The Milkman

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The Milkman Page 11

by Tabatha Kiss


  “Well, my mother will be proud.”

  She chuckles, her warm breath touching my cheek.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask.

  “I suggested it, didn’t I?”

  I press my lips together. “You did, yes.”

  “Nate, I could sit around all day explaining myself or justifying it in some way,” she says. “But I don’t want to. I’m tired of living a life full of things I don’t want. When I’m with you, I feel… wanted. And beautiful. Safe. I like who I am when I’m with you and that’s more than enough justification for me.”

  I nod. “Me, too.”

  “Then, it’s settled.” She smiles. “I feel like this goes without saying but we really shouldn’t tell anybody else about this.”

  “Oh. Agreed.”

  “Like anybody.”

  I curl my arms around her, pulling her close. “Agreed,” I say again. “It’s just a temporary thing, anyway. Right?”

  She nods. “Exactly.”

  I kiss the edge of her mouth and she leans into it to kiss me back.

  I am the happiest man alive.

  I slept with Kimber Kyle. And she wants to do it again.

  If I could rip open the space-time continuum and reach back in time to accept the high-five my fourteen-year-old self is dying to give me, I would.

  I ride through Clover on my carrier tricycle, grinning like a fucking idiot. Bluebirds fly in circles around my head, chirping catchy pop songs. Cars pass by and I’m suddenly the Oprah of giving waves. You get a wave. You get a wave. Hell, you get a cheesy snap and a finger gun. I don’t care.

  Cloud nine, here I am.

  Kimber Kyle, I’m yours.

  Temporarily. But still.

  I hit the highway, rolling down the shoulder at top speed all the way home to the farm.

  I’m caked in a thick layer of sweat by the time I pass by the Scott’s Dairy sign but I can still smell a little of Kimber’s pleasant perfume in the air around me. I almost don’t even want to wash this day off just yet.

  I look forward up the driveway and my silly grin plummets to my knees.

  A white truck is parked in front of the house. I hold my breath as I pedal just a little faster, hoping I don’t see that familiar logo printed on the side.

  No such luck.

  VanHouten Farms.

  I look to the porch to see a man sitting in the chair by the door.

  Curtis VanHouten.

  Oh, shit.

  I slow down as I near the porch, willing myself to stay calm.

  What is he doing here?

  What does he want?

  Does he know?

  No, there’s no way. Right?

  He stands up and slides his sunglasses off as I stop the bike near the porch stairs.

  “Hey, Nate,” he greets me.

  I nod. “Mr. VanHouten.”

  “Curtis. Please.”

  “Curtis,” I repeat, hating the taste. “What brings you out here?”

  “I came here to talk to you, actually. Your mother said you’d be back soon, so I figured I’d wait.”

  I smile. “And she made you wait outside?”

  He chuckles. “She did.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right.” I bite my cheek with hesitation. “Sorry if you were waiting long. The truck is in the shop, so all I’ve got is the bike. It takes... a while to get around.”

  “No, I haven’t been here long at all.”

  I gesture to the door. “Well, come on in. I’m dying for some water. You want anything?”

  “Oh, no. Thank you,” he says. “This will only take a minute.”

  I swallow hard. Second time I’ve heard that today. “All right...”

  I hold the door for him, forcing a welcoming smile as he walks inside.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...

  I walk in behind him and he follows me down the hall to the kitchen. I listen for my mother, hearing her voice somewhere on the wind outside. Must be out in the barn with the ranchers.

  I grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, feeling the man’s eyes on my back the entire time. Maybe if I linger too long here, he’ll stab me in the back. Wouldn’t blame him, I suppose.

  “So, how can I help you, Mr. Van... Curtis?” I ask.

  “Heh, well...” He shifts nervously and taps his thumb on the table. “I wanted to stop by and thank you in person.”

  I raise the glass to take a sip. “For what?”

  “For whatever it is you did to my wife.”

  I choke on a mouthful of water. “Agh—” I cough. “And what... what might that be?”

  “You tell me,” he says.

  I search his face for clues. “I...”

  “All I know is that ever since the two of you hung out, she’s...” He shrugs. “She’s chatting with the neighbors. She’s going to book clubs. She’s actually leaving the house. It’s like...” He smiles. “It’s like I’m seeing pieces of the woman I married again.”

  I set the glass on the counter behind me. “Is that right?”

  “I just know that you had something to do with that,” he says. “You and Will and Josie.”

  “Jovie,” I correct him.

  “Right. Jovie.” He looks me in the eye. “Thank you for getting through to her in ways I obviously couldn’t.”

  I chuckle, trying to break the tension in my gut. “Hey, man, it was my...”

  Don’t say pleasure. Don’t say pleasure. Don’t say—

  “Cheat. Treat. It was my treat. Kimber’s a... good girl. Good friend. Good...”

  I shut my fucking mouth.

  “Thank you,” he says again. “Well, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you still have work to get done today. I certainly do.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  He turns back. “Unless I can persuade you to take another look at my offer on your farm again before I go.”

  I shake my head, grinning like a moron. “Nope.”

  He shrugs with amusement. “Had to try.”

  I laugh as my guts twist.

  Curtis bows his head and pulls his sunglasses from his pocket. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, man. Drive safe.”

  He walks away and I stand still until the front door opens and closes. I listen for his truck. Spinning wheels on gravel road fade off into the distance as blood pounds in my ears.

  Fuck.

  The back door swings open. I yelp in surprise, hopping backward as my mother stomps inside.

  She frowns across the kitchen with her hands on her hips. “The fuck did he want?” she asks.

  I exhale hard and reach for my water again. “Nothing. We have a... mutual friend.”

  She squints as I take a drink. “Well, hurry up. We need your help in the barn. You can load the empties in the wash afterward.”

  I swallow. “Be right out.”

  Her inquisitive gaze lingers on me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she answers. “You look weird.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You’re glowing.”

  “No, I’m... glistening,” I say. “I’ve been on a bike all day.”

  Her brow rises with interest but she says nothing else. She goes back outside and I hang back to finish my water… and possibly die from the heart attack I just experienced.

  Pieces of the woman he married?

  Kimber VanHouten.

  Fuck.

  Twenty

  Kimber

  I run the paintbrush beneath the tap of hot water and rub the bristles between my thumb and index finger. The deep blue paint washes off and rushes down the kitchen drain, leaving a few stains on the metal basin but it’s easy enough to wipe off.

  There’s a knock on the door behind me. My lips instantly curl upward on their own.

  “It’s unlocked!” I shout.

  The door opens and Jovie stands there with a baby monitor clipped to her hip.

  �
�Howdy, neighbor,” she says.

  I set the brush to the side and grab a towel off the counter, quickly wrapping it around my right hand.

  “Hey, Jovie,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “The kid’s napping and I desperately needed to speak to an adult human, so I thought, ‘let’s go see what Kimber’s up to…’”

  I smile. “Well, come on in. I’m just washing brushes.”

  She steps inside and closes the door behind her. I turn my back to her, instinctively searching for my glove but it’s not here. I must have forgotten to slip it on this morning.

  I drop my hand to my side, still wrapped in the dish towel. “So, where’s Will today?” I ask.

  She sits down at the kitchen table. “He’s picking up an extra shift at the auto shop,” she answers. “Mo’ money, mo’... well, money.”

  I chuckle.

  “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you about the other day,” she says. “If you don’t mind...”

  I sit down across the table from her. “About what?”

  “Well, I couldn’t help but notice your complete and total silence when Sara asked if we knew anyone who painted.”

  “Right. That...” I scratch behind my ear. “I actually wanted to thank you for not volunteering me. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t at all.”

  Jovie pauses. “But why?”

  My eyes fall to the table. “I don’t paint for others, Jovie. I paint for rehab and physical therapy.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much, but...” She glances at the canvas in the corner. “You’re really good at it.”

  “Thank you, but...” I hesitate. “I’d rather not be involved with anything having to do with the hoedown. That night is still pretty raw for me.”

  She waves a hand. “Completely understand,” she says. “I won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thank you—”

  There’s another knock at the door and I tense up.

  Jovie raises her brow and her eyes shift back and forth. “Expecting company?” she asks.

  I shrug, actually natural. “Nope.”

  She hops up out of her seat and walks over to answer the door. She yanks it open and Nate stands there.

  His expression shifts from casual coolness to stiff surprise.

  “Jovie!” he says, his eyes flicking at me over her petite shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” she asks. “You don’t deliver on weekends.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.”

  Jovie waits for more. “So, what are you doing here?”

  His mouth opens and closes and opens again. “Kimber asked me to stop by.”

  She twists around to look at me. “You did?”

  “Uh…” I stand up. “Yeah.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “I... asked him to...” I look into his wincing face. “Mow the lawn,” I spit out.

  Jovie smirks. “He’s gonna mow your lawn?”

  “That’s right,” Nate says, nodding. “Yeah, I mentioned that it was looking pretty overgrown and so I volunteered to... mow it.”

  “Hmm,” she hums.

  A cry rings out from the baby monitor on her hip. She grunts and reaches for it, unclipping it and holding it up.

  “Well, that’s my cue,” she says. “Duty cries.”

  Nate steps back and out of the way. “See you, Jove.”

  “Bye, Jovie!” I say.

  “Bye, guys.”

  She leaves, cutting across the backyard and squeezing between the bushes into her own yard.

  Nate exhales and steps inside, quickly closing the door behind him. “Mow the lawn?” he asks.

  I cringe. “It was the first thing I could think of...”

  “Unclog a sink. Move a bookshelf. Something I don’t have to actually do to prove I did it.”

  I laugh. “Sorry.”

  “Eh, it’s all right.”

  “So, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, I got a call from Mr. Jovie Ross this morning,” he says. “The truck is fixed. Came into town to pick it up.”

  “Aww,” I whine, “I liked the bike.”

  He takes a step closer. “And I thought I’d stop by, see how you were.”

  I shrug. “I’m good.”

  “Just good?”

  “Could be better, I guess.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

  I smirk. “Well, my lawn really does need to be mowed, now that I think about it.”

  His eyes drop to my lips. “Is that all?”

  “You gonna make me say it or you just gonna do it?” I ask.

  He blinks. “Actually...” He leans forward, placing his hands on the table behind me on both sides of me. “Yes. I am gonna make you say it.”

  I bite my cheek as he drifts a little closer. He bows his head and I close my eyes as his nose gently slides along my neck. Warm shivers crawl down my back as he inhales my scent and hums with delight.

  “I...” I say, licking my lips. “I need...”

  “What?” he whispers in my ear before kissing my neck. “What can I do... to turn that frown upside down?”

  I smile. “The bulb burst in the bathroom this morning.” I point upward. “If you ran up there and changed it for me, that’d be super great.”

  Nate pauses and pulls back to face me. “Oh, I see how it is,” he quips.

  I pat his shoulder. “Such a handy man.”

  “Oh, I’m handy.” He bends over and cups my rear, swiftly lifting me up and plopping me onto the kitchen table. “But I don’t work for free.”

  He kisses me and I melt against him, wrapping my arms and legs around him to try and fuse us together. His hands constantly move, touching my thighs and hips, my back and sides. I part my lips and he pushes his tongue into my mouth, humming softly as he tastes me.

  “I need you, Kimber,” he says, his hands moving to his belt. “I haven’t been able to think of anything but you since yesterday.”

  I run my hands down his back, pushing into the lip of his jeans as he unzips and they loosen around his waist. “I had to touch myself last night,” I say. “I couldn’t sleep. Thinking about you...” I squeeze his toned ass. “I could smell you on my pillow. I couldn’t stop myself.”

  He nips at my neck. “Was he there?” he asks.

  Guilt twists in my gut, mixing with the pleasure in me, but it makes me throb harder. “Yes,” I answer. “He was sleeping...”

  Nate kisses me, firm and greedy, as his fingers hook my pants. “I need you...” he says again, his voice begging as much as his body.

  I unwrap the dish towel from my right hand and lay it on his eyes, quickly knotting it off behind his head to keep it there but he doesn’t complain. I rise off the table an inch and he pulls my jeans down to my ankles. As soon as I kick them off, he positions himself between my thighs, using his hands to perfectly align himself with me. I lock my feet around him, pulling him closer, and I gasp as his hardness teases my entrance.

  I reach between us, taking hold of his cock and pressing the head of it against my clit. I rub it back and forth, using him for my own gratification.

  Nate kisses my neck, helping me along as sharp bursts of pleasure push me closer to the edge.

  “Right there,” I say, gasping. “Kiss me again.”

  He obeys and I tremble at the feel of his wet tongue tasting my skin. “Keep going,” he says. “I want to feel your body as you come...”

  I whimper with his words. “Nate,” I moan.

  His teeth nibble at my flesh. Little groans fall from his lips, enjoying the quick jerks I give his cock each time I rub myself. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Don’t stop.”

  I crush my mouth on his, biting his lip as climax takes hold of me. I moan into him, trying to smother the sound as my body jerks in his arms.

  “That’s it...” he says. His strong hands hold me steady and I fall against him. He leaves soft kisses on my lips. “Fuck, you feel so good�
��”

  I kiss him back, feeling tears spring to my eyes but I don’t care if they fall. I lock my ankles behind him and watch the change in his expression as I ease his cock downward.

  I slide him inside of me, easily pushing him into my wet slit, and he flexes his jaw as passion takes him.

  Nate thrusts himself as deep as he can and my jaw drops. My entire body explodes with delight as he tightens his grip on my body and starts fucking me.

  I rest my hands behind me and he guides me farther, making me lie down on the table. It shifts along the floor, tapping hard against the wall behind me but I can’t focus on anything but the heat building in my core again.

  “Nate,” I moan his name as his hands slide up my body to squeeze my breasts. “I...”

  My words fail me. I try to speak but my voice comes out pitched with broken syllables. He says nothing. He just smiles, using all of his other senses to alter his speed and firmness to suit my needs.

  “I want to feel it again,” he says, his hands softly clawing down my chest. “Then, I’m going to take you upstairs...” he leans forward, his hips grinding me to the edge of orgasm again, “and I’ll give you something to touch yourself to tonight.”

  My inner muscles spasm around his thrusting cock. I come hard, my entire body breaking the tension. I arch my back and curl my toes. Everything twists and turns as I mewl on the table like a willing slave to his every whim.

  I look up into his handsome face. I miss his eyes. Those playful, green eyes. My fingers twitch, urging me to pull that blindfold off, but I keep my hands at my sides.

  Nate takes hold of my arms and he pulls me up. His lips instantly lock with mine, taking my breath away.

  He doesn’t even need his eyes to make me feel beautiful.

  “Upstairs,” he growls, just as breathless as I am.

  “Yes,” I sigh, falling into his arms all over again.

  Twenty-One

  Nate

  I can’t see a thing. But I can feel everything.

  Her body, her pleasure. Every sudden intake of her breath and little twitch of her muscles.

  It’s just like how I imagined fucking Kimber would be like, right down to the pinch of her nails digging into my chest and the feel of her tight body writhing on me. I don’t even give a shit that I can’t see it. I wouldn’t change a thing about this, no matter how much she may doubt that.

 

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