Lost Together

by Cynthia Knoble

  “Rory, you served your time, legally, but you haven’t accepted that, not mentally. You continue to punish yourself for killing him. And you know what? You should feel guilty. You took a life. That’s something that will haunt you for the rest of your life, but you’re letting it rule you. Own you. That’s where you’re failing. It isn’t with disappointing others, or not measuring up to what you think people expect of you. You’re angry because you think we pity you for what happened to you. You’re wrong. We pity you for not seeing how you torture yourself.”

  When she cupped his face, her hands burned with truth. As his heart squeezed painfully, tears spilled from his guilty eyes. “You took his life. Accept it. Atone for it. But please stop doing what you’re doing. You’re taking your own life as penance. You’re punishing yourself by holding back, by not rejoining society. You’re pushing others away because you don’t think you deserve their love, their concern, how they care for you, and want the best for you. You feel unworthy of all that, and that’s why you act the way you do.”

  As she gently wiped away his tears, her eyes reflected the truth she spoke. They no longer held anger. Now they held a plea. “Allow yourself to live. Don’t atone for taking a life by denying yourself one. See what you could have.”

  Pressing up on tiptoes, she gently kissed him, her lips a fleeting feather-touch, and one that tore through him with the force of a freight train, carrying with it emotions he’d tried to bury, but that refused to be ignored any longer. Her words, her kiss, unlocked something deep within him, and he sobbed as she settled back on her feet solidly to lock her determined eyes with his.

  “Can you see what you could have? What I’m offering you? Can you see what’s right in front of you?”

  Clutching her, he pulled her into an embrace as his knees buckled under the enormity of everything that crushed down upon him. The truth, delivered by her, accompanied by her offer of herself, was too much to bear, and he fell to his knees with a jarring thump, pulling her down with him. Hugging her fiercely, tears poured from his eyes. Embarrassed to cry in front of her, he couldn’t stop any more than he could release her. The softness of her body contradicted the strength she held, a strength she tried to impart in him. He could feel it in the arms that encircled his neck, in the hands that gently, but firmly, caressed his head and back. Holding her tightly, he embraced that strength, and the bravery behind it. She had the courage to tell him what he’d needed to hear, and had helped him more in two minutes than anyone had in years.

  As his body calmed, his nihilism fled. Laid bare by her, his tears didn’t bother him any longer. She’d seen so much in him, things no one else had. He held more than her body in his arms, he held the key to shelving his fears, and becoming who he should be. Pulling back from her, he kissed her lips tenderly before pressing his forehead to hers.

  “You’re right. About everything. I’m done being a coward.”

  “You weren’t a coward,” she countered, “just lost.”

  Unwilling to argue about it, he didn’t reply, for it truly didn’t matter, as his cowardice was behind him. Seeing the promise in her eyes, he was certain his post-incarceration life had truly begun. A loud snort from Baron drew soft laughs from them both. The alpaca had had quite enough of the human emotions show. Rising to his feet, Rory gently pulled her to hers.

  “Let’s get the rest of them done, or we’ll be out here all night.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t appear insulted or hurt by him cutting short their encounter. Figuring she was as eager as he to finish the shearing job, he hoped she was as eager as he was to see what they’d do after they finished.

  Chapter 30

  That night, although exhausted, Saffron couldn’t deny the satisfaction she felt, echoed in Rory’s face as he smiled warmly at her. They’d finally finished shearing all the remaining alpacas, through a combination of Rory’s sheep-shearing experience, what they’d learned watching Kevin, and a little trial-and-error. Having accomplished it without restraining the animals, or stressing them too greatly, pleased her the most.

  Unsure how late it was, it was dark out. Too tired to even be hungry, despite having not eaten since lunch, her legs felt a little unsteady as Rory walked her to her house, but she couldn’t be sure if it was her exhaustion, or his close proximity. She’d caught how many times he’d stared at her as they worked. It equalled how many times she’d done the same with him. Apparently, since their talk after Kevin’s departure, neither could keep their eyes off the other.

  Her heart racing, she wanted Rory to kiss her again, but was unsure about initiating anything herself. She’d been brutally honest with him before, and, while certain he needed to hear it, evidenced by his acceptance of what she’d said, she figured that emotionally-charged time must have worn him down as much as the physical work he’d performed since. He probably just wanted to go to sleep, and put this long, stress-filled day to rest.

  Reaching her door, she fished her keys from her pocket. Although she felt safer with Rory around, she’d locked the door earlier, not knowing how long they’d be at their task, and still wary of the intruder. She unlocked the four deadbolts, overkill for sure, but something that had helped ease her mind somewhat. Turning to Rory, about to bid him farewell, his lips pressed to hers and, with a moan, she leaned against his body as his arms wrapped around her. He felt so damn good it was easy to ignore the stench of sweat, dirt, and alpaca that clung to him.

  After breaking their lip-lock, he touched his forehead to hers, his arms still encircling her. “I want to be with you,” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice dripping with desire. “But I don’t want to be presumptuous. If you want to wait, I under—”

  “I don’t,” she interrupted, “I don’t want to wait. I meant it when I offered myself to you. I want to be with you.”

  “Oh, Saffron. I want you so bad it hurts.” Feeling his steely erection against her, she circled her hips, and he grunted. “Damn that feels good,” he said in a low, raspy voice that spoke with the raw want she saw in his eyes. Then he sighed. “But shit, I don’t have any condoms.”

  “I do.” She laughed at his surprised look. “I always believe in being prepared for the unexpected, so I bought some when I first moved here.”

  “Then I thank you for your foresight.” He winced when she snickered. “That sounded better in my head,” he admitted.

  “I bet.”

  Smiling deeply, he lifted his chin to kiss her forehead and then resumed his previous position. “Wanna shower together? We’re both a little sweaty and dirty.” When she didn’t answer, he tilted his head questioningly at her. “I could go back to the bunkhouse and shower first, but I just thought that if we were going to—”

  “Have sex then why not shower together first,” she finished. “Yeah, of course that makes sense. We’ll see each other naked then. That’s not why I hesitated. I’d love to take a shower with you. How hot is that?” He grinned, and she returned the gesture. “I only hesitated because I want to be certain you want this. Yes, I offered myself because I want you, I really do, but today has been so hard on you, so emotional. So, if you wanted to wait, that’s fine. Really. I won’t be offended.”

  He kissed her again, slowly, deeply, drawing more than a moan from her. The kiss pulled her uncertainty away, stripped off the doubts she had. His lips assured her their discussion hadn’t emotionally battered him so much that he was acting irrationally, or doing something he wasn’t ready to do. It confirmed how at peace he’d seemed since then, and how much he truly wanted her.

  This time, she broke the kiss for, as wondrous as it was, the aching within her to have him was too much to bear. Taking his hand, she led him into the house. She waited while he closed and locked the door, and then led him upstairs, and to the bathroom. Hungrily kissing him, she grabbed at the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up. He only broke their kiss long enough to take over the removal of his shirt, pulling it from himself, and flinging it. His lips on hers again, driving h
is tongue into her mouth, his hands worked on her jeans’ fastening. As she sucked on his tongue, he tugged her jeans past her hips and took hold of her ass cheeks to pull her against him. At the feel of his hardness, she circled her hips, drawing a moan from him.

  “Start the shower.”

  The sexy gleam in his eyes had her panties feeling mighty wet. Although not wanting to abandon the feel of his body against hers, she was eager to shower with him, and so pulled away from him. As she bent to pull out the faucet and turned it to warm, he nestled behind her, rubbing his jeans-clad erection against her ass as his hands slid up her back. After checking to ensure the water temperature was optimal, she straightened up. Rory, still pressed behind her, cupped her breasts as he kissed her neck, then trailed kisses to her ear.

  “I want you so badly,” he whispered. “Let’s get clean. Then, I want you in the bedroom, where I can take my time with you.”

  She bit her lip at the determination in his voice. When his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, she slipped away from him. Quickly unbuttoning her blouse, she lifted her chin to him.

  “Get naked.”

  Smiling, he did. As he unfastened his belt, she took in his upper body in awe. Too focused on kissing before, she examined him now, the taut skin covering muscular, hairless pecs, and defined abs to die for. A light layer of hair, similar to that on his forearms, ran over his flat belly ending in a line of hair that descended past where his unbuttoned jeans began. He was breathtakingly perfect. Instantly aware of how unimpressive her body was, she turned from him as she slipped off her blouse and bra, then shed her jeans, panties, and socks. Why had she agreed to the shower? At least in the darkened bedroom he wouldn’t have seen her flabby stomach, her fat ass, how thick her thighs were. Instead, she’d agreed to a shower, in the bathroom, with glaring lighting that accentuated every flaw she had as surely as it highlighted his perfection.

  “I can’t wait to bite that ass,” Rory’s voice sounded from behind her. “God, it’s amazing.”

  She froze. Was he mocking her? His tone lacked the facetious tone her ex-boyfriend, Doug, had always employed when he said things like that. Then he’d laugh away his insult and suggest a gym membership, to ‘tighten up.’ He’d go on then, informing her she had the goods, just too much. Not that he wanted her to be too lean, either, or muscular. He wanted a ‘soft, feminine body,’ he’d say, then grab her ass, and add ‘but you’ve got excess softness.’ That was his way, not outright nasty, but insulting enough to make her feel awful every time she undressed in front of him. Rory wasn’t like that though. They’re all like that.

  Cringing slightly when she felt him behind her, almost close enough to touch her, he pulled the shower curtain back. Then, as his lips were upon her shoulder, his hands cupped her ass. Her flabby, fat ass. A low moan sounded from him as he kneaded her ass cheeks, and then his warm breath cascaded over her ear. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was soft, gentle. There was no hint of malice. “Hop in.”

  She did, and he followed, closely, and then pulled the shower curtain closed. The standard-sized tub didn’t allow for a lot of room, but she liked the close confines, even as she agonized about Rory seeing her body. Remembering she’d offered herself to him, and then agreed to the shower, she stood under the spray of water, figuring at the very least she’d be clean for him. Stepping back, pulling her head out of the streaming water, she was a little surprised when she felt his hands on her head, and smelled her shampoo. He massaged her scalp, vigorously but not roughly, as the crisp scent of green apples filled the air. She rinsed the shampoo away, and then his hands were upon her head again, now gently working conditioner through her hair. Turning to him, her heart dropped when his eyes scanned her. Here it came, the disappointed look she’d see in his eyes. When he met her eyes again, she saw nothing but the smile on his face echoed in them.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he told her again.

  She shrugged. “I’ve lost a bit of weight since being here, but I still have a ways to go.”

  “A ways to go to what?” His brow scrunched up, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Until I look, well, um, more toned.”

  Crooking his neck to press his forehead to hers, he stared into her eyes intensely, as his hands grasped her shoulders gently. “You look perfect just the way you are.”

  Don’t you dare cry, don’t ruin this moment. “You’re too good to be true.”

  “Not so, I’m true, I’m right here, and there’s no place I’d rather be. With you, just the way you are, because you’re absolutely beautiful.”

  He kissed her, tenderly, and then straightened up. She wiped conditioner off his forehead, and then motioned for them to swap positions.

  “I’ll wash your hair,” she offered. “Providing you stoop down a bit.”

  “Don’t you wanna rinse out the conditioner?”

  “Not yet. The sun’s killing my hair, it’s as dry as hay right now.”

  After washing and rinsing his hair, she shook her head as she ran her fingers through it. “Why do men always have healthier hair than women? You’re outside everyday, too, and your hair is so soft.”

  “The Bukowskis have good hair.” He grinned.

  “Well, I haven’t met Boone yet, but Zandra certainly has gorgeous hair.” Zandra was just plain gorgeous, in fact, and Rory was too. She wondered if Boone was as attractive as his siblings as she swapped places with Rory again to rinse the conditioner from her hair. How was it the three of them were all still single?

  When she moved to allow him under the spray again, he shook his head. “Nope, stay right where you are.”

  He grabbed the bottle of body wash. “Hands.” She held hers out, and he squirted a generous amount of body wash into one, and then deposited another into his free hand. After he put the bottle down, he rubbed his hands together. She did, too, smiling, certain she knew what he’d say next. “Let’s wash each other.” She was certain her eyes held the sexy glint she saw in his.

  As they kissed, they soaped one another up, awkwardly, due to their lip lock. His hands glided over her, arousing her. They were strong, yet so gentle with her, and seemed to echo his kisses. He soaped up her breasts as she worked on his chest, loving how her soapy hands slid over his muscled chest and shoulders. She moved her hands down, languidly circling them on his belly, and then glided them lower still. Taking his stiffness in both hands, she gently twisted her hands, and he groaned against her lips.

  “That feels great.”

  The huskiness to his voice sent a little shiver through her. He broke their kiss to meet her eyes and then maintained eye contact with her as he gently massaged her shoulders. She stroked one hand along his length, as she massaged his balls with the other. He bit his lip.

  “Shit, I’m not going to last if you keep that up.” Gently pulling her hands from him, he kissed her again. “Turn around.”

  She did, gasping lightly when his hands ran down her back, and then firmly massaged her ass. His hands moved in slow circles, then squeezed her cheeks, before returning to languid movements. Slowly, his hands slid up her back and then around her sides to cup her breasts. He pressed against her back, and she could feel his erection against her ass. As he moved against her, he pinched her nipples, drawing a contented moan from her.

  His breath puffed against her ear before he kissed her just under it, and then rained kisses down the side of her neck. With his slippery dick rubbing against her, his teasing of her nipples, and his soft lips on her skin, she was breathing hard. Everything he did felt so sensational. Gently, he turned her around to deliver a fierce kiss, his lips and tongue pulling a moan from her. One hand held the back of her neck, as the other reached between her legs.

  The second his fingers connected with her aching sex, she cried out. The feel of him was so amazing, and each small movement he made set her wantonness afire. His answering moan, reverberating against her lips, heightened her arousal, and she bucked against hi
s hand. Stroking her faster, his grip on her neck intensified, as did his kiss. Gripping his head tightly, she shook as her climax approached, moaning loudly into his mouth. White hot pleasure shot through her, blinding her as she writhed, crying out with the forceful orgasm that hit. He held her against his chest as he kept fingering her. When she could take no more, she jerked her hips away from him. Trembling, she kissed his chest as she encircled his waist with her arms. As he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head, and then held her until the water started to cool.

  He shut the shower off, and then helped her out of the tub. Then he insisted on drying her, gently running the towel over her, pausing to kiss her tenderly, on her arms, legs, breasts, and landing a few pecks on her butt cheeks. He wrapped a towel around her head, twisted it and propped the ends atop her head. It fell down as soon as he let it go, and he frowned.

  “How on earth do women make hats outta towels?”

  “Hats?” She laughed as she picked up the towel, expertly twisted it around her head, and tucked the ends in. “Turbans, maybe, not hats.”

  “Whatever,” he grinned as he dried himself off. He was still hard and she licked her lips as she stared at his dick, long and straight, recalling the velvety feel of his skin in her hands. He snickered, and she knew he’d caught her staring. She met his eyes, and he cocked his head to the door.

  “C’mon, let’s go to the bedroom.”

  Taking his hand in hers, she led him to her bedroom. She was exhausted from the long day, and the orgasm she’d had made it worse. Sleepy, she laid on the bed, on her back, knowing her stomach would look minimized in that position. On his side beside her, his fingers gently stroked down her chest, over her belly, and then up again.

  “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

  “It’s okay if you’re too tired to do anything,” he told her. “We can always continue tomorrow.” His tone was so gentle, and he didn’t sound the least bit upset with her. Overwhelmed with a desire to please him, she shook her head.