by Vivian Arend
He laid a hand high on his chest, fingers touching his neck.
Ivy’s head tilted as she laid her hand over his and stroked softly. “You’re not the first person to feel this way. Although I’m sure that’s not reassuring considering society doesn’t let guys deal with emotions easily.”
“Please. I’m man enough my ego can handle knowing my brain is out of kilter, but that doesn’t help me fix this.” He linked their fingers, hands dropping into her lap. “I know I have a problem. I can’t ignore it, and I can’t work around it. God, Ivy. I have a chance to go on tour with the same band I filled in for on that recording you heard tonight. Maxwell keeps talking up ideas of things that could happen in the future, but how can I build a career in something that’s done in public when I can’t tell when I might freeze again?”
She listened intently.
“And I need to do something big, or else I’m not going to be able to help the family.”
Ivy gave him a light smack on the chest, lips tucked into a pout as she scolded him. “You’re a bigger help than you give yourself credit for.”
“If I can’t bring in money, I’m not.” He caught her hand and returned it to his chest. “Caleb says things don’t look good with the ranch. I need to get my head on straight. I need to be able to tell Maxwell yes, and he’s only given me till the end of summer to decide. If I don’t sing, I’ve got to figure out how to keep my ass down on a bull for long enough to score. Those are my only options.”
She was quiet for a while. And just looking at her, he could tell she was working on the right thing to say. The right words of encouragement.
The moment was too familiar.
A memory of their past snuck in. Ivy, fighting back tears because she didn’t want to leave, even as everything in her wanted to take the next step.
Him, forcing himself to say the right words. The unselfish ones, the ones that allowed her to follow her dreams, even though it was like tearing out his heart and handing it back to her.
It was clear Ivy had caught the flashback coincidence when she spoke. “Way back when, you asked me what my dream was. You asked me what was going to make me happy heading into the future, and when I said being with you, you told me it wasn’t enough. That no one person should be somebody else’s dream.”
“Good memory.”
“It’s etched into my soul,” Ivy whispered. “For a teenager, you were very smart. I needed to go away because there was no other option, but leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Walker waited.
“What’s your dream? What do you want?” Ivy asked. “You sent me off with your blessing, and it took time—a lot of time—but I accomplished what I set out to do. I’m a teacher. That’s part of me forever. Now it’s time for you to reach for your goals. So, what do you want?”
“To be there for my family. To save the ranch.”
To be with you.
He kept the last one to himself, because he didn’t see any way to make it happen.
But Ivy was shaking her head. “I’m not asking the right question. Do you want to sing? You’ve always liked music, but a music career was never something you talked about while we were growing up. I didn’t even know it was on the radar.”
“It just happened,” he admitted. “I was goofing off at a bar with a bunch of the guys after an event, and Maxwell was in the crowd. It was karaoke gone wild, but you’re right. I’ve never aspired to be a singer.”
“What about rodeo?”
He could tell where she was going. “I like the animals, and the guys, and the atmosphere. It’s exciting. But I also enjoy being with my brothers here at Silver Stone. I don’t need the adrenaline rush.”
But Silver Stone could be gone if they didn’t find the funds.
Ivy nodded thoughtfully.
“If you don’t have a preference one way or another, I’ll admit I’d prefer you have a panic attack in front of a crowd instead of while on a bull. Embarrassed is not the same as hurt or dead.”
She said it so forcefully her words snapped like a whip.
“Which is why I need to deal with the panic attacks,” he insisted. It always came back to the same thing.
But Ivy wasn’t done brainstorming. “What about songwriting instead of performing? Ryan said tonight the song was something you wrote.”
He’d never thought about that. “It’s another option, but that’s not what’s on the table right now. Right now the offer is for me to travel with the band and sing. When they head to the studio again, Maxwell said he can set it up for me to do a couple more singles like the song I wrote.”
Her cheeks were pink. “I’m sorry for lying about it in front of people. I hope that doesn’t cause trouble down the road.”
Walker thought back to figure out what she was talking about. “The fact you said I wrote it for you? Snow, I did write it for you.”
She blinked.
Hell, he’d spilled his guts about everything else, why not go for broke? “I’ve never forgotten you. You would not believe how often I wished I was with you. I don’t think a day has gone by since you left that I didn’t think about you at least once.”
Everything about her softened, and her eyes went liquid. “I missed you so much.”
They hadn’t solved anything. In fact, they’d only cracked the door on his troubles, but somehow sharing the burden with Ivy had made it seem manageable. She was such an integral part of his life he couldn’t imagine going forward without her.
He shoved that problem to the side and let his heart speak. “I don’t know if I want to be a singer, or ride, or just work with my brothers. There’s only one thing I know for sure that I want.”
Ivy gave him her full attention.
Walker pulled her against him. “I want you.”
* * *
He didn’t need to expand his comment. She already knew from the look in his eyes that they weren’t holding back anymore. It was as if the honesty between them had produced this final confession. Their bodies needed to connect like their hearts had so they could commit to the next thing.
Kisses came naturally. The faint scent of tea on the air mingled with the candle she’d left on the counter, the flickering light casting a rosy glow on the walls. A soft radiance that matched the gentleness of his touch as he caressed up her back then down again, his fingers lingering at the top of her hips.
Her pulse danced as his fingers tugged her shirt free and slid under, palms warm against her.
His touch was distracting and enticing, but for a moment her thoughts were still tangled up in what they’d been talking about. His fears—the panic attacks as he called them—weren’t something to be lightly pushed aside. She was terrified to discover he’d been missing chunks of time, especially within the arena.
She knew what it was like to feel fear. To feel her throat close up and her tongue tangle until she couldn’t speak and to want more than anything for the ground to open beneath her feet so she could vanish away from staring eyes and cruel whispers.
Only she’d never felt real fear until this moment. At the idea he was willing to risk his life. There had to be better options.
She couldn’t imagine a world without Walker in it.
He’d shared that he’d thought about her daily. It was the same for her, and though they’d been physically apart for years, it seemed everything else about them had remained interwoven, tangled like an intricate artwork where the back was a mess of knots but the front had become a beautiful tapestry. That could be their future.
But not if he was dead.
Walker’s grip tightened, and a second later she rose in the air, supported by his arms. He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “Where’s your room?”
She was so thankful she’d finished that room first. “End of the hall on the left.”
Everything was ready. And as Walker carried her down the hall, his strong arms iron bands around her, she pushed aside her plotting and plannin
g and resolved to make this a moment he would remember in explicit detail.
His feet didn’t make any noise on the solid wood floor, except as he passed sections where the boards squeaked and moaned. As if the house were preparing for a session of ecstasy as well.
Then they were through the door into her cozy room. Walker didn’t stop to admire the fresh paint or the pretty arrangements. He laid her on the bed and covered her with his body and went back to kissing.
She was trapped under him, cocooned in a protective cave formed by his thick biceps resting on the mattress on either side of her. His torso barely caressed hers, one of his thighs slipping between her legs. The heavy weight of his hips and the line of his erection pressed her to the mattress.
It was like being surrounded and entombed in pleasure. The sweet exploration of his mouth as he nibbled his way along her jaw paused as he pressed kisses to her temple then behind her ear, licking her earlobe and making her laugh.
As if the happy sound changed everything, Walker took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and murmured against her skin. “My Snow Princess.”
His hand drifted to the front of her blouse, undoing the buttons with far more skill than he’d had back when they were teenagers. Those days had involved a lot of fumbling, including panicked moments of pulling her clothes back into alignment after a session of heavy petting, trying to look as if they were innocently watching a show as her parents reentered the TV room.
No one would interrupt this time.
Still, Ivy felt a swell of jealousy at the women Walker had touched during the time they’d been apart. Oh, it was an irrational thought, but while part of her was glad he’d enjoyed pleasure over the years, she was envious.
Focus on now. Focus on the future.
Walker pushed open the sides of her blouse and pressed his lips just above where her heart was pounding at a frantic pace. “This is how I remember, but better.”
Ivy was going to tease him about his words not making any sense when he reached under her and undid her bra, sliding the shoulder strap off one side to expose her breast to his eager gaze.
He rolled slightly, body still in contact, the rock-solid length of him—all the rock-solid lengths of him--pressed against her. Walker lifted a finger and slid it down her collarbone, slowly, teasing as his gaze followed the path he was tracing. Up the slope of her breast, around her nipple, around again.
His gaze drifted higher to meet her eyes, a slow smile sliding across his expression. “So damn beautiful.”
A gasp escaped her as he laid his palm over her breast and squeezed, rubbing in a circle against the tightening tip. Squeezing again, harder this time, over and over.
Ivy squirmed, reaching for him, tugging at his shirt.
Walker sat back far enough to reach over his head and drag his T-shirt forward, stripping it over his head and throwing it to the floor. The next second he had taken off her shirt and bra completely, humming happily as he gave her other breast the same teasing treatment.
It was good, and made even better because now she could touch him as well. So many strong muscles to stroke her fingers over, sliding down his shoulders, across his back. Caressing his sides and letting herself explore for the first time in forever.
He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was lean and hard, cut beyond belief. The muscles of a man who’d laboured and sweat, one who’d put in the work that was now built into every inch of his body.
His lips were back on hers then traveled to her shoulder. He placed a brief kiss on the top of her breast before he surrounded the peak and sucked sharply, drawing her nipple into his mouth and sending a lightning strike directly between her legs.
Ivy threaded her fingers into his hair, closing her eyes and letting him touch. His lips played over her nipples as he used one hand to cup and stroke, lifting her higher.
One hand disappeared as he continued to tease with his mouth. The teeth nibbling at her skin weren’t enough to distract as his hand slid down her belly and under the waistline of her pants.
Strong fingers slipped into her panties and over her mound. Possessive, controlling, one finger pressing hard over her clit before sliding deeper.
“I need to be here. I need to push my cock into your body so we’re one.”
Honesty rang in his voice with longing and need.
Ivy reached down and undid her pants, wiggling everything off as quickly as she could. Rolling to the side, she pulled open a drawer in her side table to grab a condom, because she was an adult, and this was her house, and she was prepared.
She’d been so hopeful this was going to happen.
She rolled back to discover he’d also stripped, and when he held up a condom as well, their eyes met and they both laughed.
“Remember how hard it was to find condoms for our first time?” she asked.
Walker snickered. “Snow, this isn’t the moment to reminisce.”
Then he kissed her senseless until she wasn’t thinking about the past, no matter how sweet the memories. She was fully engaged in the moment as he went back to teasing, his hands stroking between her legs, fingers slipping into her core then delicately circling her clit.
He pushed her thighs apart, and moved away. But before she could finish protesting, he laid his mouth over her sex and the only sound she could make was an inarticulate groan.
The cowboy side of him had made him good with his hands, or maybe it was the guitar playing, but the singer—oh, what the man could do with his mouth.
Pleasure built rapidly, his teasing tongue combining with his fingertips sliding in and out of her core. Steady yet demanding, changing position slightly as she gave him feedback with a series of desperate noises.
She would’ve used words if she’d been capable of speaking.
When he pushed two fingers in deep, stroking the front of her sex, an orgasm arrived with a rush, her body squeezing tight around him. Her hips bucked upward, wanting more.
He gave into her demand instantly, replacing his fingers with the broad head of his cock, angling over her until the heat of his torso and the steamy heat of his need were her everything.
Every inch registered sharp and clear as he pressed his thick length into her slowly, joining them the way they were meant to be. The first time in forever, yet so much like coming home.
He rocked slowly, his gaze moving over her face as he held himself with ironclad control. The muscles in his shoulders bunched tightly as he moved into territory that hadn’t been explored for a long time. Not by him. Not by any man.
Ivy realized that toys, while fun, truly had nothing on the real thing.
With a final motion he closed the gap, and they were completely connected. He lowered himself the slightest bit, increasing his weight over her, and it was achingly good.
Ivy adjusted her hips, sliding her thighs farther open to give him more room. When she curled her arms around his neck and sighed happily, he chuckled.
“I don’t know what I want more. To stay like this because it feels so damn good, or to move because that’s going to feel damn good as well.”
“Move,” she said. “Definitely move.”
She tightened around him, and he swore softly before following instructions. Pulling his hips back and pressing in again, a slow, deliberate motion that made her feel every inch.
Ivy stared into the eyes that held so much of her happiness.
Walker’s face contorted as if he were in pain. He licked his lips and breathed out slowly as he fought for control.
Ivy squirmed again. “Walker?”
“Yeah?” He continued to move in smooth strokes that felt good, yet weren’t nearly enough anymore.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged hard enough to yank his head up so their eyes met. “I need you to move harder.”
Another curse escaped him.
“I mean it. I’m not a delicate snow princess—”
He needed no further encouragement. Cutting off her words with his mouth he
kissed her greedily, pinning her beneath him. The dusting of hair on his chest rubbed her nipples as his body rocked faster and faster still. Hips pressing forward again then jerking back. Thrusting now, her sex wrapped tightly around his cock as he speared into her over and over.
Walker angled his hips lower so on every thrust he rubbed their groins together, teasing her clit and making pleasure dance over her.
He growled, pausing just long enough to hook an arm under her leg, opening her wider so he could thrust deeper into her willing body.
She was helpless under him and it was perfect. It felt good—no, it felt amazing—but this was beyond the physical. He was no high school sweetheart, he was a full-grown man who knew how to take and give pleasure abundantly.
Ivy clutched his shoulders harder, closed her eyes and let the rapid pace send her spiraling back up. He broke, calling her name as he locked their hips together, grinding in a circle against her clit as he jerked inside her.
Another wave struck, her sex contracting around the thick length of his cock, dragging out his pleasure from the sounds of his continued groans. Ivy reveled in the sensation, the goodness of being connected with him.
Walker panted hard, holding himself over her for a moment before settling slowly, carefully, at her side. Still connected, tugging the leg he had control of over his hip. He nuzzled against her neck and peppered kisses over her face. Tender and delicate, and oh-so-intimate with his cock still inside her body.
She watched him, holding back the words that wanted to burst free. Not wanting to scare him, but knowing this was one step to help him see his value. Not just to her, but to himself.
Walker stroked his fingers over her cheek. “That was better than I remember.”
Ivy laughed. “We were seventeen. I don’t think it could’ve gotten any better for us back then. You’ve gained some skills that I appreciate very much.”
His expression turned serious. “Ivy? This was the first time for you since back then, right?”