by Tessa Bailey
Kyler sighed hard, pressing kisses into her hair. “He gave you this. Being a vet. As much as I’ll bust my ass to make you happy, this will always be something that’s yours. And his. You’ll never stop sharing it with him, no matter where you are. Los Angeles or Bloomfield.”
“It won’t be the same.” She looked around the barn and thought of her clients. The animals. Familiar faces. Her routine. And the ground shook beneath her at the thought of leaving it all behind. But the idea of Kyler going to Los Angeles without her? It wasn’t just tremors beneath her feet. It was a ten on the seismograph. “I can’t—”
From the stall came a long, guttural sound, following by the rustling of the ground, the pallet stuffing. Bree and Kyler moved to the opening of the stall, peeking around the edge to find a newborn foal being licked by his mother, tail to head. No matter how many times she witnessed the miracles of her profession, these moments never failed to amaze her. She cupped a hand around her mouth, laughing into it with pure joy.
But when she turned to Kyler to capture his reaction, to store it away in her heart, he was watching her instead. And for once, she couldn’t read his expression.
Chapter Fourteen
What if the best way to make Bree happy…was to leave her?
Walk away from her, remembering this moment of total rapture on her face? And just admitting that he’d failed, so that she could succeed.
There were so many snapshots in his memory of Bree as a girl, smiling up at him, just like this, usually when they were alone and he did something goofy. Or when they’d reached the very top of that Ferris wheel, that misty fall morning a million years ago, sunlight breaking through the clouds to kiss her face.
“Ky?”
This wasn’t Bree the girl, though. Now she was a woman and she’d found a way to make herself happy, all by herself. She was the same Bree, with new, amazing differences. Changes she’d carved into her heart, without him there to witness it.
When she said his name again, it was a short punctuation, her mouth snapping shut afterward. “Ky.”
She reached up with both hands, smoothing fingers over his eyebrows, looking almost frustrated as she searched his face. That was a first. He’d never been capable of mystifying her, nor had he ever tried. He cleared his throat, determined to reassure her, but he stopped himself. What would he say? His world seemed determined to break apart and the only thing keeping it together was Bree’s touch exploring his features, tracing down the grooves of his cheeks, sliding up into his hair.
More. Whatever would happen tomorrow, he needed more of Bree now. Needed to hold on tight while time seemed to rush around them, unable to be controlled.
“Say something,” she whispered. And it was the fear in her eyes that compelled him forward. The need to rid her of it.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he murmured, grasping her wrists, holding her warm palms against his face. “I understand now, Bree.”
“Y-you understand—”
His mouth stopped Bree’s question, his tongue savoring her jagged gasp. Color exploded in his mind, splattering on the backs of his eyelids in patterns. God, the taste of her was a fucking work of art. Her gasp, the way she tilted her tits up. None of it could be helped. Just the music they made together.
There was some reservation in her kiss, the stroke of her tongue hesitant against the insistence of his. So Kyler used his grip on her curls to tilt her head, branding her mouth with hot slants of lips and hunger, reminding her nothing took precedence over the need they shared. It was alive, sliding warm and liquid down from their belly buttons. Preparing them. His head might be on fire with regret and worry, but nothing burned hotter than they did. It was the definite he needed right now.
Bree caved to his urgency, tension leaving her neck, making it fall to one side. Kyler took advantage of the opening, racing his open lips up the smooth column, clamping the lobe of her ear between his teeth. At the very same time, he fit his erection into the notch of her thighs, ramming her lower body against the partition. “Where?”
“Where?” Bree gasped. “Where what?”
“Focus.” Those legs snapped around his hips like they’d been painted on, tearing a groan from his throat. “Where in this barn can I fill up the pussy I was born to satisfy? Give me an answer, supergirl. Going to take off my jeans and wear you instead.”
Rain pounded on the barn’s roof. Thunder rolled. Lightning struck and lit up the space with white light. Or maybe it was all taking place in her eyes. Kyler couldn’t tell. Only knew if he didn’t bury himself inside his woman, if he didn’t plead for pleasure from her body with his own, he might not survive to the next minute. “H’um…there?” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at nowhere in particular, never taking her gaze off his mouth. “Thereabouts.”
Kyler’s laugh was rife with pain and starvation, but he marched in the direction she’d indicated, entering the first empty stall and pinning her sexy, giving body up against the far wall. They were covered by darkness, except for the occasional burst of lightning, making Kyler’s groping hands seem like an act of nature. Hell, they were. His God-given humanity was in total control now, feeding on his woman. As though her kisses, the welcome of her body, could sustain him until the world ceased.
“Need to get your shorts and panties off,” he muttered huskily, cupping his hands beneath her knees. Raising them and grinding down against her center until she cried out. “Can’t let you unwrap these sick legs just yet, though. Ride my dick, Bree. Break me. Tease me. Give me an excuse to be rough.”
Her position didn’t give her much room to move, but Christ almighty, she worked with what she had. Reaching between their heaving bodies, she lifted the hem of her T-shirt, displaying her silk-cupped tits. Then her hips started circling in a rhythm designed to kill a man. Her fingernails sunk into his shoulders through the material of his shirt, her pussy dragging over his pulsing inches in a torturous dance that left Kyler sucking in deep gulps of breath. Running the tip of his tongue over the hills of her cleavage, leaving a trail in his wake, Kyler took her ass in both hands, moving her in the pattern she’d started, shattering his control one grind at a time.
But when she blinked those bedroom eyes up at him and flexed her thighs, whispering, “There’s your excuse,” Kyler lost his grip on reality.
Growling low in his throat, he shoved her legs down, tearing aside the cups of her bra with bared teeth. With one of her nipples sucked into his mouth, he unzipped her shorts and wrenched them down, along with her panties, grunting an unspoken command to kick them off. As soon as she was bare from the waist down, Bree dropped her right hand from his shoulder and freed his cock in a few frantic movements.
“Now, now, now, Ky. Please.”
His middle finger slipped through her folds, finding her dripping wet, and his dick jerked up against his abdomen, making his teeth clench on a moan. Insistent hunger clawed at the walls of his stomach, weighing down his balls like hot, liquid metal. Taking his hurting inches in one hand, he positioned himself against Bree’s tight entrance and filled her in one bone-rattling thrust. His mouth clamped over hers just in time to catch her scream of his name, and he swallowed it, savoring the way it vibrated on the way down.
“Just once I’d love to be between these thighs in a fucking bed, Bree. You have any idea what I would give for that?” He pulled out and drove deep, consuming another one of her screams, reveling in the pain of her nails breaking skin through his T-shirt. “My fucking soul. I would hand it right over.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes were blind, words pushed out from between her teeth, her thighs tight and trembling around his waist. “Doesn’t matter where. Feels so good. Kyler, don’t stop.”
“It matters.” He ground their foreheads together, beginning to pump in earnest, one forceful drive after the other. “Where I fuck the love of my life matters. I want to buy sheets together, bring them home, and lick you until they’re drenched. I don’t want time limits or worrying if we�
�ll get caught. I’m a goddamn man and I want my woman beside me when I sleep, Bree.”
“I picture you beside me sometimes.” The treasure blew out of her in a rush and unglued him, deconstructed him into tiny pieces. He could only absorb the impact as she planted kisses on his face, rubbing circles onto his chest with the heels of her hands, down his back. “When I’m nervous or I have a big surgery the next day, I think of you lying beside me, telling me it’ll be all right. That afterward, it’ll just be you and me.”
“Bree,” he croaked, pressure pushing inward on his skull. “Fuck, Bree. I almost died from missing you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
There it was. Those two words were the answer he’d come to Bloomfield afraid to hear, weren’t they? She couldn’t come with him. Taking her to Los Angeles would dim the beautiful glow inside her, and he wouldn’t be responsible for that. No way in hell. Kyler wouldn’t fault her for it, though. Being angry at Bree never lasted because the love smashed it. Always would.
The call of his body to give her satisfaction rose to a fever pitch, moving his hips in greedy drives. Jesus, he’d always been twice Bree’s size, but he’d grown broader, more solid, and she bounced off the hard surface of his body now with loud, moist slaps, her legs spread for his cock. She tossed her head back and gave hot, little whimpers every time her tits jiggled with the force of his thrusts. And Lord help him, he adored every gorgeous inch of her. Knowing her glow came from the inside made her twice as beautiful. His open mouth planted itself over hers, stealing her exhales and filling his lungs with them. “You’ll always be mine, won’t you?”
“Same as you’ll always be mine.”
Tongue twining with hers, he used his grip on her ass to hold her steady for a final series of drives, committing the increased shaking of her thighs to memory. The way she sucked in a gasp and held it, her brown eyes darkening, chin dropping. His cock throbbed, on the verge of release, but he held fast and waited, waited, for her to go hurtling past the finish line, her head falling back and slamming against the wall, muscles tensing and shuddering. “Oh…my God. Kyler.”
“Bree. I love you. My girl. Always mine.”
He kissed her though the end of her storm and the beginning of his.
And when it was over, everything in his world had been rearranged.
Chapter Fifteen
“You can’t be here. How did you get this address?” Raised male voices cut through the lethargic haze of Bree’s mind. She sat up and looked around at the darkened interior of the truck, moonlight spilling across the dashboard. Eleven-thirty said the clock. No wonder she was exhausted. After two restless nights, the foal’s birth, and Kyler taking her in the barn, fatigue had hit her like a two-by-four. The last thing she remembered was Kyler snagging the keys and telling her to catch some z’s. “This is my girlfriend’s house. She—you need to leave. Now, please.”
Bree forced her heavy eyelids to widen and found Kyler outside the truck. He continued to shift left and right, blocking her view of the man he argued with. Argued with…in her driveway?
Her fingers went to the door handle, curling around it, but she recoiled when a bright light cut through the night and blinded her. The man held a camera.
“Training camp starts next week and the Rage has been chosen for a documentary. This is just preliminary stuff,” said the stranger. “Couldn’t hunt you down at your parents’ house and someone in town was kind enough to direct me here. Your girlfriend, you say?”
Again, the light crept over Kyler’s shoulder, so intrusive and stark. Bree covered her face and scooted toward the driver’s side, climbing out, but remaining hidden behind the truck. “Ky?”
“Bree, go on inside. It’s going to be all right.” Kyler spoke without turning to look at her. His back and shoulder muscles strained beneath his white T-shirt, hands balled in fists, his posture daring the man to raise his camera one more time. Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later when he gritted out, “Lift that camera and you’ll never find all the pieces.”
A low whistle came from the stranger. “I get it, man. You’re protective. Must be serious, then. How long have you been dating? How do you think she’ll manage while you’re on the road? Any plans for a family?”
“Bree.”
Surprisingly, her instinct wasn’t to run. The spotlight usually sent her tearing off to the closest parking lot. But fleeing didn’t even occur to her in that moment. No, leaving Kyler to handle the situation alone felt wrong. Her instinct demanded she go to him, pull him inside. Let the jerk cameraman take whatever pictures he wanted. They weren’t doing anything wrong. They were two people who loved one another. Why should they hide themselves away?
How would she handle Kyler going on the road? They’d survived four years. Mere days would be child’s play. She almost had the urge to laugh.
There was nothing funny about Kyler’s demeanor, though. And she was far too fatigued to fight this battle tonight. They didn’t need to fight any battle but their own, and tomorrow would be soon enough. Los Angeles was light years away and she still needed to examine the move from every angle. Kyler would understand. He would be patient, as always. They would figure out what came next in their life together when she could keep her eyes open.
“Come inside,” she called. “Come with me.”
Finally he turned, a wealth of turbulence in his eyes. So much undisguised emotion, her stomach began to churn. “I’ll handle this. You go in.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Please, Bree. This is your home.” Then quieter, “I did this.”
“If you’re not gone in thirty seconds, I’m calling the police.” Bree lifted her chin and made a little shooing motion toward the cameraman. “I’m counting.”
Kyler stood there with his back turned to her long after the red sedan disappeared down the driveway. With exhaustion weighing heavy on her shoulders, both of them locked inside the darkness, she felt as if she were in a dream. Nothing seemed real. Not the cameraman, not the new, shimmering image in her mind of a home on the beach, a floppy dog on the bed. Definitely not the new confidence and strength in her bones, possibly ready to embrace change. None of it.
“Kyler,” she whispered, going up behind him, laying kisses along the breadth of his shoulders. “Tuck me in?”
Turning, he made a gruff noise and led her inside by the hand. Her father had left the front door unlocked, but after what happened, she reasoned they should be cautious. Kyler watched as she turned the bolt with a pained expression, obviously still upset over the scene in the driveway. “Hey, I don’t think he’ll be back.” She tugged him down the hallway toward her bedroom, keeping her voice to a whisper. “Once he discovers the cast of characters in Bloomfield, he won’t need a sound bite from me. They’ll keep him entertained.”
Bree didn’t bother turning on the light in her bedroom. She simply kicked off her shoes, dropped her jean shorts, and curled into a fetal position on the bed. It wasn’t until sleep started to descend like a heavy metal curtain did she realize Kyler still stood just inside the door, silent and still as a statue.
“Where’s my kiss?” Bree murmured, turning onto her back.
He moved so fast, she’d barely managed to suck in a breath before Kyler planted his hands on the mattress, caging her in…and delivered a knock-out blow courtesy of his mouth. There was something about the kiss that snagged her memory, but she was too consumed to place it. Her limbs turned to jelly, her fingers grappling with the bedspread. The insides of her thighs began to itch, greedy for his hips to settle between them, but he broke contact before it could happen.
“Sleep, supergirl,” he said huskily, planting his lips on her forehead. “Everything will look better in the morning.”
A tingle on the back of Bree’s neck commanded her to go after him, but it took too long for her legs to move. His tall, reliable form disappeared through the doorway, the outline of him lingering and renewing the notion she was dreaming. A
nd then there was nothing.
* * * *
Bree woke up smiling. She’d had the best dream. One she’d had many times in the past, but not recently. Not since Kyler left. And now she knew why.
She was supposed to be with him. Wherever he went.
Sitting up in bed, her heart was bursting with certainty from the remnants of her dream. Kyler standing on a green lawn, sunlight catching on the stubble adorning his chin and cheeks. Behind him, a house, modest and loved. A flannel shirt was tucked crookedly into the waistband of Kyler’s jeans because he’d been wrestling with their two boys and a big, clumsy dog. Footballs, dog toys, and bikes laying haphazardly every few feet on the grass.
This image, one she’d had a thousand times, had never been more vivid. Never more real. She could smell the chimney smoke in the air, feel the love in Kyler’s eyes as they reached her across the yard.
Bree gasped out loud at the impact of it. She needed to go see him now. Spending even one night apart seemed ridiculous all of a sudden. Or maybe it always had. She didn’t know. Didn’t know, but they would sort through everything together as soon as they were in the same room. Being away from him was causing this horrible ache. One that made her hands flutter over the spot, a lump sticking in her throat.
When her gaze landed on the bedside clock, Bree knew why. It was past one o’clock in the afternoon. Kyler’s flight left for Los Angeles today.
Bree’s blood chilled as memories from last night began to trickle in. The cameraman in the driveway. I did this, Kyler had said. Then…then that kiss. The familiarity of it.
Because he’d only ever given her a kiss like that once before. To say good-bye when she ended things on prom night.
“No. No. He wouldn’t leave yet.” Bree’s feet twisted in the sheet on the way out of bed, almost knocking her to the floor. In a daze, she went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, not seeing herself in the mirror. Seeing nothing except Kyler’s unreadable expression last night in the barn.