all roads lead to you

by Probst, Jennifer

  Fullness. Stretching. Heat.

  Pleasure.

  Her body squeezed him tight, even as she fought for breath at the complete and utter invasion. Buried to the hilt, he took a ragged breath, his gaze raking over her face. “Stay with me, love,” he murmured, patient as she adjusted to his girth. She rocked her hips a bit as the tension eased and her muscles relaxed, and he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “God, you feel so good. Tight. Perfect.”

  “And you’re so damn . . . big.”

  His laugh was low and intimate, and he took her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss as he began to move. His hands reached across and grasped her fingers, entwining them together and bringing them up beside her head. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled completely out. Paused.

  Then slammed fully inside.

  She gasped at the electric sensation, her sensitive clit pulsing, ready for the perfect pressure to detonate. But he kept up the rhythm, moving a bit faster each time, until she became trapped within the searing agony of sensual tension, hanging on the edge of the void of orgasm.

  “Aidan,” she pleaded, digging her nails into the back of his hand. “Please.”

  “Don’t want it to end.” His golden eyes glittered with savage intensity. “Want it all.”

  She groaned with frustration and did the only thing left to do.

  Squeezing her legs tight around his hips, she lifted up and, using the pressure of her body weight, forcibly flipped him over, with him still deep inside her. Climbing on top, she sank down fully, bowing back her body.

  “So perfect,” he breathed out, his hands cupping her small breasts. “Take what you want, Harper.”

  With a savage growl, she did. Moving her body to her own demanding pace, she found the angle that hit the shimmery spot, her clit scraping against his dick as she chased her orgasm, getting closer, until—

  His name ripped from her lips. She threw her head back and let the release wash over her in waves, riding it out for endless moments that stretched forever in glorious, brutal pleasure.

  He grasped her hips, bucked upward, and surrendered to his own release.

  Her muscles shut down one by one until she slumped over, stretched on top of him. Legs entwined, his breath on her cheek, her hair spilled in a mess over the pillow, she let her mind go blank and her limbs limp. Sated, she relished the floaty sensation of complete bliss.

  He pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, and relaxed into a full snuggle. They were quiet for a while, as if they both sensed the moment was bigger than any words. The scent of sex and sweat and musk lingered heavy in the air.

  He spoke first. “I don’t want to hide this from your family. Is that a problem?”

  Her heart swelled. She pressed a kiss to his carved jaw. “No, I don’t want to hide this, either. We’re adults. We know exactly what we’re doing.” She pushed the image of her brother and sister aside, knowing they’d ask a billion questions, but she’d deal with it later. Her path was different from theirs. She’d never been one to dream about white wedding dresses or babies or promises of forever. Aidan would give her all of himself for the time they were together.

  It was enough.

  Sleep threatened. She snuggled deeper into his warmth, her eyes beginning to slowly close. “What was that Irish term you said?” she whispered. “A curse?”

  He hesitated. Then his hand came up to stroke her hair back. He pressed his palm against her cheek and met her sleepy gaze with eyes the color of gold. “Mo stór.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He kissed her, slow and deep and gentle. Then smiled. “It means my treasure.”

  Warmth heated her blood. She smiled back. “No one’s ever called me anything special before.”

  She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder, and slept.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Returning home from Saratoga was different this time. There was a new excitement buzzing around Phoenix and his impressive win, and the town was already twittering about the upcoming Champagne Stakes. But the biggest change was her relationship with Aidan. Now that they were lovers, there was an intimacy difficult for anyone to miss, from the shared glances and occasional touches to stolen kisses in the barn. Sure, they were still professional, but their new connection was practically visible. Every night, they spent hours making love, talking long into the night, greedy for every moment stolen together.

  Her tummy flipped at the erotic images burning behind her lids.

  She’d told both her siblings about their affair in a calm, cool manner and asked that they respect her privacy. Both agreed, as if they’d suspected the relationship all along. There seemed to be no suspicion or judgment from either of them, which was a sweet relief.

  A few days after they’d settled back into their routine at the farm, Ophelia shot her a text to meet her at the inn.

  Harper looked down at her dirty clothes and groaned. Her sister liked to keep the guesthouse ruthlessly neat and organized, and she usually sought Harper out in the barns for a chat. She was tempted to tell her she was too busy, but her sister rarely asked for her company unless it was important.

  Dragging her palms down her jeans, she stuck the loose, sweaty tendrils of hair under her baseball cap and took the walk over. The woods were cool, and the musty scents of earth, leaves, and wildflowers tickled her nostrils. Her mind cleared, and she fell into the stark beauty of nature. Twigs snapped under her bootheels. Birds flapped their wings and screeched in song from the tops of trees. A tangerine butterfly took flight, floating in front of her as if bestowing a gift, then disappeared into the brush. By the time she reached the inn, a smile rested on her lips.

  Ophelia sat in a rocker on the front porch. Harper climbed the steps, frowning at the pitcher of sweet tea and the blueberry scones set out as if she were a guest. “Do you have something bad to tell me?” Harper demanded, dropping into the rocker next to her sister.

  Ophelia laughed. “No, I just wanted a few minutes of your time.”

  “You didn’t have to bribe me with your bakery goods to snag my attention,” she said, grabbing a scone and relishing that first bite. So good. Just like their mother used to make, with the sweet tang of berries amid the firm crust and soft center.

  “I wanted to. I feel like everything’s happened so fast these last few months. Kyle and I getting back together. Phoenix transitioning into racing. Mia and Ethan planning a wedding.” Her sister’s bright-blue eyes flickered with worry. “I feel like we don’t spend any quality time together. I miss you.”

  The declaration startled Harper, and emotion rose up and choked her throat. Damn, what was going on? She loved her sister, but they’d never been sappy with each other. Harper had never been comfortable with words of affection—she preferred action. But the way Ophelia looked at her caused an answering surge of sentiment to squeeze her heart. “Are you okay?” Harper demanded. “You and Kyle?”

  “Yes, we’re fine. I actually wanted to talk about you, Harp.”

  She blinked, confused. “What about me?”

  Her sister shook her head. “You really have no clue, do you? I want to talk about you and Aidan.”

  She took another bite of her scone and frowned. “I already told you about Aidan. We agreed to engage in an affair while he stayed to train Phoenix. He’ll end up returning to Ireland once we take Phoenix as far as possible, and I’m completely okay with that. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Harper jerked. Her sister rarely lost her temper anymore, but when she did, it was quite spectacular. She didn’t sport red hair for nothing. “Now I pissed you off? Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’d like from this conversation so I can give it to you and go back to my barn.”

  Her sister jabbed her finger in the air. “Cut it out, Harp. Oh, I know you think this whole thing with Aidan is simple and straightforward. Hell, you probably believe you’ll engage in some great sex, then tell him goodbye and move on with your life. H
e’ll be a lovely memory you treasure, and you’ll throw yourself back into the farm without a hitch. How am I doing so far?”

  Harper’s own temper rose, but she kept her tone crisp and cool. “Sounds good to me. You have a problem with that?”

  “You’re lying to yourself. Aidan is different from the other men you’ve been with. I see it every time you’re together. I see it in your eyes when you look at him. And I’m scared shitless that if you don’t stop pretending this is some type of sophisticated, fun affair for sex, your heart is going to get broken.”

  Her sister’s accusation arrowed straight dead center, tearing down the careful wall Harper liked to hide behind. Her siblings rarely pushed her on any private matters, knowing she preferred to deal with them in her own time and isolation. But this was different. Ophelia was ripping through the surface and searching for the real truth. A truth she’d been trying to deny since she first met Aidan.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Listen to me, for God’s sake. Just this once. I went through the same thing with Kyle. Believed I’d be fine because my heart was barricaded behind a defense mechanism that matched the Great Wall of China. I pretended it was just sex, and an itch I needed to scratch and get out of my system. But I knew the truth. It took me a long time to finally admit my feelings, and when I did, everything changed. You see, I was taking the coward’s way out. Too scared to step forward and declare I still loved him. It worked out for us, but it may not for you. Do you understand? If you deny what this man means to you, you may let him walk away and lose the love of your life. And you’d lose him with a lie. To me, that’s the worst way to lose anything. Don’t you agree?”

  Harper put the rest of the scone down with shaky fingers. This intervention was horribly intimate, and even though she knew her sister had good intentions, she wasn’t ready to tackle those type of truths.

  She just . . . couldn’t.

  Her sister’s gaze was fierce, and all mama bear. Harper reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tight. “Thank you for talking with me. I know it comes from a good place. But I can’t do this right now, Ophelia.”

  Her sister’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She blew out a hard breath. “Shit. You’re not ready. I get it. But I won’t apologize for trying. You’re my sister, and I love you, and I—” Her voice broke. Pain flickered over her face. “You’ve always been harder to reach. I know something bad happened to you a long time ago. When we were young. I never asked about it because I was afraid if I did, I’d lose you. But I’m here for you, Harp. Anytime you need me. Okay?”

  The memory reared up and swallowed Harper whole.

  Blinking fast, she rose from the chair and dropped her sister’s hand. “Okay. I gotta go back.”

  “Will you do me a favor? I’m singing at Crystal’s on Friday night. Will you come? I want to invite Aidan and Elmo, too. We want to have a bit of a celebration for Phoenix’s win.”

  “Sounds good, I’ll let them both know. We could probably use a bit of downtime away from the barn.”

  Harper climbed down the stairs, then paused. Keeping her back turned, she spoke to the woods, though she knew her sister heard.

  “I love you, too, Ophelia.”

  Then she went back to the barns—the one place she always felt safe.

  Aidan glanced around the restaurant and wondered if the romantic atmosphere was casting voodoo spells on his heart. Crystal’s was a fancy place decorated in dark wood and rich burgundy, with a glittery chandelier and real china. Tonight, he was glad he’d dressed up and looked nice.

  Or maybe it had nothing to do with the restaurant at all.

  Maybe it was just Harper Bishop.

  He sipped at his IPA and tried to focus on Kyle’s entertaining account of working in Hollywood. It wasn’t as if the man lacked the skill for telling an amazing story. It had more to do with the woman sitting next to him.

  She was dressed in her usual jeans but had paired them with a sexy beaded camisole that revealed more than it concealed. Her heeled black boots put her at his exact height. She’d foregone all other makeup except for red-painted lips.

  Instead of asking him if she looked good, or if she looked fat, or if he liked her new top, she’d strutted right past him without a second glance and announced she was ready to go.

  God, she was glorious. A total sexpot who didn’t give a crap what anyone thought. And now he found himself completely distracted by a million details he wanted to study. The way her dark-brown hair brushed the top of her shoulders. The way her eyes looked almost emerald against her dark lashes. The smoothness of her endless bare skin and sleek muscles revealed for his hungry gaze. The barest brush of her nipples pressing against the flimsy top. The delicious, familiar scent of cocoa butter drifting to his nostrils, making him want to howl like an alpha wolf.

  He heard his name uttered from a distance and tried to refocus. “Yeah?”

  “Ever think of writing your accounts into a book?” Kyle asked. “Horse stories sell pretty well. The public has always been fascinated by the racing scene.”

  Aidan grinned. “I love to read, man, but I despise writing. Besides, my life isn’t all that glamorous. Sure, my last horse won the Irish Derby, but most of my days consisted of boring, routine training methods. Let’s just say I’ve never had a Seabiscuit or Secretariat before.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t stick with Kincaid’s Crown,” Ethan said curiously. “That horse has a lot of wins still in him. What made you want to leave when he was at the height of his career?”

  The question brought a tingle of panic. He refused to lie, but hell, he didn’t want to go into the details of why he’d needed to leave. Harper knew the most, which still wasn’t much. He took another sip of beer and shrugged. “It was more of an administrative thing than my personal choice,” he finally said. “The owner decided on another trainer, and I took the opportunity to explore my options. I always like to take on new challenges. It worked out well, or I would’ve never met Phoenix.”

  Ethan nodded. Aidan relaxed in his chair. It was a fine line to walk between hiding the real truth without outright lying. Was it time to tell Harper the entire truth of what had happened in Ireland? She trusted him now. He’d be able to explain his side of the story. Now that they were sleeping together, she deserved to know the last of his secrets. He’d just have to take the chance that she’d believe him.

  Uneasiness stirred. What if she still fired him? Or believed his ex-partner over him? It was a possibility.

  His gut clenched. Maybe it was best to wait, at least until Phoenix won another race. Until he was sure their bond was strong enough for her to truly listen.

  Elmo interrupted his thoughts. “Aidan good trainer. He connect with horse’s heart.”

  “Where’d you guys meet?” Harper asked. He caught another whiff of her scent and thanked God the tablecloth was long enough to hide his burgeoning anatomy.

  “We have bar fight,” Elmo said.

  “Oh, I gotta hear this one,” Mia squealed, propping her elbows on the table, as if waiting for a bedtime story. Her sleek black dress and burgundy hair screamed trendy city girl, but Aidan had learned she was more comfortable with Ethan on the farm than anywhere else. “Who won the fight?”

  “I did,” Elmo said.

  “No, I did,” Aidan said. He gave the jockey a pointed glance. “I knocked out your tooth, remember?”

  Elmo glared. “Only loosened it. I gave you black eye.”

  Everyone burst into laughter. “What was the fight about, and how did you end up friends?” Kyle asked.

  “I met with the owner of a prospective horse I considered training. The guy suggested Elmo as the jockey. I told him Elmo wasn’t tough enough, from what I’d seen and heard around the track, and referred him to a different jockey. Fast-forward a few days later. I was in this dive bar, trying to mind my own business and get fluthered, and Elmo strolls in, asks if my name was Aidan O’Connor, and when I say yes, he belts me in the face.
”

  “No,” Harper breathed, those red lips pursed in fascination. She must’ve been wearing some type of gloss, because her mouth looked wet and shiny, like a freshly washed ripened apple. His dick pulsed with discomfort, and he shifted his weight, trying to ease off the pressure.

  “Yep. So I hit the floor, get up, and start swinging. The bartender throws us both out in the street, and we beat the crap out of each other until neither of us can move.”

  “I tell him never talk bad stuff about me again,” Elmo said.

  “After we got done bleeding, I gave him the job. Elmo was able to get that horse to place in a big stakes race. No other jockey was able to manage that fiery filly.”

  “‘True friendship can afford true knowledge,’” Elmo said seriously. “‘It does not depend on darkness or ignorance.’”

  Silence fell.

  “Thoreau,” Elmo said.

  Aidan grinned. Ethan and Kyle shared an understanding look. “It’s all about the respect, man,” Kyle said. “Nothing says respect like a black eye. Remember I gave you one after you found out Ophelia and I were secretly sleeping together?”

  Ethan grunted. “Dude, I beat your ass and barely allowed you to keep your pretty face.”

  “Fine. We both did good and beat the crap out of each other. Okay?”

  “Damn right,” Ethan agreed. They high-fived, raised their drinks, and sipped in a silent salute.

  Harper groaned. “Men are bizarre.”

  Mia sighed. “But the bromance thing has always fascinated me. Reminds me of those old Muppet men. You know, the grumpy ones?”

  Harper snapped her fingers. “Yeah! They sit in the audience and complain about everything, but you can tell they really love each other.”

  “They’re mean, too, but together, they’re kinda sweet, so you can forgive them,” Ophelia added.

  Aidan lifted his hand in the air. “No. You did not just take a good bar-fight story and warp it into the Muppets.”

  “We’re not fucking Muppets,” Kyle muttered in irritation. “We’re virile alpha men who settle our differences with our fists.”