which
happened to be a rusted horse shoe hanging from a nail on the stall door and
hurled it in his direction. The weight or it kept it from going far. “How
convenient …You always walk out right after you get what you want! Fifteen
minutes ago you were claiming my imperfections are beautiful, which is it you
son-of-a-bitch! ” Her entire body trembled with fury. Good Lord, she wanted to
fight with him, but he causally walked out leaving her standing alone in the
barn. What she wanted was to kill him with her bare hands. She didn’t know
which hurt more… loving him or hating him.
Would she be able to survive being left by him
again? ♠
Twenty-Two
Chris stood, feet apart, biceps flexing as he leaned
over tightening the last of it. He reached for the rag cleaning the black gunk
off his hands. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt; more
in his element than he’d been since he’d came out to the ranch. Cars.
Rebuilding cars was his thing. He was good at it. It paid the bills, and kept
his family going while his mother wasted away.
He heard footsteps and peered around the popped hood
to see Drew approaching. “How’s it going, Blister?”
“Blister?” Confusion formed lines between Drew’s
brows. The guy had been in a shitty ass mood all day, and Chris knew why. He’d
seen Megan rolling her suitcase out to the waiting cab at 9:AM. She took no
time for goodbyes. He could spot trouble in paradise when he seen it
“Yeah, you always show up after all the work is
done.” Chris smirked reaching in his back pocket and then swing an arm, “Here,
catch.”
Drew’s hand shot up. He turned it over uncurling his
fingers from around the set of keys. “Are you saying…?”
“Yep…she’s a running. The old man did an impressive job
of rebuilding the engine, a few minor adjustments here and there and she purrs
like a kitten.”
“How…” Drew swung open the driver’s side door and
slid in behind the wheel. He turned over the ignition , lightly stepping on the
gas.
“All she needed was a little lovin’ and an expert
touch.” Chris stroked metal, grinning.
The engine came to life for the first time in years,
and Drew could hear Tink doing a little happy dance saying, “Hot Damn! Mabel’s
back up and running!”
Drew slumped down into the seat, his head falling
against the vinyl, a corner of his mouth quirking up, “I feel like getting sloppy
ass drunk.”
Chris wasn’t sure if that meant his brother was
happy… or wanting to drink away a broken heart. An hour later they were at
Clyde’s with Lemon Drop shots lined up along the bar in front of them. 38
Special’s,
So Caught Up In You
blasted through the speakers. Drew tossed
back his head, downing his fourth shot, chasing the liquor with a sugar coated wedge
of lemon. He gripped the counter, hung his head and cursed. The bartender
glanced their way, laughed, and shook his head.
Yeah, the guy was definitely pacifying some major wounds.
Chris sympathized. “You okay?”
“Completely. Never been better! The bank reneged on
the loan they’d already ‘preapproved’…since all my fucking money’s gone and I
no longer have a down payment, AND the girl I love is getting married to Doogie
Howser …” he threw back another shot, “but, yeah, I’m more than okay…or will be
as soon as I find some hot babe to relieve some of the tension.” His eager gaze
was already sweeping the bar. Thank God, tonight the pickings were slim.
Although he felt certain Drew’s standards were clouded at the moment and he
wouldn’t be too choosey.
“Do you think that’s such a good idea?” Chris
shouted over the music.
“Got a better one?”
“Maybe, but it’s kind of out there…”
“I’m listening.”
“How about I give you the hundred thousand and we
both own equal parts of the ranch.”
Rich, deep laughter erupted out of Drew. “You’re
joking, right?”
Chris buried a hand in a pocket, and shook his head.
“Not at all.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Let’s just say I’ve come into a little extra money
and I think the ranch would be a great investment.” Not mention the sheer
beauty of spending Mackenzie’s money in a way that would irk the hell out of
the man. He had to make it convincing, “I don’t know we could… buy and sell
thoroughbreds. Horses could be a money maker.”