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Under The Same Sky (Horseshoe Bay Book 1)

Page 18

by Tamsyn Bester


  “We don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to.”

  She cants her head so she can look at me. “It’s fine, I want you to know about my life, Thorin. All of it.” The tub doesn’t allow for us to be side-by-side, so she looks away, her free hand absently tracing patterns on my thigh. Her body goes lax, and I get the impression that she not only trusts me, but that she’s also okay talking about her parents. It wasn’t something I expected, but again, everything about Reese since I came home has been unexpected. The way she carries herself, her strong sense of self, her ability to forgive. And they way she loves Eli, so wholly and without permission. “You know I missed graduation, but I spent the summer before college in an out-patient therapy program. I still lived at home, though, even though my mom wanted nothing to do with me. Dad still cared, I guess, because he persuaded her to let me stay. I was actually going to spend the summer with your parents, and Ryan and Mel, after you left. That’s what I wanted.” She’s quiet for a moment, and I give her the chance to gather her thoughts. I’ll sit here until the water turns cold, if that’s what it takes for her to open up. I want to see all of her, every good and bad and ugly thing that’s made her who she is now. “Anyway, it was in one of my mandatory therapy sessions that I told my psychiatrist I wanted to leave, but also not be under my parent’s control. I wanted to be responsible for myself. That’s when she suggested emancipation, and after doing some of my own research, I decided to petition, with the help of my psychiatrist, to be legally separated from my parents.”

  “Wouldn’t they have contested your ability to make such a decision?” I ask. “After what happened?”

  “I prepared for that. My psychiatrist actually built a case of child abuse and neglect against my mother. Months of hypnotherapy revealed the extent of her emotional, mental and psychological abuse, and tapes of what I said while under hypnosis painted a very ugly picture of what my mom did. She’s a narcissist, and she was cruel. She not only sent me to those horrid camps for overweight kids, but she starved me because she hated how I looked. The irony though, is that I’m built like my dad, he was also overweight, but it was me who embarrassed my mom. She used to tell me I’d never amount to anything because I was fat, and that no one would ever love someone who looked like me. Said I’d be lucky if a man ever gave me the time of day because men don’t like fat girls. She’d find out about the teasing at school because the guidance counsellor, Mrs. Finch, would call her, and when I got home from school, she’d tell me I deserved it, that maybe if I lost the excess weight, I’d have more friends and people would like me more.” Jesus fucking Christ. “My therapy, on its most intense days, would reveal how I believed her, how I thought I was unlovable because I wasn’t skinny. The day I gave my parents the papers to sign, legally absolving them of all responsibility of me, I also gave her the evidence we’d present to a judge if she contested it. Needless to say, she signed willingly, and so did my dad.”

  “God, Reese.” I wrap both my arms around her. “I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been.” I kiss her neck. “What did you do after that?”

  “I actually stayed with your parents for a while, and then I went to Auburn University in ‘Bama. My dad transferred money to my account before I left, though. Four years tuition and housing paid up front, with a whole lot extra. I contemplated giving it back, because he wouldn’t buy my forgiveness, but I had to pay my first year’s tuition and boarding somehow. When I turned eighteen, I became a trust fund baby. My grandparents on my dad’s side had it set up when I was born, and no one could touch it, even though my mom tried. I never thanked my dad for his money, nor did I give any of it back when my trust fund became available. He knew where I was, but never sought me out, and eventually, I was able to let go of it all. I was referred to another psychiatrist in Auburn, saw her twice a week like clockwork until I graduated.”

  “And they’ve never tried to contact you again? Ever?”

  “Not a word,” she sighs, “but it’s better that way. Before Ryan and Mel died, I loved my life.” She looks at me again. “Not that I don’t love it now, because I love Eli, but it’s—”

  “Different,” I finish for her, needing no explanation. “I know. And Ryan and Mel would still want you to love your life now, you don’t have to feel guilty about that.”

  “It comes and goes, you know? I have moments when I’m okay, and I’m happy, and other moments when I feel sad, and guilty for being happy. I would give anything to have them back here with us.” I wipe a tear from her cheek, my chest cracking in two because I know how she feels. I feel it too.

  “So, how’d you end up here?”

  “Ah, here’s the real kicker,” she laughs humorlessly. Still, there’s no pain in her voice, and it astounds me, how easily she can talk about her past without allowing it to consume her or define the decisions she makes now. “When I came back to Horseshoe Bay, my parents had sold their house and left without telling me. Not that I had a right to know, I just…” she shrugs.

  “You deserved better, Reese.”

  “I did, but I also had to realize they were never going to give that to me. I knew what I was asking for when I petitioned to be emancipated, but there was always a small part of me that hoped, I guess. Then I came back, and they were gone. And that’s kind of how I ended up living with Ryan and Mel. I showed up, unannounced, and your brother offered to have me stay on the ranch for as long as I wanted.”

  “Sounds like him.” Ryan loved Reese like a little sister, always had, and I want to believe that she ended up staying here for a reason, that maybe we were meant to find each other again. Of course, I never imagined it would happen like it did.

  “I knew after Ryan and Mel got married that they’d want to start a family, but when I suggested finding my own place in town, he suggested building a house for me on the ranch instead. My business had started taking off, and I could afford a small townhouse, but Ryan didn’t want me to leave, said this is my home, too.”

  “I’m glad you stayed, that you were here when I couldn’t be.”

  Carefully, Reese turns around, and straddles me, but there’s nothing sexual about it. “I never asked Ryan about you,” she bites her lip, “but I want to know about your life. Is being a rockstar everything you thought it would be?” The glint in her eyes reveals an almost child-like curiosity. It’s honest, and real. She’s asking because she cares. Because she’s one of very few people who really know how much music has always meant to me.

  “Yes, and no,” I admit. “The music part is so much more, I love writing the songs, and performing, but being in the spotlight took some getting used to.” She snatches the loofah from my grasp, and starts rubbing my chest, my stomach. “Being on tour was always exciting, but also exhausting. I didn’t always know which city we were in, and then there were the parties that just seemed to blend together, but also get wilder and wilder. We had no problem indulging in the beginning, we took full advantage of the money, and the fame, but two years into it, it started getting old, and the more time I spent on the road, or back in New York or London, the more I started missing home. I started hating that I missed my parents’ birthdays, and family holidays, and when Ryan told me they were expecting, I decided I was going to come home and stay a while, take a break from touring. I wanted to be with my family again, especially after Dad died. And now, I’m here.”

  Reese leans forward, and presses her forehead against mine. “Would you be offended if I said I’m glad you came home?”

  “Not at all.” I pull her closer to me, until I feel her chest moving up and down with every breath. I didn’t realize I was fractured until Reese tore me apart, and put the pieces back together again. Now, they make sense. “I was serious about being here permanently,” I add, searching her gaze for any kind of uncertainty, and finding none. “I want a life with you, and Eli. I want this life.”

  “I want that too,” she whispers. “Do you think Ryan and Mel would be okay with that?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah, babe.” I touch her cheek. “I think they would be.”

  And I do. It might not be how I wanted a family, but it’s what life has given me. It’s my family now, mine to love and to cherish. Reese brushes her lips across mine, digs her fingertips into the column of my neck. “I used to imagine what it would be like to kiss you,” she whispers, her cheeks turning rosy from the admission.

  “And? Does kissing me live up to your expectations?” My hands slide down her back until the round globes of her ass fill my hands.

  “No,” she shakes her head. “It’s so much better.”

  We end up making a wet mess in the bathroom, but I don’t care. Because it’s her, and it’s me, and it’s a perfect metaphor for what we’ve always been, I guess. A mess. But it’s ours, and it’s us, nothing else matters.

  Reese shoves my shirt over her head, and ties her hair up before sliding into bed beside me, phone in hand, a smile on her face.

  “What’re you smilin’ at?”

  She looks up, and shakes her head. “I just texted Mya to check on Eli. He pee’d on Fletch, twice, but he’s asleep now, and Fletch and Mya are watching movies.”

  I snort. “I know that feeling.”

  “Eli’s peed on you?” Reese tries to hide her laugh behind her hand, but fails miserably.

  “More than once,” I grumble.

  “Guess we know who his favorite is then,” she smirks playfully. “The godparent he doesn’t pee on.”

  “Funny,” I deadpan. “But I hardly think who he does or doesn’t pee on is a good yardstick for measuring favorites. Although, I have to admit, the kid definitely has the family jewels.”

  Reese scrunches her nose. “Well, until you, I’ve had nothing to compare it to, but now that…” Color blooms in her cheeks, and travels all the way down her neck. I bet if I were to lift the shirt she’s wearing, her chest would be red too. So expressive, and apparently quite shy when it comes to talking about sex. We’ll have to fix that. “Oh, God,” she covers her face, and giggles. “He totally has the family jewels.”

  “It’s a Decker thing,” I chuckle. “But why are you blushing? Is it because you can’t stop thinking about my dick?”

  She thins her lips, and tucks her head against my chest.

  I laugh. “You’re really blushing.”

  “Am not.” Her rebuttal is muffled, but I can feel her smile against my skin. Her phone chimes again, the light illuminating her face. “It’s after midnight,” she yawns. “Which makes me think Mya is a sadist for staying up late.”

  “We’re awake,” I remind her.

  “For a whole other reason. I’m usually in bed by nine, and so is she.”

  “Fletch probably coerced her into staying up with him, he only goes to bed at around two a.m. Which reminds me, what’s going on with Mya and Fletch anyway?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought I was imagining it, but they’ve been flirting.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I ask. Pre-New York, I admit, I didn’t like the idea of Fletch and Mya, but after the way he acted tonight, I think he might really care about her. In what capacity, though, I’m not sure. Reese twists her head, and glances up at me. “She just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know her to be into casual hook-ups, if that’s what they’re leading up to.”

  “Who says Fletch is into casual hook-ups?” He is, he doesn’t date, but I’m curious to know what Reese thinks of my friend, and bandmate, if she harbors any bad feelings towards him. He was, after all, part of the shit that happened in high school, and just because she’s forgiven me doesn’t mean she’s done the same for the rest of the band.

  Reese rolls her eyes. “Please, Fletch has never been into anything serious, I can’t imagine that changed when he became a rockstar.”

  “It didn’t,” I chuckle. “Would it bother you if something happened between them?”

  “Would it bother you?”

  “I thought it would, when I suspected something was going on before we went to New York, but it’s really none of my business. They’re both adults, and if they want to have some fun, who are we to stop them.”

  Reese purses her lips, and silences her phone before putting it on her nightstand. Then she’s settling into my side, throwing her leg over my thigh. It’s a good thing I’m back in my sweats, they’re doing a good job of keeping my hard-on at bay. The last thing I want Reese to think is that all I want from her is sex. Besides, we went at it twice in the bathtub, she has to be a little sore.

  “I just know Mya. And I’m not saying Fletch is a bad guy, I don’t think he ever was, but she’s vulnerable right now, even though she hides it well. I just don’t want her to get hurt, you know? She’s my best friend, and he’s yours, if things don’t work out then I don’t want it to be weird. She’s going to be here for the foreseeable future, and you guys are too, right?”

  “At least few months,” I concede. “I want to be here while they build the studio, and that’s going to take some time, so will recording the next album.”

  “Have you guys started working on it yet?” She stifles another yawn, and gives me a sleepy gaze. “The album, I mean. I know you’ve been writing new songs.”

  “Not yet, but soon. So, you and Mya met in college then?”

  “Freshman orientation, and then we were roommates in the dorms until we got our own place junior year. I don’t have a single memory of college without her in it.”

  I reach over and turn the bedside lamp off. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Reese.”

  “Well,” she yawns again. “If he hurts her, I’ll kick him in the nuts, and you’re not going to stop me.”

  “I’ll help you.” I kiss the crown of her head, and a few minutes later, she’s asleep, her rhythmic breaths the only sound in the room. I could get used to this.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Reese

  I lean one hand on the counter for support, and grip Thorin’s neck with the other.

  “S-so close,” I stutter, caught up in the sight if his dick sliding in and out of me. I’m perched on the kitchen island, feet spread wide, and at the perfect height for Thorin to take me like this. And good God, the angle. He hits me deep, every. single. time, and when that glorious spark ignites at the base of my spine, my toes curl, and Thorin’s grasp on my hips tightens.

  “Fuck, babe,” he grunts.

  Yes, fuck indeed. And he does it so well, too. The man is relentless. And insatiable, it seems. He took me from behind only hours ago—I’m running on four hours sleep, people, but don’t mistake that for a complaint—and interrupted me while I was making breakfast, to, well, have me for breakfast. I bite my lip, and try to swallow the sounds crawling up my throat. At this rate, I’m going to make sure the whole of Horseshoe Bay knows what we’re doing. As it is, were anyone to walk past my living room windows, they’d get a front row view of Thorin’s ass.

  “Get there,” he growls, pulling me right to the edge of the countertop. He rubs his pubic bone against my clit—this position gives the man full access—and circles his hips. My mouth pops open, and my pussy clenches. Rather than scream—because, let’s face it, this man’s fucking calls for screaming—I sink my teeth into his shoulder, and bite. Hard. Which is what sets him off. Our orgasms trip over each other, and his muscles tense, our bodies riding out the exquisite high together.

  “Jesus,” he breathes, his hips slowing. “I thought taking you from behind made me come hard, but this…” he shakes his head, his forehead sweaty.

  I look at where my teeth sunk into his flesh. “Well,” I exhale, “that’s gonna bruise.”

  “Crazy woman,” he chuckles.

  “Who knew, huh?” I wipe my hair from face, and he tilts my chin, kissing me deeply. So deeply, and so throughly, I squeeze his dick one last time.

  His hips piston once in response, and I giggle. “Sorry.” It’s muttered against his lips. He slowly pulls out, and drags his sweats up over his ass.

  “Don’t move,�
�� he tells me, a glint in his eye. He stares at my bare pussy, no doubt at the warm liquid I feel is…my cheeks warm. Oh, Jesus, he’s so watching his cum leaking out of me. He walks backward, and disappears into the guest bathroom in Mya’s room, coming back with a warm cloth to clean me up. I should be doing it myself, but my legs are kind of stuck. He realizes this, and once he’s satisfied I’m clean, he helps me stand, allowing his giant shirt to cover my lower half. My underwear’s around here somewhere. With my luck—oh, look, it’s on the ceiling fan.

  “Happy now, Caveman?”

  He plants his hands on either side of my hips, and gives me a wolfish grin. “Very. But, after that, I think it’s best we eat. For real this time.”

  On cue, my stomach grumbles, and so does his. He kisses my forehead, and it’s a sharp contrast, his tenderness, to what we were just doing. The man’s a beast. “Get comfortable on a chair, and I’ll cook, since I was the one who…distracted…you the first time.”

  “Uh, do you think you could…” I point to where my pink cotton panties are hanging precariously from a fan blade. He spots them, and laughs. “Grab those?”

  I swat his ass as he walks past, and with little to no effort, he swipes my panties. I slide them back on as soon as he hands them to me, and rather than have him do breakfast alone, I choose to help. It’s quicker with two of us, and in no time, we’re both seated, stuffing food in our mouths. He shoves his plate away, and wipes his mouth, chuckling when he sees I ate just as much as he did, if not more.

  “Hungry, huh?”

 

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