Rowan Revived

by Colbert, Taylor Danae

  I start stroking him slowly at first, letting myself get familiar with every inch of him. Then I push down his jeans, and slide my hand up and down wildly, squeezing him as I go. His head drops back with pleasure, and I pull him into me, letting my tongue draw trails up his neck. When he gets himself together, he continues his own work, letting his fingers dive deeper into my panties. He plays with me a little bit, letting his fingers explore my most sacred parts, sliding and gliding around in the moisture he’s made.

  Finally, when I can’t take anymore, he plunges two of them into me, pumping in and out, causing my legs to spread involuntarily.

  “Fuck, Jesse,” I cry out, clutching onto a lock of his hair as I throw my head back. My hand is still working in his pants, but it’s slowing down as I lose all control. He leans down to me.

  “We’re getting there,” he whispers. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of me and wraps his hands around my thighs. He pulls me to the edge of the counter, pushing my dress up over my knees. He bends down, leaving small kisses on my calves, knees, and thighs. He pushes my dress up, higher, higher, until all of me is exposed. His eyes flick up to mine, and there’s this flare in them, like he’s urging me to watch. His eyes still locked on mine, he reaches a finger up and gently slides my panties to one side. He lets a hot breath cover me, and my legs spread even wider. Then I feel his mouth on me, his tongue swirling, investigating like it’s going to draw a map. I say his name once, twice, three times, and I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge.

  He stops finally, coming up for air, and I’m panting like a fucking dog. He shakes his hips so that his jeans fall further, but then looks to me in worry. And I realize just what he’s thinking.

  “I’m on the pill,” I tell him quickly, careful not to let any of this phenomenal energy go to waste. He nods slowly, then steps back to push his boxers down over his hips. When he springs free, my jaw drops. I felt him, but I didn’t see him—-all of him, anyway—until right this moment. And holy. Fucking. Shit.

  He moves in on me again, twirling my hair around his hand and gently pulling my head back so that he can kiss me again.

  “My God, Lena,” he says, resting for a moment to put his forehead to mine, “I’ve wanted you for a long time now. So fucking bad.”

  I scoot my ass closer to the edge of the counter, urging him to keep going.

  “Then do something about it,” I whisper back, my hands gripping his ass and pulling him to me. In one quick, magical move, he reaches down, sliding my panties over to one side again, then thrusts into me, and my entire body reacts to him. It feels like every cell in my being is clenched around him, begging him not to leave.

  Our eyes lock for a moment, then he moves, faster, and faster, lifting me off the counter so that he’s totally supporting my weight.

  He’s pumping into me, harder, faster with every thrust, and I can’t get enough. I wrap my legs around him tighter, pulling on his hair, biting his neck.

  “Harder, Jesse, harder. Show me how bad you wanted this,” I whisper, and I’m almost surprised at myself. I’ve never been one for dirty talk, but I can’t help it with him. I’m only saying what my body feels. It’s the God-honest truth.

  It makes him moan with pleasure, and the next thing I know, we’re up against the wall behind us. He has one arm around my waist, the other pressed up against the wall above my head. He’s moving harder, faster, and I know I’m almost there. Finally, he carries me back to the counter, laying me down slowly. He lowers my head down in his hand, and kisses me again, hard. Then he drives into me again, over, and over, and over.

  “Lena,” he groans, and I feel the veins in his forearms push out as I’m clutching onto them.

  “Yes,” I moan back. “Yes.”

  Finally, in one more quick motion, he pumps into me one more time, and we both explode. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he finally lifts himself off of me.

  “My God, Lena,” he says, breathless. “I’ve wanted so much for so long now. So much.”

  And I wonder if he just means the immensely sexy scenario we just found ourselves in, or if he wants even more. If he wants what I want.

  After a few more minutes of basking in our glow, he helps me off the counter and straightens out my dress for me. His bare chest is glistening in sweat, and it’s all I can do not to lick it off.

  He kneels down for another kiss, but this one is long, and sweet, and slow. He goes around the back of the bar and brings out a roll of paper towels for me to clean myself up with, and bends over onto the floor to grab his shirt. He tugs it on over his head and shakes his sandy hair back into place.

  “Can I show you something?” he asks. I nod and take his outstretched hand. He leads me out of the washroom, up the stairs, and into his bedroom.

  We walk up to his room, and he motions for me to have a seat on his bed. I sit down cross legged, making sure my dress is covering everything—even though we’ve crossed that bridge now. He kneels down and pulls out a bin from under his bed. He lifts the lid and pulls out a dark brown leather photo album. It’s thick, with pages and corners of photos sticking out from every angle. He sits down on the bed next to me and takes in a long breath.

  “What’s this?” I ask. His green-blue eyes lift to mine.

  “This,” he says, opening the big book, “was my mom’s. It was her scrapbook, all about the Inn. Starting from the first day they bought it, up through her very last renovation.”

  He slides it over onto my lap, and I start staring at the pages. I see photos of his parents running all over the property, smiling in one of the big trees, holding hands down by the water. They look to be taken around the same time as the photo that I found in the kitchen drawer that day.

  Then there’s a photo of his mother in front of the inn with a big, round, belly. The inn appears to be freshly painted, and the flower beds are filled with color. The next page is a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Rowan, with a baby Josie between them. Then, there’s a photo of Josie on the porch, holding another baby in her arms.

  “Aw,” I say, “baby Jess.”

  He smiles.

  In some of the next photos, there’s new furniture on the patio. Then new bedding in the rooms, and the updates to the kitchen and bathrooms. The Rowans had proudly documented every improvement made to their home and business.

  There are photos showing the construction of the dock, and a few of the barn getting a facelift, the “Restaurant” sign being lifted into place.

  There’s a few photos of Josie and Jesse during their late teen years, sitting on the front porch with a very young Coby. There are photos of guests on the porch, smiling as they hold up glasses of lemonade.

  There are photos of Mr. Rowan and Josie in a kayak, Berta and Mrs. Rowan on the dock sipping margaritas, and Jesse with his arm around Mrs. Rowan’s neck, kissing her forehead. There was so much love here, once. And when I look up at him, I feel a lump rise in my throat. Because I know that now, there’s love here again. And I’m just not sure how long it can last.

  I swallow back my tears, letting my fingers glide over the faded photos.

  “You guys had such a beautiful life,” I say. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. Somehow, even after the night I had tonight—before Jesse gave me the most toe-curling pleasure I’ve ever felt in my life—my heart is still breaking for him even more than myself. I see all that they had—all that he had—and now it’s gone. He’s big and tall and broad and strong, but meeting that vulnerable side of him, the side that feels like he let down every last person he loves, makes him seem like a little boy.

  And yet, he’s so much more.

  He’s so kind, and gentle, and fun. He’s loving toward Caleb, nurturing, even. He’s reassuring toward Millie. And to me, he’s everything. He’s big and bold and brave, but warming up to the idea of being open with me on a regular basis. He feels like the home I never knew I was missing.

  “Hey,” he says, covering my hand with his. “Don’t be sad. I’m not
showing you this to make you upset. I just wanted you to see what you’re doing.”

  I look up at him.

  “What I’m doing?”

  He nods and smiles, sliding the book back over to his lap.

  “You crashed into this place like a hurricane, and I wasn’t ready for you. But I’m glad you landed here, because you kicked my ass into gear. All of these updates, projects on the inn that my parents did over the years, that was my childhood...these last few months with you reminded me so much of those times. You reminded me that I can keep this place running. I can make it that gem again. I can make them proud, even if they can’t be here to see it.”

  I stare at him blankly, blinking. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  “You’ve done so much for me and this place since you’ve been here, so much that you don’t even realize. And since you were willing to take a chance on the inn, and on me, I want to take a chance and open it back up.”

  I blink a few more times, my chest heaving up and down. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

  “That’s amazing, Jess,” I whisper. “It’s going to be great. I know it will.”

  He wraps his strong arms around my body, pressing me harder into him. I want him to ask me to stay. I want him to ask me to help him. To run it together. But if he does that, I might not be able to say no. And with Tiger on the hunt for us now, I know that’s not an option. I’d have to say no. I’d have to choose them, because they are my family. They’ve been all I have for so long, that I’m not sure where Jesse fits into that. And that very thought is making it hard to breathe, because it feels like he’s the missing piece to my puzzle. Without him, it won’t ever be complete, and yet, I see no other choice than to move on with that hole in my heart.

  25

  Jesse

  My arm is completely numb. She’s curled up on it, has been for hours, but I can’t bring myself to move it. She looks so peaceful right now, the most peaceful she’s looked since she got here. Like she knows that because I’m here, keeping watch, she’s okay to just be. To just rest, not think. And I love that. I love that I can give her that peace. I don’t ever want her to be without it again.

  After another half-hour, the bright morning sun creeps in through my window, and she squints and begins to stir. She rolls over to look at me, her coal-colored hair splayed out all over my pillows, and when the early-morning fog in her eyes clears, she smiles at me. I make a note to myself that going forward, I want to limit the number of mornings in my life that don’t start this way. Because I can’t think of a single thing more beautiful than this.

  She’s swimming in the t-shirt of mine that she’s wearing, the blue dress lying in a heap on the floor next to us. After I showed her the book last night, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. She makes me higher than any drug ever would—like some sort of human endorphin. And now that I’ve had her, I can’t stop. I want her in every single way.

  I told her I wanted to bring the inn back to life, to open it back up for guests. I wanted to run it like my parents did. Because of her.

  I wanted to ask her to run it with me. But I’m not good at this shit. I’ve never been any good at anything but a quickie in the parking lot. But with her, I want to be. I want to be next to her while we put this place back together. I want to watch her eyes light up when we finish a project, or when the rooms fill up for a weekend.

  But after Micah’s unwelcome surprise appearance, I’m scared to bring it up. Suddenly, my heart starts racing in my chest. I want to lay here with her all day. But I also want to get to my sister. I want to talk about options, ways to keep Tiger and the rest of the Bentley assholes out of here. Away from Lena, Millie and Caleb once and for all.

  “Morning,” she says groggily, blinking a few times and rubbing her eyes. She looks so hazy and peaceful that I feel myself melting. I want to rip that shirt right off of her and pick right back up from where we left off last night. And I happen to know that she doesn’t have any panties on. Easy access. But suddenly, her eyes grow wide, and she jumps up from bed. “Holy shit. It’s morning!” she says.

  She scrambles out of my bed, searching for her clothes. She pulls my shirt up over her head and tosses it to the bed, and pulls the dress back on, making my insides do all kinds of crazy things. She slips her panties back on, and every part of me sinks, knowing the chances for a morning repeat are officially out the window.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. Then we hear laughter coming from outside, and we turn to each other, “Shit. The kid’s up.”

  “Yeah,” she says. She turns to bolt out the door, but stops. She scurries back to me in the bed, pushing me up against my headboard. She straddles me for a moment, and dips her head down to cover my lips with hers. Her tongue slides on top of mine, reminding me that she’s my favorite flavor of anything. Ever. She pulls away slowly, those starry eyes staring into mine. She winks, then hops off and runs out the door. I give myself a moment to get collected, and ...ahem, softer, then hop up and pull a shirt on. I follow her down the steps and out the barn doors. As she jogs up the steps to the porch, Caleb’s running back across the lawn toward us. Millie’s on the front porch, one hand holding a mug, the other arm crossed over her chest. Josie sits in one of the rocking chairs. Their expressions are identical: one eyebrow raised, and a sly smile on their lips.

  But before they can make any sort of smart-ass, big sister remark, Caleb comes crashing to us.

  “Did you guys have a sleepover? Cool!” he exclaims innocently, staring up at Lena and me as he munches on a pretzel in his hand. I swallow and look at Lena. She smiles nervously, then looks back up at the sisters on the porch.

  Millie looks to Josie, and the two of them burst into laughter. I clear my throat anxiously, just as a shy smile tugs on the corner of Lena’s mouth.

  “Zip it, you two,” she says, just above a whisper, trying to stifle her own laugh. I want to go jump off the dock. But I’m also relieved to find a moment of laughter in what is sure to be a stressful day ahead. We’ve yet to bring up the Bentley brothers, and it’s a black cloud that is sure to turn into a storm.

  When they finally gather themselves, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, Josie stands up from her chair.

  “I gotta get back to the city tomorrow,” she says, her face growing more serious. “Did you guys want to talk about last night?”

  There it is. The reminder of Micah. All the lightness in the air is crushed, pressed to the ground by something heavier, something that we were avoiding altogether just a few hours ago, when Lena and I were buried deep inside of each other.

  I see Lena’s back straighten, and Millie’s expression changes instantly. I can tell Josie feels bad for darkening the mood, but I know she’s right. We need to talk.

  Lena clears her throat, looking to Millie, then back to Josie.

  “Yeah,” Lena says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “But can we make it a little later?”

  Josie’s eyes catch mine, and I shrug behind Lena’s back.

  “Yeah,” Millie says, her voice hushed as her eyes find Caleb running through the yard. “I have a lunch shift at Berta’s. Can we talk tonight?”

  Josie nods.

  “Sure, of course,” she says.

  Lena nods and thanks her, and they both walk into the house. I want to follow, make sure she’s okay, press her to talk to my sister. But I feel restrained by the wall she’s just put up, barricading her and Caleb and Millie. It feels like we need to be handling this sooner rather than later. It feels like we should be planning how to protect them from whatever move Tiger is planning. But Lena and Millie seem to want to put it off for now, and Lord knows, they are much more familiar with these types of situations than I am. But man, I wish they weren’t.

  I plop down on the porch steps, watching Coby and Caleb run from one side of the lawn to the other. I can’t help but smile when I watch them. It’s like they were made for each other. Coby changed, too, when my parent
s died. He lost his morning walk partner, my mom. He lost his best belly rubber, my dad. Even he looked at me with soul-crushing disappointment when it all landed in my hands.

  I sigh. I’ll miss this kid, too, if they leave. When they leave. Josie takes a seat next to me, her long legs dangling off the second step.

  “So,” she says, squinting in the sunlight.

  “So,” I say.

  “How deep in are ya with her?” she asks, without bringing her eyes to me.

  “Pardon?”

  “You heard me. How serious is it?”

  I look down at my hands on my knees. I know what the sane, sound answer should be. And I know that it’s the exact opposite of what I’m actually feeling.

  “I don’t know, Jo,” I say. “I know I want her—them—to be safe and done with this shit. I want to help them. I need to.”

  She nods slowly, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Jess, I know you care about her. About all three of them. Hell, I think we all do. Me, Berta, the whole damn town. Except maybe Amber,” she says, nudging me playfully. I roll my eyes. “I’ll talk about this all they want to. I’ll do everything I can to help them. But in the end, they have to know they’re safe. And they know this Tiger guy, we don’t. They’ll know whether or not a few words on a piece of paper will keep him away—which, judging by his idiot brother, I’m assuming they won’t.”

  I look up at her, my eyebrows knitting together.

  “What exactly are you trying to say, Jo?” I ask. She sighs again.

  “I’m just saying that even if I say all the right things, make all the right moves, get them the right help...they might still go. They might have to. And I just want you to be ready for that.”

  She stands up slowly, and puts her hand on my shoulder before she goes into the house.