by Monica Owens
Life was happening out here. A life I couldn’t relate to. I almost turned around right then, walked my ass back to Chicago. Luckily, I was stone cold drunk, so I just sat there brooding.
Also, because I was drunk, I thought about Charlotte again. Her body and her beauty. Her giving heart and her love. She was everything I wanted and I didn’t want to give up before I started. I’d be on this earth until the Rapture came; didn’t I deserve a little bit of heaven before I was turned to dust?
I passed out behind the barn, nothing decided.
I woke up with a pisser of a headache and a new resolve. Somewhere along the way, I’d given my heart to Charlotte. More than anything, I wanted to see her again and give us a chance. Hadn’t I walked all this way just for that chance? I could walk a little farther.
So I packed up my shit, cleaned up as best I could, and headed in the direction of Charlotte’s family farm. The day was hot, and halfway down the dirt road, I was sweating like I’d run a mile and I probably stunk like it too. Definitely not how I wanted to present myself to her.
My legs were hurting and I was starting to think the aches were never going to go away. I’d always bounced back from injuries, but this one I couldn’t shake. Of course, I had been thrown out of a pretty high window.
At the bottom of the dirt drive, I stopped. The man from the store had said the house was yellow, a cheery color that most of the townspeople teased Charlotte’s father over. But his wife had wanted yellow, her favorite color, and he loved her too much to say no.
The yellow had seen better days. I could see a car parked out to the side of the house and it looked a lot like Mick’s car, even from this distance. A few kids ran around and I could hear their laughter when the breeze blew the right way. There were some outbuildings in disrepair and some hedges around the house. All along the drive was waving Nebraska grass, almost as tall as me.
I took a deep breath and started the last of my journey.
No one noticed me as I walked closer. Probably because of that grass. But I saw Mick on the side of the house. I saw the kids playing. I thought I even saw Fern. But there were two people that I kept my eyes on almost the whole way.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw her. Beautiful as ever, wearing a pink homespun dress, the sleeves rolled up. Her hair was nearly white it was so blonde. I couldn’t see her face, but I could imagine it. Heart shaped and perfect. I stumbled the first time I saw her, that’s what she did to me. Made me forget how to walk when that’s all I’d been doing to get to her side.
And then there was the man. Taller, hair ruffled by the wind. He had a hold of her arm and I almost broke out into a run when I saw it. I wanted to snap his fingers and get him off her. But she broke his hold and started to give him lip, which left him gnashing his teeth and smashing his hat in his hands. Who the fuck was this?
Before I could stop myself, let myself catch a breath, the dirt drive ended in a large front yard. I stepped out from the high Nebraska grass, a little dust cloud kicked up by my shoes. I heard Charlotte say, “No, Jon,” before she pushed him away and turned her head.
That’s when she saw me.
Chapter Seventeen
I caught her as she launched herself at me. What a sight for sore eyes. She smelled like a dream, that lemon scent I’d almost forgotten. I notched my chin between her neck and shoulder and held on. Finally. I’d made it.
Fucking Ringo, Nebraska had created a woman like this. A woman almost too perfect for words. I’d come back from the dead for her.
Shit. Al Capone can’t kill me.
All thoughts of what I’d vanquished disappeared. The miles I’d walked, the aches I’d endured, the uncertainty of my reception when I made it to her family’s farm.
Now she was in my arms. Holding me, crying on my shoulder. God, she felt good. I wanted to throw up her skirt and bury myself in her softness right the fuck now. Vaguely I realized other people were around, so I contented myself with feeling the sides of her tits and skimming a hand over her ass. Shit, I wanted her.
“Want to tell me who this is?” I heard from behind her.
Charlotte stiffened. I let her slide down so her feet touched the ground. She gripped my arm and held tight, then turned.
Farmboy. That tow-headed farmboy. He stood there, looking stupid in his overalls, hands on his hips. He sure wasn’t happy to see me that was for certain. But his anger was directed at Charlotte.
I glanced behind them and saw Mick by the old farmhouse. One and Two were behind him and a young girl holding a baby stood on the porch. No one said anything and the air remained still.
“Jon,” Baby said. “This is Angelo.”
I was taller than the farmboy but he wasn’t intimidated. He folded his arms over his chest. “Name doesn’t mean anything to me, Charlotte.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, not bothering to correct my name.
He bristled. “I’m her fucking husband, that’s who!” he shot back.
Charlotte gasped. “Jon!”
Her husband. I felt Charlotte’s hand tighten on my arm. She leaned closer into me. This lug was her husband, huh? Baby had moved on. Here I’d fucking walked all the way from fucking Chicago and she’d married some hick from her hometown?
“That baby up there?” he said with a hook of his thumb. “Ours. So if you ain’t got anything else to do here besides feel up my wife, you can leave.”
I looked past him again and saw the baby in the young woman’s arms. Even from here I saw the strawberry blonde hair sticking up in every direction. As much as it killed me, I extracted my arm from Baby’s grip.
“Angelo, no, don’t listen to him. Don’t listen—”
“You got a kid?” The married part I wasn’t worried about. I could get rid of him in a heartbeat. But her having his kid? Shit. She was supposed to get big with my kid, my seed. I was nearly insane with the thought of this fucker getting her pregnant.
“Yes, but Angelo—”
“Baby,” I interrupted her. “You moved on.”
“Angelo!” Her tone sounded distressed as she grappled to hang onto me. “You don’t understand. Angelo, please, you don’t understand.”
“I ain’t breaking up a marriage, Baby.”
“No,” she nearly wailed. “No, Angelo, listen—”
I cupped her cheek and put a finger to her lips. Shit, walking all this way had been a mistake. But really, I should’ve known it would be a gamble. She fucking had over a year without me and she was only human. I should’ve realized she’d get married and have kids.
The thought still drove me insane.
“Glad you’re all right,” I told her.
“Angelo, no….”
Fuck the husband. I leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. Then she was torn from me. I looked at her, weeping in her husband’s arms as he held her upright. When I began to turn away, he shoved her to the side and lurched forward. A solid haymaker landed in my face and pain exploded up my skull. Oh, he wanted to do this? Well, fuck him.
I swung with everything I had. All the anger and pain, all the fucking lust I had for her. Her life was a drop in the bucket of time for me. How fucking hard was it for me to spend that life with her? And this asshole got to do it? No way. No fucking way.
He was flat on the ground by the time One, Two, and Mick pulled me off. Charlotte was being held back by Fern. Kids that I could only assume were Charlotte’s brothers all hung around, their mouths open in awe.
I shoved away from the arms that held me. The farmboy had gotten hits in early and my mouth was bleeding. I slung the blood off onto the dirt at my feet. What the fuck was I doing? Charlotte thought I was dead. She got married. Had a kid. Moved on. It wasn’t this fuck’s fault.
“Angelo…,” she whispered.
I held up my hands showing I wasn’t a threat anymore. And I didn’t meet anyone’s eye as I grabbed my pack off the ground. Fuck. I was a Hunter. I didn’t stay in one place anyway.
Baby sobbed
as I walked away down her long driveway. It took everything in me not to look back.
Chapter Eighteen
Places to stay in Ringo were few and far between. I wasn’t fucking sleeping on the ground again. I pulled out my money and got to figuring. There was a boarding house that an old widow ran, and she let me crash there for mere pennies. She was more than happy to make me whatever I wanted to eat, but I broke her heart when I just asked for hot water to clean up.
I needed to send a telegram to Jupiter. Tell him where I was. Surely Mars had told him that he’d left me, but I needed a new assignment and some money. I could find a bank and have him wire me some funds. It was time to head out. But not tonight. Tonight I didn’t think I could stand on my own two feet.
The man at the store never mentioned that Charlotte was married. Why should he? He said he didn’t really know her. Life was hard out here, so while I understood her marriage, it still cut me deep that she could just turn off what we had. To her, I’d been dead, but I would have hoped I meant more to her than what I obviously had.
I watched the sunset begin, the colors spreading along the sky. I didn’t have a lot of time to myself to just think, but now I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t stay here like I’d planned. Chicago was still a dangerous place for me. Maybe more so now that Mars and I had run riot that last night there. Whoever took over the big gangs would get their backs up if Arcangelo de Bacchio showed up again.
I sat there deep into the night. My plans had been derailed, in my mind, by now Charlotte and I would have been naked and worshipping each other. God, I still couldn’t believe she was married. But why wouldn’t she be? She was beautiful and she was mortal. She belonged with a man who could take care of her until they were old and gray. I’d never be old and gray.
Around midnight I heard footsteps on the stairs. The widow I was staying with told me she had insomnia so I could expect to hear her wandering around. I didn’t get up, but I did turn when I heard the squeak of my door.
Silhouetted in the doorway was Charlotte. My heart stuttered and I couldn’t move. What the fuck was she doing here? That husband of hers would surely be angry at her if he found out.
“Baby…,” I tried to say.
“No, listen,” she said quietly, entering my room and shutting the door. “You didn’t let me say a word back at the house. Fern finally convinced me that I needed to come to you and talk.”
“Is your husband hurt?” I asked.
Her face was beautiful in the moonlight. She wore a long coat buttoned all the way to her throat. As she stood before me, she slowly undid each button and my mouth went dry as she did so. When she was done, she shrugged out of the coat and it pooled on the floor around her.
A lacy camisole, a garter belt, and stockings. That was it. Fuck me.
I felt like I should look away, but damn, I couldn’t. “Charlotte.”
She moved toward me.
“No,” I held up a hand. “I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but I haven’t fucked another man’s wife in a long-ass time. I’m not starting now.”
She ignored my upheld hand. “Shut up, Angelo.”
I glared at her. “Damn it, Baby. I’m trying to stay out of your life—”
“Yes, I know,” she interrupted. “And there’s no reason to.”
I frowned. “What?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you all day,” she responded. “He isn’t my husband. He wanted to be, but he’s not.”
She leaned into me, her soft body melding into mine. Her lips reached up to brush against mine and her breath mingled with mine. I wanted to crush her to me. But if I did that, I’d get no answers. Neither would she.
“He said—”
“I know.” She ran her hands up my arms and onto the back of my head. “He’s asked me over and over. But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. Mick told me I was crazy. He said I shouldn’t pine after you, that you were dead. But I-I—”
She stopped, her lips still so close to me. Her breath was choppy and I barely restrained myself.
“Baby, why did he say—”
“Because he’s an idiot,” she interrupted. “He’s an idiot, Angelo. And I’m a fool. I can’t get over you and I never wanted to. I dreamed about you at night and daydreamed about you all day.” Her hands coasted over my back, my shoulders. “Angelo, I’ve only ever wanted to be with you.”
I was insane. Because I wasn’t grabbing her to me, ripping off that camisole and burying my throbbing body into hers. There was more here, more that I didn’t understand. Sure, this was perfect, but so very seldom in my life ever was.
“The baby….”
She sucked a deep breath in through her nose. Then she nuzzled against my chin. “I named her Dolly. Since you called me Baby-doll. Well, her full name is Dolores, but we call her Dolly. I wanted her to have something of her daddy.”
I froze. Charlotte nipped along my jaw. “What?” I whispered.
“I was pregnant when I left,” Baby said softly, her hands coming up to cup my face. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. If I couldn’t have you, I at least had her.”
I studied her, this wonderful, beautiful woman in front of me. Now I touched her. Gently. This beauty gave birth to my child. Something I never thought I’d have. I pushed her hair back and cupped the back of her skull in my hand.
“You had my baby.”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
I pulled her between my spread legs, letting her softness rub against me. I lifted her face until it was illuminated by moonlight. “You had my baby,” I said again.
Now she smiled, her even white teeth peeking out. “You said that already.”
I kissed her. Devoured her. Tried to show her all the love I had inside of me. I couldn’t breathe and she probably couldn’t either, but I didn’t care. I stood and she clung to me, her hands gripping my biceps. I leaned down and lifted her, her legs wrapping around me unerringly.
“I walked to you,” I told her between kisses. “I needed you.”
“I needed you, too,” she whispered.
The camisole got ripped down the middle. Her breasts were fuller, the nipples darker. I dropped her back to the mattress behind her but kept her legs around me and I latched onto a hard nipple. She moaned and gripped the back of my head. There was a taste I couldn’t identify and I lifted my head to look at her.
“Still breastfeeding,” she whispered.
“Fuck me,” I answered immediately. I looked down at her breast, a trail of liquid skimming down the side.
“It’s all right,” she crooned, pulling my head back down.
I lapped it up and sucked her harder. Shit, this woman was incredible. The taste of her was fantastic. I sucked all I could from each tit and reared back. Now I was kneeling on the bed between her legs and I pulled the rest of her torn camisole off. Her belly was just a little more round and I could see silvery lines criss-crossing it. I followed them with my fingers and she shivered.
“She give you a hard time?” I asked.
“No, she’s perfect.”
“Yeah? Just like me?”
She grinned. “Almost.”
I swooped down and kissed her again, darting my tongue in and out of her mouth and she was unable to keep up. She moaned and tugged me tighter but I sat back up.
That garter belt. Framing the pussy I remembered even in my dreams. I ran my fingers through the thatch of curls she had and Charlotte shivered again, her breasts jiggling.
“You taste different here, too?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Mmm. I’ll find out.”
I dropped my knees to the floor and didn’t hesitate. Her musky scent lured me in and I burrowed deep, my tongue stretching to lap up every drop of her I could. Charlotte shuddered almost immediately, but she tried to hold on.
“No, Baby,” I whispered against her pussy. “Let it go. You’re going to come a lot tonight.”
Her
hands pulled me closer and my teeth scraped against her clit. Charlotte jumped and came instantly. She covered her mouth with her hand so the old widow wouldn’t hear, but believe me, that old widow knew what we were doing.
When Baby’s shivers subsided, I licked her clean and stood up. My belt buckle was loud in the room, but Baby just held her arms up to me. I kicked away my trousers and stood in front of her, stroking my erection in my hand. She hissed in and shut her eyes briefly before she began watching me.
“I did this for a year,” I said quietly.
“Angelo—”
“Time to tell you, Baby,” I crowded her on the bed, kneeling between her legs and letting my cock bump against her belly. “My name isn’t really Angelo. It’s Bacchus.” I rubbed the head of my cock through her wet curls and she groaned. “That all right with you?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“So this time when I make you come, you yell out Bacchus, okay?”
“Yes,” she said again, this time a little strained.
“Want me to fuck you?” I asked her.
Her big blue eyes met mine. “Fuck me, Bacchus.”
I drove in, deep and hard. Her mouth fell open and no sound came out. I buried myself as deep as I could and held there. Felt her heartbeat around me, felt her muscles adjust to my size, felt her pussy begin to tremble. Her breasts jiggled as she tried to move, but I impaled her and all she managed to do was make them leak. I squeezed her nipples and licked my fingers and I thought she was going to light on fire. I hadn’t even pulled out once and she was already coming, her pussy trying to drain me dry.
“Bacchus,” she panted. “Bacchus, yes….”
I held still, which was a pretty fucking hard thing to do, but seeing Charlotte go off beneath me was worth it. When her pussy settled and her breath was nearly normal, I dragged my cock out, then slammed back home.
Because that’s where I was.
Home.