by J. M. Adele
That was where he was at now. Empty.
In some ironic twist, he felt free. This thing he’d carried around for his entire life—he’d finally unstrapped it. His heart hurt like hell. But he could stretch.
Despite the risk of oncoming pain, if someone sets your soul on fire, they should know.
No matter the outcome.
His mother had told him that when he was a little boy. He hadn’t understood it at the time. She’d seemed adamant that he receive the information.
Had she known how he felt about Lory, like his father had?
People were all so fucking afraid that their affection wouldn’t be returned, and their hearts would be crushed. Fear was the crippling disease, not love. Doubt and anxiety were an obstruction trapping so many in unfulfilling relationships that were safe. Because if they chose someone who didn’t push them to the greatest heights, they wouldn’t have that far to fall if they were rejected or abandoned.
Real love was intimidating as fuck to a fragile ego.
And that was why people clipped their own wings but still got shitty when they couldn’t touch the heavens.
He’d reached for bliss but ruined his chance by pushing too soon.
If he’d had a shot at all.
It was time to let it go now.
Anton pulled into his spot outside the farmhouse. Thankfully, the others hadn’t made it back yet. After putting the cattle out to pasture for the night, he headed inside to check on Nonna. Her door was open a crack, and he could see that she was tucked in already. The house was eerily quiet without the usual ruckus from his sisters. Why wouldn’t his grandmother use the opportunity to get some rest?
He showered before he found some leftover food in the fridge, scarfing it down in record time. After cleaning his mess, he checked the time; it was eight. Everyone would be home soon. Did he really want to be here when that happened?
Nope.
He sent a text to his mama’s phone letting her know he’d be gone for the night, grabbed his keys, then left.
_____
Lorelei
Why was it so hard to be honest? To take off her mask and expose her true self to the one person who needed to see her the most—the woman in the mirror. How was it so easy to get caught up in playing the role of good daughter, loyal friend, faithful fiancée, and deny the side of herself that wanted to say, ‘Fuck it. I’m gonna do what I want to do, ’cause playing this character is making me miserable?’
She’d been so convincing; she hadn’t even known her happiness had all been a lie.
Until now.
Lory ran towards the point of light on the horizon she’d seen from her bedroom window. Flames licked the glittering black ink sky. It was him. It had to be. How could he be home sleeping after what had happened? She couldn’t fathom going another moment without exposing her heart.
He was so much braver than her. She’d been so caught in grief for her quashed dreams, and guilt and confusion about her growing feelings for Toni, that she’d not been able to see. Love had been there the whole time. He’d helped her uncover the truth in the most abrupt awakening possible.
She’d loved Greyson. She didn’t want to discount that. But it had been about playing a role to fulfill expectations—not the least, her own. She’d wanted so much for him to be the one. And all the while Toni had suffered in silence.
That was the killer. The final twist of the blade. The agony of what she’d done to him was as good as turning the knife on herself.
Maybe she was completely insane, running through the fields in the dead of night. Using her phone to illuminate her way, she forced thoughts of coyotes and mountain cats out of her mind and focused solely on getting to him.
At last, she saw his truck. The backdrop of land and trees behind him was a barely discernible silhouette. Antonio sat with his legs hanging over the tray, staring into the campfire. With a blanket over his shoulders, he was as still as the air. His eyes were glazed like he was in a trance. Under a spell. She knew the feeling. For the first time, she understood, and it invigorated her. This was love. She didn’t have to chase it or play out some script written by someone else. She could just be.
Dodger came to greet her, escorting her the last few yards to his owner. He sniffed her jeans before curling up beside the truck.
She slowed her steps and came to stand in front of Toni, the fire warming her back. The heat in his eyes scorched her everywhere despite the mixture of sorrow evident in their depths.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” She panted on shortened breath. “I’ve been so confused. And you”—her throat clamped shut and she had to swallow—“you went from zero to a hundred, and I couldn’t sort out the guilt from the love. This is . . .” She huffed. “It’s surreal, to be honest.”
“What are you saying?” he croaked.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
His mouth parted as his chest rose. He threw off the rug and gripped her waist. A second later, she was straddling him, and his mouth was on hers. When Antonio decided to move, he moved, that was for damn sure. The chill of the air bit into her skin as he lifted her shirt to dive his hands underneath. His tongue searched hers, a taste denied for too long. Her arms clamped around his back, holding on. The fire crackled, offering glowing embers to the sky. Her nerve endings lit up, begging for more of his rough touch. He seemed hungry. Like a man who’d starved for too long.
She was the same. She didn’t want to think about how fast this was all happening. She just wanted whatever he offered.
His hands palmed her butt and pulled her snug against his erection. He broke the kiss, his breath sawing in and out as he watched her through hooded eyes. It was a question. A request for permission to take this further. She grabbed his face and locked her lips onto his as she ground onto his lap.
Yes. Yes. And yes!
She found herself on her back with Toni’s face buried in her cleavage. When had he even unbuttoned her shirt? His hands left her for a second before a blanket descended over them, cocooning them in. Tugging her bra down, he latched onto her nipple, a groan rumbling in his throat. Oh. She stretched her neck at the sensation incited by his lapping and sucking. Her hands wandered over the contours of his back. She yanked at his shirt, impatient to get it gone. Rearing up, he ripped it off before lifting her up and undoing her bra strap. Her shirt disappeared next, and he was back on her. Skin on skin. Mouth on mouth. His hips settled between her legs. She lifted the blanket with her feet, pulling it the rest of the way into position before hooking her knees around his waist.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I want you naked in the firelight.”
“You’re halfway there. Don’t stop now,” she panted.
He paused for a second, blinking at her. “Fuck.” Again, he sat up. Cool air rushed over her skin before he covered her with the rug. “Don’t move.”
He disappeared over the edge. She heard the truck door open and close before he returned. Lifting the cover at her feet, he dove in from the bottom this time. She waited for him to surface. He didn’t. His fingers undid her jeans, dragging them down her legs as he planted kisses on her belly. Wide-eyed, all Lory could do was take in the million stars above, and the flying embers as he bombarded her with a new awareness of her body’s capabilities.
His mouth trailed lower. His hands crept higher, covering her breasts. Squeezing. Molding. Making her his. She jerked as he gently bit her sensitive inner thigh. His stubble scratched before his tongue soothed the sting. She cried out as he pinched both nipples and suckled her through the silk of her panties. The sharp edge of teeth on her clit had her clawing at his hair. He dragged in an audible breath as his nose pressed to her mound before placing another kiss there.
She wanted the barrier gone. Just as she was about to beg, he slid them down. She lifted her hips to help. He didn’t waste the opportunity to scoop his hands under her butt, parting her with his tongue. Lory gasped.
God. He. Was. Good.
Shit.
Starting with long, slow licks, he got into a rhythm. Her hips rocked of their own accord. She tossed the blanket away, welcoming the cool air, and the sight of his head between her legs with the fire blazing behind him. Her ankles were bound by the bunched jeans and panties, his torso holding them down. Her knees spread wide to accommodate him. She still had her boots on, like a naughty girl with her pants down. The best kind of mischief.
He slid a finger into her core, scraping his teeth against her bud.
She cried out, trying to keep up with the barrage of sensations. “Antonio.”
Two fingers and hard sucking had her spine curling. He spread her open with his thumb and forefinger, his elbow pressing into her thigh. Inside, his fingers stroked while his tongue swirled and sucked. Stubble scratched in a delicious added bonus.
She came like a freight train. And yes, she was a screamer.
He growled, the vibrations from his mouth adding to the onslaught. He stayed with her as she rode the wave, somehow knowing when to ease off, but not abandoning her in mid climax. She swore it went on for minutes.
Her breathing slowed. She heard the hiss of a zip and the rip of a packet. He tugged off her boots and clothes before grasping her feet in each hand. Folding her legs back, he surged forward, positioning himself at her entrance. She curled her palms around the backs of her thighs, straining to see the features of his silhouetted face.
“Are you okay?” His question probed her mind, the forerunner for what was to come.
She nodded, not trusting her voice to work.
He rubbed the underside of his cock along her folds, massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves at the crest. They both exhaled in sync. Thrusting, he entered to the hilt.
For a long moment neither of them moved. A riot of emotions she hadn’t been prepared for pummeled her heart, brain, and body.
An overture to belonging and destiny.
An undeniable promise of the fulfilment of dreams.
A homecoming.
He placed her feet on his shoulders before dragging his palms along the backs of her thighs to rest on top of her hands. Her legs went to jelly as he stroked deeply. Sweat-slicked skin slapped against each other as they gasped for oxygen. She shifted her legs to circle his hips, hooking her ankles behind him. His hands wedged under her back to lift her into his lap. He guided her arms around his neck before sliding his grip to her ass. Kisses feathered over her face. His hips pumped into hers. “Even better”—he gasped—“than I imagined.”
Electricity coursed along her nerves, setting off detonations wherever it went. She quaked as pleasure again seized her body. His hands bit into her skin as he ground their centers together. He locked his silver stare onto hers, a world of emotion caught in one look before finally grunting his release.
Lory rested her head on his shoulder, trying to calm her system. Her body went lax. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He held her against him while he switched positions so she lay on top. The blanket made a reappearance as their temperatures returned to equilibrium.
She nodded into his neck, kissing the spot where she nuzzled. Better than okay. Teetering on the edge of bliss and exhaustion, it was impossible to voice her answer. She hoped he understood that he’d set something free in her. A part of herself she hadn’t realized had been imprisoned. His fingers drew patterns on her back. Love notes written in calligraphy. An exposition she’d cherish for eternity. Their heart beats drummed against each other, finally finding the perfect rhythm. They stayed there until the fire died and the sun’s rays bled into morning.
Magnolia Tree
Antonio
He took her home, leaving the truck in the south paddock and walking her the rest of the way. She snuck in the house before texting him a minute later.
Got to my room just before Daddy went downstairs. Great timing.
He scrubbed a hand over his face as he returned to his truck. Jesus. That had been close. He’d have to be more careful in future. But it had been too damn hard to let her go.
When can I see you again? He typed the words and then hit the delete button, erasing his eagerness.
Be cool.
Glad you’re safe.
He’d scared her away once. He didn’t want to do it again. They needed to slow down. Yeah, he’d been in love with her for more than twenty years. But this was new for her. He wanted to give her all the time she needed to see him as hers.
He pulled the truck in front of the farmhouse before making his way straight to the shower.
“Where have you been?” Papà’s voice pulled him up short just shy of his destination.
Shit. Anton didn’t turn around, reaching for the door handle. The only face he wanted in his mind right now was Lory’s. Especially her firelit expression when she’d watched him go down on her. Parted lips, hooded eyes, pupils that almost engulfed the blue of her irises. Damn, he was getting hard again.
“I camped out in the field.” He cracked open the bathroom door, smelling his mother’s herbal shampoo.
“Did you put out the fire properly?”
“Sì, Papà.” Ducking into the room, he kicked the door closed behind him.
He turned on the shower a bit colder than usual and ran through a list of all the jobs he had to do.
Get the hay feeders ready.
Do a lice check and treatment.
Check the rye grass for blast…
Lory.
Lory.
Lory.
Water cascaded over his head as he stared at the drain. He’d managed to distract himself from thoughts of her for years by keeping busy. That trick wasn’t working now.
And his cock was still hard.
Wrapping a palm around his length, he squeezed the head gently before sliding up and down. Remembering the feel of her pressed against him, his cock buried deep inside her, it took less than a minute for him to come.
He soaped up, rinsed off and towel-dried before hearing a knock at the door. Covering up, he opened it a crack.
Sophia and Marianne.
He groaned. Jesus, not now. “What?”
Marianne, being taller, stood behind Sophia. Both of their faces lined up within the narrow gap he’d allowed for the exchange.
“We’re just checking to see if you’re okay?” Sophia assumed the position of spokesperson, as per usual.
“I’m fine.”
“You didn’t seem fine when you left.” Marianne mumbled.
“And neither did Lory,” Sophia added with more volume.
He sighed, knowing from experience that they wouldn’t back off. It was better not to be cornered in a room with only one exit, which they had blocked. Making sure the towel was secure, he yanked the door open and charged past his sisters.
“You need to make things right.” Sophia was like Dodger gnawing at a bone.
Oh, I did. “What makes you think things are wrong?” he threw over his shoulder as he headed for his room.
“I was the one you called to come and clean up your mess after you ditched her, remember?”
“I didn’t ditch her.” Annoyance sharpened his voice. He and Lory were so far past the hurt and misunderstanding of that night. Not that Sophia had any clue. And it was none of his sisters’ goddamn business, as far as he was concerned.
He spun around, slapping his palms on the doorframe to bar their entry. Sophia pulled up short, Marianne, bumping into her back.
“Sure looked like ya did.” Sophia raised one dark brow.
“I know you mean well, but I’ve got it covered. Okay?”
Marianne grasped her sister by the shoulders, tugging her back. Sophia folded her arms and stood her ground.
He narrowed his eyes. “Time for you to leave. Unless you want to see me in my birthday suit?”
Marianne lifted her hands and backed away, disgust screwing her nose up. Sophia huffed and met his stare.
He loosened the towel but didn’t let it fall.
She squeaked, turning to march awa
y.
Laughing, he closed the door and got dressed.
Maybe Sophia had a point. Maybe he did need to make sure she was okay. He and Lory hadn’t exactly done much talking after she’d confessed her feelings. He’d basically pounced on her. Shit. He should check on her tonight.
Any excuse to see her again.
_____
Anton parked in the paddock bordering on the Carters’ land and jumped the fence. Their house sat in the next field to the south. The full moon lit the way as he walked across the pasture. A group of cows huddled together under a tree. A series of moos let him know they were watching.
He reached the house to find that her light was already out. Shit. It was late. But he didn’t want to chicken out now. Thanking whoever had decided to plant a Southern Magnolia near the house, Anton climbed its branches. He hopped on the roof of the veranda before creeping over to Lory’s room. Straightening his shirt, he gave himself a mental pat on the back. All without disturbing the peace.
He pulled out his phone and typed a message. Hey. Are you awake?
A dim light broached the edge of the curtains.
Yeah. Can’t sleep.
He frowned. Why not?
I can’t stop thinking about last night.
His face split into a grin. Need me to help you get some shut-eye?
I wish.
His chest expanded as love rampaged inside. God, he needed to hold her. Open your window.
Why???
Because I don’t want to break it to get to you.
The curtain was shoved to the side and Lory’s silhouette appeared. She opened the glass. “How did you get up here?”
“I climbed the tree. Let me in,” he whispered.
“You’re crazy.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never made use of that tree before.”
“When I was young and dumb, maybe.”
Lory winked, a wicked glint in her make-up free baby blues, hair wild around her face. How could one simple twitch of an eyelid mock such innocence? She was wearing pink pajamas covered in cartoon cherries, for Christ’s sake. She was fucking adorable.
And completely edible.
Whoa, back up.
Anton clambered into the room, crossing to sit on the edge of her bed. “Come here.” Holding his arms wide, he beckoned her over.