These Reckless Hearts

Home > Other > These Reckless Hearts > Page 12
These Reckless Hearts Page 12

by E. M. Moore


  I set out on that path, but we end up taming each other. Every thrust I give him, he gives right back until we’re meeting with so much earnest that I swear he’s reaching parts inside me I’ve never felt before.

  Stone tangles his fingers in my hair, making me look up at him. He drops his lips to mine, kissing me senseless while I fuck Lucas’ cock. Wrapped in these three men, it’s not long before I feel the inkling of a massive orgasm. It rushes forward, and I break the kiss, crying out, “I’m going to come. Yes, Lucas!”

  As soon as I say his name, he drives me higher. “Come with me, Wild Girl.” Desperation laces his voice. “Fuck yes.”

  I nearly black out. Feelings sweep over me with so much force that I lose all time and place. I ride his cock, pleasure barreling at me from all sides. My cries echo around the mountains, reaching my ears the second time around as I keep clenching and clenching, prolonging both mine and Lucas’ orgasm.

  Lucas’ face is set in concentration as he loses himself, fingers gripping my thigh painfully. When I’m finally done, Wyatt and Stone carefully move me forward until I’m slumped over their friend’s rapidly rising chest.

  No one speaks for a solid minute. Eventually, Wyatt says, “Next time, I want to be the caboose.”

  A ripple of pleasure hits me again, and I shiver over top of Lucas. “I guess the good news is there’s no way they could have heard us, huh?”

  The three of them chuckle. “You keep believing that,” Wyatt snarks.

  “So what if they do?” Lucas throws out, pulling my damp hair around my ear. “We’re just four people in love.” My pussy clenches again, and he groans. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

  “Not even remotely. Stop saying nice things.”

  He locks gazes with me. “I love you, Dakota.” My pussy flutters again, and he closes his eyes and moans, “Jesus hell.”

  I bite my lip, enjoying the mini aftershocks. “Do you think you guys broke me?”

  Wyatt chuckles. “I think you might break Lucas if you don’t get off.”

  My cowboy helps me to my feet before dropping a kiss to my temple. Stone tangles his fingers with mine, and we stare at each other as if we’ve already found the Wilder treasure. It’s right in our damn faces.

  Lucas stands, but he comes to an abrupt halt, hissing.

  “What is it?” I ask, temporarily dazed by our most recent events.

  I don’t see him hop out of the stream until he falls to his ass again. I step closer. “It’s not your injuries is it? We shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” he growls. “I stepped on something in the creek.”

  Stone bends, fingers searching the riverbed for whatever sharp object hurt Lucas. His stare narrows as he tugs on something. “Found it but it won’t come out. It feels like metal. Wyatt, get the shovel.”

  Wyatt peers down at himself. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

  The glare Stone gives him makes my cowboy grudgingly move toward our packs, mumbling something under his breath. I inspect Lucas’ foot, but whatever got him doesn’t appear to have broken the skin.

  Wyatt comes back with the shovel, and Stone takes it from him. He drives it into the sand, pulling up wet mud and water and tossing it to the side. Wyatt, Lucas, and I move closer while Stone works until he reaches below the surface.

  He removes an object from the ground, water cascading from it in rivulets that temporarily disfigure what it is.

  When it comes into clear view, I gasp. “Ho-ly shit.”

  It’s a lantern. Exactly like the kind we’ve been searching for.

  15

  “No....” Wyatt exclaims in wonder.

  We all stare at the item hanging off Stone’s pinky in amazement. I run toward it, splashing through the creek before taking the base in my shaking hands. I move to the bank of the stream and use the shallow water to wash away the remaining sand clinging to the metal, then set it on a nearby flat rock. In the waning light, it’s difficult to see anything other than the general shape, but I can tell it’s the kind of lantern we’re searching for. The glass is obviously long gone, and the metal is rusty and eroded, but this is the right lamp for the time period.

  “Bring it to the fire,” Stone instructs. He starts striding away, still free balling it, before he seemingly remembers the state we’re all in. “Fuck. Let’s get dressed first.”

  I practically fumble getting my clothes together and decide to shove my bra down my pants without putting it on. My hands still tremble as I bring our find close to the fire. Once there, I inspect every last inch of it. If it’s the lantern we’re searching for, it will have the inscription on the metal.

  At least, that’s our theory.

  “Do you see it?” Lucas questions. My stomach twists into knots, and Stone practically knocks me out of the way to look for himself. He brings out his phone and turns on his flashlight app. Slowly circling the rusted piece of metal, he uses the light to scour every last inch, angling the phone for different views.

  The problem is, it’s so corroded, evidence of it being in water for quite some time.

  Stone hands it off to Wyatt who takes his turn searching. Lucas is next, each of them handling it like it’s a newborn. When we finish, we all sit back, staring at the item in varying degrees of apprehension and excitement. I bite my lip and have to tell myself to stop before I draw blood. I’m teeming with questions, with exhilaration that I need to pull back the reins on. Really, we’re not even sure if Stone’s theory about the three letters is actually correct, though his idea makes the most sense out of any I’ve heard.

  “In the stream…” Stone starts, bewildered. “Is it even possible that the lantern we’re looking for is there?”

  I spy the trickling water in the distance. We’re certainly within the area of the map we’ve designated as the place of interest.

  “Streams change course over time,” Wyatt offers. “A hundred years or more ago, it might not have been in the water.”

  I hold my head in my hands and start to rock. I know the treasure is real because I had the ring. But to think that the map my family has had all this time is actually usable? I can barely wrap my head around it.

  I want so badly for this to be the right lantern which is why I’m keeping my mouth shut. I don’t want to jump to conclusions. I don’t want to be one of those treasure hunters that automatically takes a piece of possible evidence and runs with it, declaring that they now know where the treasure is without authenticating anything.

  “It would explain why no one in your family had found it yet.” Lucas presses his lips together in thought. “I kept thinking maybe it was under a fallen rock, but the water works, too. What if it was there all this time, hidden in the creek bed?”

  Wyatt reaches over to rub my back. “Are you okay, Tits? You’re not saying anything and you’re starting to scare me.”

  The three of them peer at me. My mouth is so dry that it takes several tries to lubricate it enough to talk. “I’m...processing,” I murmur.

  “We have to get a professional to clean it,” Stone dictates, ever the one moving us forward. He eyes the lantern like a puzzle. “That’s the only way we’ll know for sure.”

  “And even then,” Wyatt continues, “the water could’ve eroded the letters away.”

  I want to add that even then, we’re only operating on the assumption that Stone’s theory about the letters is correct. My stomach squeezes and nausea rolls over me. “If this is what we’ve been trying to find, we better be able to figure it out.”

  Stone gets up, runs to his pack, and brings out the maps. He returns and lays them out on the rocky, desert floor, then places small rocks on the corners so the wind doesn’t whip it up. “If this is it…” Stone starts eyes widening. He stops himself a second later and breathes through his nose. He eyes us each in turn. “And I’m not saying it is… I want to do research first, but if it is—”

  I point at the valley between two cliff faces. “That’s where we go next. It’s e
xactly as the map is drawn. It’s why we were looking here.”

  Stone nods. “It would be up there.”

  The four of us turn to stare into the shadow-filled valley. It’s pitch-black, the two cliffs blocking all the light from the moon.

  Wyatt rubs my back again. “I thought you would cry from joy if we ever found this. I didn’t expect complete silence.”

  “We don’t know if it is that,” I counter right away.

  “I know,” he acknowledges. “It’s a lantern from the same time period, though. Right in front of us… It’s even intact for the most part. We haven’t found anything like this before. Ever,” he reinforces.

  My swirling thoughts rise up like a tidal wave. I bite the knuckle of my thumb to keep it all down because there is one tragic note lifting above the others: I want my dad to be here.

  How fucking fucked up is that? He’s not even my dad.

  But, in a way, he kind of was, wasn’t he? You don’t have to be blood related to be family. Taking the fact that he stole me from my real family out of the equation, he’s the only family I’ve ever known. I never had a reason to think otherwise.

  He told me it was okay for me to find it. He told me I deserved to.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Wyatt whispers. He gets in my face and makes me look at him. “I don’t care what it is that you’re feeling, it’s right. You hear me?”

  I shake my head. Wyatt would be the first to tell me that my father was a lying sack of shit, or worse. He hates him.

  And for fuck’s sake, when will I stop thinking about him as my father?

  A weaning cry escapes my lips. I shove my palm over my mouth to stifle it, but Wyatt takes my hand away and holds it, pressing his fingers into me. Stone and Lucas crowd in, too—the lantern temporarily forgotten. I feel dumb for garnering so much attention, but I just can’t with the emotions barreling through me right now.

  Lucas scoots behind me, moving his legs around my hips, and makes me lie back on him. He cocoons me in his warmth as Wyatt and Stone stay on either side of me.

  Right now, I understand why Wyatt got drunk and went to the jail where his mother is a prisoner. I get why he wanted to be so close to her while also probably hating her guts at the same time. Feelings are fucking tricky. They don’t always make sense. It’s easy for me to tell Wyatt his mother is a piece-of-shit excuse of a human being for killing his father and not caring if Wyatt got in the way of the process. Just like Wyatt can tell me until he’s blue in the face that my father was a fucked-up man. I get it...logically. But fuck, feelings aren’t sensible, they just are.

  “I need a drink,” I mumble.

  Wyatt presses his lips to my shoulder and then gets up, moving toward the tent where he disappears for thirty seconds before coming back out. “Since we had extra help, I packed one of these away.” He shows off a bottle of moonshine. “Straight from the Black Licorice,” he grins, referencing the moonshine bar in town. It’s actually a really cool place. They sell all different flavors, sweet and spicy. Some that will burn your throat like you just drank a lava stream, and some that will trick you and bite you in the ass the next day.

  “What kind is it?” Stone asks, grabbing the bottle from him and gazing at the label.

  “Chocolate caramel. You know I like it sweet.”

  Stone smiles while he twists the lid off, then he pours some back, throat moving as he swallows. He gets it down and then shakes his head a bit. “It’s got a kick but it’s damn good.”

  He hands it to me, and I take a swig. It’s sweet when it hits my tongue, but when it glides down the back of my throat, it gets hot, the kick that Stone was talking about in full force. I hand it to Lucas.

  “If we had cups, we could toast to this occasion,” Wyatt laments, gaze drifting toward me to see how I’m doing.

  Damnit, I love this cowboy.

  Lucas hands the bottle off to Wyatt, then wraps his arms around me once again. I lie back against his chest, staring at the stars. Footsteps travel around us in circles about fifty yards out, but I block the noise of the guards and stare at the twinkling sky. The midnight-blue expanse seems bigger here, like it’s waiting for us to make wishes. I can’t tell you how many times my silent hope was that my dad and I would find the treasure; that he’d be the one to do something his family couldn’t.

  Wyatt passes the now significantly less-full bottle back to me, and I take another swallow, warming my belly, before Lucas takes it off my hands.

  We sit there and drink. They don’t ask what I was upset about—not because they don’t care, but because I think they already know, and they don’t want to force me to talk about it. I’m grateful for their silence. I can’t even untangle the mess in my head, let alone try to explain it to them. It’s one of those things that defies logic and understanding. My heart feels one way in one instant, then changes drastically in the next. It’s like whiplash of the soul.

  Whatever I may think in any given moment, Clark Wilder will always be a part of my life, and that’s something I can come to grips with. Like Wyatt said, I’ll allow myself to feel. I’ll allow myself the thoughts—whatever they are. Even if I don’t agree with them. Even if they make me want to crumble.

  I lick my lips, watching the glitz above me. It’s as if the stars sparkle just for us.

  I may have found the lantern, Dad. I may have found it.

  In my heart, I know that if there’s any possible way he can watch us right now, he is. He lived and died for the treasure. He committed a heinous crime for our family’s legacy. He’d do anything, including getting a front row seat up in heaven for the search.

  “What do you want to do?” Stone asks, once again passing the decision making to me. It probably kills him inside, but he’s trying, and I adore him for it. This gift might even be better than any bouquet of flowers.

  It only takes me a moment to come up with the answer. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. If this is the lantern, we need to verify it ASAP, then we’ll know the route to take. If it’s not, we need to know that, too, so we can keep searching.”

  “But tonight,” Lucas gushes, lifting the bottle of moonshine up, “let’s get a little tipsy and pretend we just found an important piece of evidence to the Wilder treasure.”

  My heart thumps. It’s easy to believe when the alcohol is doing its job and deadening the stress, letting wild ideas take over. I take the bottle from him and lift it into the air. “Here’s to having sex in the stream and possibly finding the missing link. Who knew sex literally solved everything?”

  Wyatt swipes the bottle of moonshine away from Stone before he can get it next. “I knew that. I literally knew that all this time.”

  Footsteps approach as Wyatt gulps down more than his fair share. The good dude that Ninja is, he doesn’t avoid our gazes even though I’m positive he heard way more than he bargained for. My voice echoed and echoed and echoed.

  I’m not kidding. It kept going. That’s the nature of the Superstitions. It’s science or some shit.

  I giggle, happiness clinging to me. Maybe I don’t care that Ninja and Dave were an audience to our foursome because I’m starting to feel really good. Moonshine will do that to you.

  Ninja tilts his head as he watches us pass the bottle around. “Having too much fun?”

  I nudge the lantern with my toes, and he focuses on the piece of metal. We explained to him the significance of this item on our way up here. Maybe we shouldn’t have shared so much, but he was such a keen listener that we may have gone overboard. And obviously, Cole trusts him, so it’s probably okay.

  “You’re shitting me?” he effuses.

  I shrug, feeling giddy. “It might be.”

  He stares at it, mouth hanging open. The treasure will do that to you. He’s already jumped on the loot train. Chuga-chuga-choo-choo. All aboard!

  Lucas chuckles into my ear, and it’s then I realize I said that aloud. Oh well. I have my guys around me and maybe the first piece of evidence found in well over a hun
dred years.

  Take that, family legacy. I’m not even a Wilder and I’m going to find your shit.

  16

  This time when we return to Jacobs Manor, we do it as winners instead of losers—also with a hell of a moonshine headache. Even with that, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

  We dump our bags in the living area, and I search for Cole. The car he’s been using—a standard black sedan that doesn’t seem to fit him in the slightest—is in the driveway, so I know he’s here somewhere. I gave him my room, knowing I can bunk with any of the others, and I’m heading that way when Wyatt chuckles, the sound deep and rich.

  I turn to find him staring out at the pool, and I nearly lose it myself after I follow his gaze. Cole’s lying out in the sun, pale as a fucking ghost. He’s nearly a reflective surface, he’s so damn white. The only color to his skin is his tats.

  I squeeze in front of Wyatt to step outside, failing to contain the laugh that bubbles to the surface. I don’t think I ever imagined a leader of a fucking gang literally sunbathing. It should be a meme, truly. People would laugh their asses off.

  Feelin’ cute. Might kill someone today...IDK.

  Cole sits up from his spot on the half-moon bed, lowering his sunglasses.

  “I hope to God you’re wearing sunscreen,” I joke.

  He gives me the middle finger while he replaces his glasses. “A phone call that you were coming home would’ve been nice.” This is directed at Ninja who’s also smirking. Dave hasn’t uttered a peep since he was reprimanded yesterday. Fine by me.

  Honestly, when the sun isn’t glaring off him and hurting my eyes, Cole has major definition. He’s got a six-pack and then some with a defined upper body. He hides it well under all that black, or maybe I didn’t notice before because I’m not attracted to him.

  “Well, bro,” I say. “Don’t you want to ask us why we’re back early?”

  Lucas and Stone have joined us now, so we’re all clustered around the back patio by the pool. Cole inspects us. “Hmmm, you all look like death so either you got bit by something poisonous or you were drinking last night.”

 

‹ Prev