by Emily Bishop
My eyes snapped wide, I looked back at him over my shoulder, admired his body, muscles rippling with every thrust, rocking me back and forth, and sweat dripping down his abs.
Ecstasy took me, balled me up then shuttled me into satisfaction. I tensed around him, disconnected thoughts rushed by—his hair shifted by the wind, blue eyes glazed over but still watching.
“That’s right,” he said. “Come for me. Come for me, Aurora.”
I threw back my head and moaned, crested the rise and crashed over the edge. Moon and waves. God. “Yes,” I whispered.
Jarryd’s cock hardened—impossibly huge now, almost painful. He throbbed inside me, once, twice, three times, and squirted deep, filling me with his cum.
Finally, he shuddered to a halt. Our breaths were the only sound, apart from a gentle rustle in the trees and…
“Yes, I’m going to view it again, right now. It might need some work.” The woman’s voice drifted between the trees, across the lake.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jarryd said. “Who’s that?”
Chapter 9
Jarryd
“Yes, I’m going to let you know what needs to be revamped. This is only my second look at the place.” The voice drifted closer, followed by the crunch of footsteps. Who the hell? Why would someone come here now?
Unless it was—
“Oh, shit,” Aurora whispered. She shimmied forth on her hands and knees then popped up right. “Crap in a handbag.”
“I thought you said no one came out here.”
“Is this the time to worry about that?” she snapped. “Run! Run before she sees us.”
I lurched to my feet, zipped up my pants, and chased after Aurora, around the other side of the lake. I tripped over a rock and stumbled forward, arms pinwheeling. “Chee-rist!”
Aurora stood at the tree line, hopping from one foot to the other, her naked breasts wobbling.
I stared.
“Hurry!” She tugged her bra straps up and covered them, at last.
I darted under the cover of the trees, as a woman in a pantsuit emerged from those on the other side of the lake.
Aurora crept behind a tree and beckoned for me to do the same. I stepped up behind her and leaned my weight against hers. Silent laughter rocked me. The woman, whoever she was, had almost caught us. We’d barely had time to register satisfaction before she’d arrived. Yet, all I could summon was exhilaration.
This was the most fun I’d had in… fuck it, in years. Silent laughter rocked me.
“It’s not funny,” Aurora whispered, but her shoulders bounced up and down, too, and tiny giggles escaped her.
“Shush.” I pressed a finger to her lips, inhaling that lavender scent.
The woman, carrying a clipboard with a phone pressed to her ear, rounded the other side of the lake and stopped dead. “What? Jeremy, I’m going to have to call you back. It looks like—no, nevermind.” She hung up and stared at my shirt and jacket on the ground, and the ruined picnic. Our shoes were there, too, kicked off in the heat of the moment.
“She must be the realtor,” Aurora breathed.
The woman tut-tutted and scanned the trees.
We both shrank back. “Let’s get out of here. I doubt she’s going to leave any time soon.”
Aurora nodded then turned and walked between the trees, picking her way over twigs and stones. “Watch your feet,” she whispered.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
The going was damn slow and nowhere near as uplifting as it’d been on the way over to the cabin. We were far from the RV park, probably closer to the side of Moondance with the hotel and all the responsibilities I wanted to escape.
Rod, who’d called me earlier and would lose his shit at me again. The movie. Pride’s Death was a fuck-up. Nowhere near as good as it could be, and Felicity’s gluey disposition had me on edge—every time I turned around, she was there, waiting to attach herself to my side.
So much at stake, and all I wanted to do was spend time with Aurora, who didn’t seem all that happy to have me as a part of her life.
A part of her life? You’ve known her a day!
But it was true. She was addictive, and I wanted another hit. I wanted it every day, all day. Not the sex, just her presence in my life. She didn’t ground me or hold me back, she freed me. I could be Jarryd around her, not the businessman or the actor, just me.
“Through here,” she said and took a dirt path to the left. Another one that had been smoothed out from what had to have been years of foot traffic. “This is the route I used to take to school every morning. There are a few of these paths through here.”
“It’s serene,” I said. “Was it like that for you when you were a kid?”
“Kind of,” she replied. “Sometimes I had after-school activities and it’d get dark quick. Walking through here at night was… an education of its own.”
“You had the balls to do that?” I pictured a fourteen-year-old Aurora, terrified, clutching a book bag to her chest and staring into the darkened gaps between trunks and branches.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she said. “I mean, I love it here, but it was still a forest at night, you know?”
“Fuck, yeah, I know. I’d have shat myself.”
She twisted, looked at me over her shoulder. “I highly doubt that. You don’t seem like the type who’s afraid of the dark.”
“The dark? No,” he said. “It’s storms I don’t like. I’m not afraid of them, just don’t like ‘em. The creepy trees, though… Shit, I’ve seen Deliverance.”
Aurora shuddered. “You and your movies.”
We hurried through the forest, and the soles of my feet caught on every rock, twig, and stone in existence. I’d need a foot massage after this. Or a salt soak, something suitably emasculating, which’d make me want to punch up some drywall to make up for it.
Silence but for the crackle of our passage, and a rustle every now and again. I caught up to Aurora and walked by her side.
“Why don’t you like storms?” she asked.
“It reminds me of my dad,” I replied. She’d been honest with me about her mother and her old home. I could trust her. She wouldn’t run to the media with this. You sure about that? Is it what Felicity would do?
“Your dad?”
“He used to do this thing. Every time a storm came, he’d lose his shit. He’d run around the house shutting everything off—TV, computers, lights, all the power basically, because he was convinced the lightning would strike the house and fry all our assets. I was a little boy and the dark, the noises, they freaked me out. Now, when I hear it, it reminds me of that time.”
“He was worried about money?” Aurora asked.
“More so than anything else. Certainly more so than he worried about me or my mother,” I replied, stiffly.
Aurora didn’t push for more information, and I appreciated the hell out of that. Talking about my father made me uncomfortable.
“Almost there,” she said, instead. “Brace your feet for some cold, hard tar. Or hot, hard tar.” She blushed at the “hard,” then cleared her throat.
“Anything’s better than this,” I said, as I stepped on yet another stone. Fuck it, were they propagating beneath me or something? This seemed spiteful.
Finally, we exited the forest and moved out onto the road—the surroundings were free of buildings, at least as far as I could make out, and it was quiet, no cars hurtling back and forth. What did you expect? This isn’t a fucking freeway. Or a city.
“Where are we?” I asked and raised my hand, squinting up and down the street. Wind whipped against my bare chest and iced the sweat on it.
“Close to the Moondance Motel. It’s fifteen minutes’ walk that way.” She pointed to her right. “And I’ll head back into the forest and walk back to the RV park from there.”
“What? Not a chance. You’re coming with me. I’ll call that cab friend of yours to pick you up at the motel.”
“Where everyone can see m
e?” she replied. “And talk about the gypsy whore –”
“Stop saying that.” I pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t even talk like that, Aurora. That’s not what you are, and no one can legally stop you from buying your old place based on public opinion. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of bad publicity.” I hated bad publicity, and I certainly didn’t want Aurora caught up in my world if it’d clip her wings.
But walking all the way back to the RV park barefoot was out of the question.
“You’re half naked,” she replied.
“So?”
“So, the implication is pretty damn obvious, if you ask me.”
I sighed. “All right, you’ve got a point.” The last thing either of us needed was one of the locals contacting a reporter with the juicy story that we’d been together at the hotel, me topless and her looking the way she did now, hair a mess and flustered, pink-cheeked.
She’s gorgeous.
“I’ll walk.”
“I’ll walk you back,” I said.
“Same problem. Someone will see us.”
Just then, a car rounded the corner up ahead and trundled down the road, between the trees. A glint on a windshield and the pop-growl of Luke’s ‘73 Porsche 911 swept toward us. The sound of that car’s engine—an air-cooled flat six—was unmistakable to me.
“What is it?” Aurora asked.
“It’s Luke,” I replied.
“He has a car. You told me you didn’t have a car here, remember? The night you turned up in my tent.”
“I don’t. It’s his car, and we did walk that night.”
Aurora raised her hand and shielded her eyes from the sun overhead. “He’s slowing down.”
“Good,” I replied but my insides jolted regardless. “Maybe he’ll save us a walk into town.”
The car slowed to a halt beside us, and Luke cut off the luxurious growl of the engine. God, I adored the sound of that car. He opened the door and slipped out, resting his arm on the roof of the car. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
I looked down at my bare chest, the smattering of hair there. “You’ve caught me at a disadvantage.”
“Have you been drinking again? More blood of the ancients?”
Aurora snorted a laugh. “Blood of the ancients?”
“Beer,” I said. “It’s an actor thing.”
“It’s a crazy thing,” Luke corrected and took off his sunglasses—a pair of aviators. He inserted one bow between his lips and sucked on it, looked Aurora up and down. Thank god she wasn’t topless. “Aurora, right?”
“Right,” she said. “You were in the store the other day.”
Luke nodded. “You’re not going to start talking about eggs again, are you?”
Another laugh, this time longer and sweeter. It tickled the back of my neck.
“Don’t tempt me,” she replied, eyes twinkling. All the uncertainty from a couple minutes ago had evaporated. Was it a mask she’d put on? She was an enchantress, one second concerned, the next caring, and the next, mysterious, sparkling. I could barely keep track of my thoughts around her, and my emotions toed the line.
“So, what are you two cute kids doing out here?” Luke asked and clacked the long arm of his sunglasses against his teeth. “Get a little hot there, Jay?”
“No, I was taking a walk with Aurora. She showed me some property she’s interested in.” That would have to suffice. “I lost my shirt after I ripped it on a tree branch.”
Skepticism oozed from my friend. “You sure a raccoon didn’t run off with it?”
Another laugh from Aurora.
Why did Luke have to be so god damn charming? Are you actually jealous? Christ, since when do you get jealous?
“Perhaps you could show me this real estate some time?” Luke asked. “I’ve got an eye for this type of thing. In fact, I might be interested in buying down here.” He wasn’t flirting. The charm-o-Luke was his style.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, in clipped tones. “Aurora has already made her decision. Anyway, we need a ride into town. Care to oblige, big guy?”
Aurora stiffened and stared at me, lips drawn into a thin line. Shit, what did I say?
“Sure, hop in, folks.” Luke patted the top of the Porsche. “Limited seating. First come, first serve. One of you may have to sit on the lap of the other.”
“I’ll walk,” Aurora said. “Thanks for offering, though. Very kind of you.”
“Walk? You’re barefoot.”
Aurora spread her arms and smiled. “Consider it my natural state. I’m a gypsy.”
Thank god, she didn’t add in the “whore” part.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “You’ll cut up your feet. Get in the car. We’ll drop you off at the park.”
“No,” she said. “Thank you. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”
“What? Aurora—” Was that what she thought? I was the one who wanted her to come back with me, for fuck’s sake.
“Have a good day, guys.” She nodded then set off down the street.
“Aurora!” I started after her.
“Dude, let her go,” Luke said. “If she wants to walk, she wants to walk. What can you do?” He fired up the engine of the car. “What did you do to piss her off?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “I honestly have no idea.”
Chapter 10
Aurora
The concrete burnt the soles of my feet, and the soft rustle of wind in the trees on my side of the road did nothing to calm me. I was hot, all right, hot from the outside in and inside out. He was embarrassed of me.
The minute Luke had said anything approaching friendliness, Jarryd had clammed right up and shut it down. He didn’t want me knowing his friends, and that meant he didn’t see me as anything more than a passing attraction. A sideshow at the carnival. Literally.
Man, I’d screwed the pooch on this one—ew, horrible saying, accurate as it was.
I stomped toward the friendly welcome sign, painted with a crescent moon and the happy, bold font: Welcome to Moondance!
Thankfully, Luke and Jarryd hadn’t roared past in their sports car yet. Perhaps they’d decided to take a country drive before returning to the town. As long as I didn’t have to put up with the resultant awkward tension, I didn’t care.
Except you do care. You care too much, now. What are you going to do about it?
In the past, whenever I doubted anything, I’d whip out my tarot cards and do a reading.
Clear out my thoughts. But the prospect of doing that now twisted my gut. It reminded me that I had bigger problems than the gorgeous Jarryd Tombs.
Work had been super quiet at the carnival, and there were only a few days left before it closed entirely. What then? How would I save up money to buy Mom’s place if I couldn’t earn my way?
I knuckled my forehead and entered town, passing the barbershop and the ladies’ boutique along the way. A few people stared, most lifted a hand in greeting. They’d grown accustomed to my presence, at least, even if some of them didn’t like it.
Like that guy in the butcher’s. He gave me the stink-eye and wasn’t shy about it then turned his back to the window.
The mix of reactions didn’t puzzle me.
“People don’t understand us, Aurora. And what they don’t understand, they fear. Don’t let it bother you. Just keep on keeping on, honey. Your star shines too brightly for some folks.” That was what my mother had told me, various iterations over the course of my life.
I shook my hair back, ran my fingers through it, and tugged out a couple knots. I had to keep looking and moving forward. Strong as a rock, changeable as the ocean’s tides.
“Aurora,” a man called out.
I turned my head, and my mood lifted right away.
“Jerry!” I waved at the elderly fellow across the street, perched on the edge of an outdoor picnic table in front of the Moondance Bar and Grill.
The establishment had been around since I could remember, its
four-paned windows peering out at the street and the forest behind, the rumble of laughter and conversation leaking from its open door. Along with it came the enticing scent of grilled meat, tangy with Jerr’s famous BBQ Sauce—a secret recipe he’d take to his grave.
“Come on over, girl.” He beckoned.
I hurried across the road—ouch, hot—hopping like a frog on hot tar, and halted in front of Jerr, the man of the hour.
Silver hair, disturbed by the breeze, covered his crown, and his green eyes gave me the fatherly onceover I’d grown accustomed to in the time I’d worked in the restaurant. “Hale, I see. But what possessed you to walk around barefoot, girl? You lost your marbles?”
“I may well have,” I replied and stepped onto the grass in front of the Bar and Grill.
He patted the table then sat down on one of the attached seats. “Yee-ouch!” He shifted and adjusted the seat of his pants. “Darn, splinters. Don’t tell Georgia I said that. She’s been at me for months to sand down these damn benches.”
I grinned at him. “So? Why haven’t you?”
“Too busy with other things, of course. I’ll get to it in due course.”
In due course could range anywhere from a couple months to a year with Jerr.
I took my place opposite him and rested my tired feet on the grass. “That’s better,” I said and tipped my head back to catch the wind. Coldness pricked against my skin, the cooling of sweat I’d worked up on the way over.
“How are you, girlie? You haven’t come by in weeks.”
“I didn’t want to inconvenience you,” I said, “I know how busy you are.”
“And I know you’re struggling,” Jerr replied. He was a salt-of-the-earth kinda guy and always said what he meant, even if it brought out blushes and awkward laughter.
“Jerr, I’m fine.”
“Aw, hell, you and I both know the people in this town aren’t partial to fortune-telling or tarot cards or that other thing you do with the hands.”
“Palmistry?”
“Palmistee, yeah. Now, I’m not trying to stick my nose in your business but I don’t want to see you go hungry because of the assholes in this town,” Jerry finished, a little too loudly.