by Eden Summers
When they’d been dating, his mum had adored Erin, openly stating that she wanted her as a daughter-in-law. Too bad things didn’t turn out that way. Since then he didn’t think his mother had spoken to Erin much at all. He still remembered her distraught call days after he moved to the city. His mum was upset beyond reason that her beautiful Erin now found it too hard to speak to her. “She’s hurting for you, Jesse. She won’t speak to me. She can’t even look me in the eye.” He’d wanted to come home, to change his plans for the future and let Erin know he would give up everything to be with her. In the end, his will for a better life had won.
He glanced back to the house to find Erin frowning at his mother. She shook her head, indicated all the food around her and mouthed the words “No, I can’t.” As stubborn as Jesse was, his mother was worse. She grabbed a bottle of water and a bowl of something from the fridge, handing it to Erin before she shooed her toward the porch.
The same bloody porch he sat on.
Erin’s shoulders sank in defeat and she moved around the kitchen bench to walk in his direction. The door slid open and she stepped outside, heaving a sigh as she closed the door behind her. She continued to the steps. The slight breeze swept her ponytail around her shoulders, the dark lengths appearing black in the dim light.
Pausing at the railing, she took in the view–the large gum trees lining the creek, the paddocks filled with lucerne, before descending the stairs. With the water bottle in one hand and the bowl in the other, she walked away from the house, heading down the gravel trail that led to the machinery and shearing sheds.
Jesse leaned forward and watched her slip into the darkness. He wasn’t going to follow her. He didn’t need the distraction. He didn’t want the complications that more interaction with her would bring.
Sitting back in his chair, he downed the last of his drink in two gulps and squeezed the can tight. His frustration still held when the weak metal crumpled in his grip.
“Bloody hell.”
He needed to make sure she was safe. There were hundreds of snakes in this hot weather. She could be bitten while skirting the long grass. He didn’t care if they slithered away from noise. There were foxes too, they may be scared of humans but freak attacks occurred–he’d heard about them on the news. And the machinery, she could trip over a fucking tractor or something.
He didn’t need an excuse. He took the porch steps two at a time and hit the path with a crunch. Damn it to hell. He wasn’t going to hide either.
Following down the trail he blinked to adjust to the darkness. The silhouette of her body approached the first shed. Her slim hips swayed, her hair shone in the bright moonlight and he quickened his pace to catch up. She didn’t notice him as she rounded the corner and went out of view. The back of the shearing shed only held the sheep pens. There wasn’t anywhere else for her to go unless she planned to open the gates.
When he reached the end of the shed he stopped and peered around the corner. She sat perched on the old wooden fence railing, the bowl resting in her lap and the bottle of water sitting on the post beside her.
She looked up from the bowl and stared in his direction. “Jesse?” His name was a whisper on her lips, a breathy caress he remembered from more intimate times.
He stepped out of the shadows into the bright moonlight. “Did you come out here to remind yourself of the good ol’ days?” he asked in greeting.
The bright white of her smile made his cock jerk. His blood rushed north with a furious hunger, demanding him to walk right up to her, grip her hips in his palms and take her lips with his own.
“Yeah, I came here to remind myself of the romantic way you took my virginity in a shearing shed,” she chuckled.
He winced at the memory. He’d tried to make her first time special. There just weren’t many options in a small town, unless you wanted everyone to know what you were doing. His parents had been entertaining guests in the house, oblivious to the way their son and his girlfriend snuck down the stairs with one thing on their mind.
God, he’d been horny. Erin too. He’d grabbed a blanket from the living room couch, chased her to the secluded shearing shed and made love to her on the large packs of compressed wool. It definitely wasn’t his A-game but at least he made it between her thighs before exploding. That was always a bonus for a lust-crazed teenager.
“So you do remember.” He rested against the warm metal shed and raised his eyebrows.
“Vaguely.” She wriggled on the post and averted her gaze. “So how’s life in Sydney?”
A pang of regret hit his chest. Her words were flat, yet he still heard the hurt in her question.
“Good. I’ve worked hard and been rewarded for it. I enjoy what I do and the people I work with.”
She nodded and focused on the bowl in her lap. “I don’t even know what you do.”
“I’m a chef.” Well for the most part. He owned one of the most popular restaurants on Sydney Harbour. He decided to keep his success to himself though, not wanting to rub it in her face.
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “You’re a chef?” Her voice cracked and he smiled at the way her eyes widened in horror. “Why am I doing the catering when you would’ve been better qualified?”
“Because I didn’t come home to work and you’re more than capable of providing what my mother wanted.”
She groaned and shook her head. “Yet again I feel inadequate around Jesse Hackett.” She removed the plastic wrap from the bowl, screwed it into a tight ball and placed it in her pocket. He opened his mouth to reply–to tell her she’d never been inadequate, that in his eyes she’d always be perfect, inside and out. Instead he snapped his lips shut again. He wasn’t going there.
“So why did you change your mind? You seemed pretty adamant that you wouldn’t be catering.”
She shrugged. “I thought about the offer after you left and couldn’t come up with a good enough reason not to. We’re both adults and my business could use the money.”
“Right.” That wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for.
“Hungry?” She held out the bowl in offering.
Yeah, he was hungry. Fucking starved. For her. He wanted her to jump off the railing, take a step toward him and offer herself to be eaten. He’d never tasted her there, in the intimate flesh between her thighs. They’d been too young, too inexperienced.
He pushed from the shed and closed the distance between them. With each approaching step her posture straightened until she sat at her full height with her chin high. Her raised knees grazed his stomach and he restrained himself from grabbing them, from running his hands up her legs and moving between her thighs. If he started he wouldn’t be able to stop.
Erin pulled the bowl back, one hand holding tight while the other gripped the railing for balance. She wasn’t stupid and she knew his self-control was waning. Her shoulders straightened and she sucked in a deep breath.
“What’s on offer?”
She paused, glanced down at the bowl and tilted the contents forward for him to see. “Strawberries in sugar.”
He took another step, forcing her legs to part for him.
“Jesse,” she warned in a breathless whisper.
“Mmm?” He needed her to look at him, to see how much he wanted the taste of her on his lips.
She released a pained breath. Slowly she raised her head and his stomach clenched at the glazed depths of her eyes. “I remember,” she gave a sad smile, “I remember everything.”
Her words were soft and touched him to the depths of his soul. Time may have distinguished the love she once had for him, but he still noticed the passion hiding behind her apprehension. He inched closer, yearning for the warmth of her breath. As the distance between them faded, her focus lowered to his mouth. He took his time studying the silky texture of her skin and gloried in the way her head tilted back to meet him. With a feather light touch he brushed his lips against hers.
She was so fragile, the same way she’d always been an
d still his for the taking. When he pulled back, she stared up at him, her bright eyes blinking in a daze. Without a word he grabbed the bowl, pulled out half a strawberry and placed it on her lips.
Erin paused and his heart thumped while he wondered if she would pull back. Her sweet tongue darted out to lick her lips and she took a bite. She chewed politely, taking her time, torturing him with her natural beauty. It didn’t take long for his patience to waver. He teetered on the edge, loving the way she unintentionally seduced him. He clutched the remainder of the strawberry and ran the juice down her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat.
She swallowed deep as he leaned in to lick the trail away. He tasted her, letting the rough feel of his tongue make her skin break out in goose bumps. Her hands brushed his shoulders, moved to his hair and squeezed tighter with every press of his lips. With each sharp tug, adrenaline burst through his veins, driving his hunger further.
The bowl dropped from his hands, landing on the hard ground with a clang and he took her surprised gasp in his mouth. His tongue stroked hers, coaxed a duel that had her retaliating. She tasted sweet, of fruit and wine and innocence. Pressing into her, he pushed her backward until her hands clung around his neck for balance.
He brushed her waist with his palm, felt the unfamiliar womanly curves and glided higher to the side of her breast. Oh God, she had phenomenal breasts. Her arms hooked tight behind his head, pulling him closer while her hands played in his hair. Each stroke of those talented fingers sent sensation throughout his body, down his spine, over his chest to pool in his balls. His cock throbbed, demanding to be eased, demanding only Erin. He kissed her with fury, letting her pleasured mewls sink under his skin. His fingers worked the front of her white blouse, fumbling and slipping over the buttons until each one was undone. He moved his hands over the smooth skin of her belly, up her sides and cupped her breasts.
“I’ve missed you,” the words spilled from him before he could stop them. She gripped his hair tighter in reply, moving her mouth back over his, to suck on his tongue, to bite at his lips. A growl rumbled in his chest and he inched closer, giving his cock the friction it demanded against the heat of her body.
After years of doubt, he was back where he wanted to be: with Erin in his arms, her body hot with need for him, her desire fuelling his own to the point of pain.
His fingers moved to the buckle of her belt, worked the clasp and yanked it free. While he undid the button and lowered the zipper of her black pants, her hands moved under his shirt, her sharp nails softly scraping the skin of his back. Then he was home, his fingers gliding under the band of her silk panties to swipe the entrance of her slick pussy.
“Wait,” she panted, placing a hand on his chest.
He ignored her, moving his lips to her neck, to graze the delicate skin under her ear with his teeth. His fingers brushed her clit and she jolted, gasped and tightened her thighs around his waist.
“Condom.”
The word penetrated his lust, fucking smashed it with the force of a freight train. “Shit,” he muttered and she cried out in frustration.
“It’s okay.” He rubbed his fingers over her clit and she clenched her thighs, this time with less enthusiasm. “I can still get you off.”
“No.” She shook her head and pushed at his chest until they were eye to eye. “Stop.”
He couldn’t stop, not now. He wanted her too much, needed her like a drug. “Please, Erin. I don’t care about me, just let me touch you.”
Her warm hands left the skin of his chest and he went cold in the summer night air. His fingers were still poised at her entrance, waiting for permission and they wouldn’t move without it.
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes drowning in emotion.
“Why?” he chuckled. “Because you make me burn,” he leaned in for a quick, rough kiss, “because even if my cock can’t have this–” he flicked his fingers between the lips of her pussy and she gasped, “I still want my fingers deep inside it.”
“But–”
He cut off her protest with another kiss, striking his tongue over hers with quick, teasing strokes. His hand remained in her panties, getting soaked by her juices. He wouldn’t push her and was pleased when she didn’t make him wait long. She was soon rubbing against his fingers, the heat of her core demanding friction.
“Please,” she begged.
He laughed and leaned closer, moving wisps of hair behind her ear with his free hand. “Now you’re begging?”
“Mmm,” she ground her pussy against him and gripped the back of his neck, “woman’s prerogative.”
His teeth sunk into her earlobe and he delighted in her cry as he slipped two fingers into her core. “God, I want you.”
Her hips rocked against his thrust and she pulled at his shirt. “Take it off.” She tugged the material up his chest. “I want it off.”
Removing his fingers from her pussy, he yanked the shirt over his head. As he threw it to the ground she gripped the waist of his pants and pulled him closer. She sucked on his nipple and he felt the buzz all the way to the base of his cock.
“Feisty little devil, aren’t you?” She’d always been eager and the additional confidence cranked his chain like nobody’s business.
Moving back to his position between her thighs, he dug under her waistband, sliding his fingers home in one hard plunge. He waited for her mewl of pleasure, a soft affirmation of her delight, but everything faded into the background when she rubbed his erection through the thick material of his pants.
“Holy…shit.” He was going to blow. With one quick stroke. He tilted his hips out of reach and focused on working her clit with his thumb. She was close, her head thrown back in ecstasy while one hand squeezed her breast.
He listened to her breathing and explored her heat, searching for the one sweet spot he used to know so well. Working his fingers in circles, he moved in and out, relearning every inch of her core. Her breath hitched, her once languid muscles stiffening around him and he knew he’d found what he was looking for.
“You ready, gorgeous?”
“Yes,” she panted with a nod and nuzzled into his neck. He rubbed his fingers over her G-spot in slow strokes. She whimpered and her hand stilled on her breast as her pussy sucked him deeper. His balls tightened at her pleasure, the head of his cock demanding release.
“Ride me,” he whispered into her ear, picturing her ethereal beauty in his mind. He wished he could see her face, the way her eyes squeezed shut in bliss. He scissored his fingers while she bucked, letting her muscles grip him to the point of pain. Her mewls grew louder, her pleading cries driving him crazy before she gasped and sunk her teeth into his neck. He moaned at the bite and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing his cock was feeling the tight pressure of her walls. She clenched around him in short, sharp spasms, the orgasm leaving her pliant in his arms. He worked her hard, never stopping his motions until the desire left her body and she collapsed against his chest.
Words of love were poised at the tip of his tongue and this time he held back. He wanted to tell her he loved her and that he’d never stopped. Instead he clenched his jaw and cuddled her body to his.
Her ragged breathing settled and the night came back into focus.
“I need to go.” She moved back to gain enough distance to do up the buttons of her blouse. He could feel her pulling away from him, physically and emotionally.
Stepping back, he gave her space while he hunted for his shirt.
“Damn it.”
He straightened and watched her scoot off the railing, patting her hair.
“I bet I look a treat.”
She did. The full moon left her haloed in light. Her ponytail was askew, with loose hair sticking at odd angles. He didn’t know how it got that way. Maybe he pulled it or ran his hands through the lengths without knowing. He’d always loved her hair.
“You look beautiful,” he said, picking his shirt up off the ground.
Erin diverted her gaze and bent to
pick up the bowl. “I’ll meet you back at the house,” she blurted out, reaching for the bottle of water.
Before his shirt was over his head she began to stride away, leaving him half dressed, horny as hell and unsure of where this left them.
Chapter 3
Erin kept her gaze lowered for the remainder of the night. She prepared food with hands that still felt the hardness of Jesse’s chest and her legs were numb with the after- effects of orgasm.
“I’m so stupid,” she muttered to herself, cleaning the last of the plates in the sink.
The past hours had been torture. At least at the start of the night she’d been able to concentrate because he’d been nowhere in sight. Too bad it didn’t stay that way. Once she came back inside, he followed, taking a seat at the large dining table.
He observed her every move, the caress of his gaze never leaving her skin. If only she’d pushed him away outside. If only she had the strength to resist him. Then she wouldn’t be feeling overwhelmed and her panties wouldn’t be uncomfortably soaked.
“You need a hand?”
Erin didn’t look up. She couldn’t glance at his intense brown irises or those full lips without showing her emotions. He would see her adoration, the wash of love in her eyes, the lust in the flush of her cheeks. She needed him, and the ache he left her with so long ago had settled back beneath her breastbone.
“No I’m fine, thanks.” She continued to scrub the baking trays, concentrating on the stubborn food instead of Jesse manoeuvring around the kitchen island to come toward her.
Please don’t get any closer. Don’t make me try and resist you. Not after what you’ve put me through. She wanted to say the words aloud, to make him step back and leave her alone. Only, as much as she needed him to leave, she also wanted him to stay. She yearned to have his talented hands all over her body, stroking her with feather light touches.
He nestled in behind her, settling the warmth of his chest against her back and leaned in close. “Let me help.”