Page 41 of Ring Me

I trembled as he confessed his desires. “I didn't think potato salad and hot dogs could turn you on so much.”

Snorting, he cupped my chin, lifting my lips towards his until we were kissing in the setting sun. The wind kept tugging at my hair—or maybe it was him. I was too dizzy to know.

I pulled away and gasped for air. “This way, follow me.” Holding his wrist, I ran down the hill, further away from the house. The farm was quiet—no one was working this late. There was a small structure used to store equipment and hay bales. “I used to come in here and read books when I visited as a kid,” I said, pushing Conner through the door, closing it behind us with the bolt in place.

No interruptions.

Yanking at the front of his shirt I pulled open the top buttons, gripping tight so I could bring him to my level and kiss him. Once, twice, I lost count. He swept his arms around my waist, lifting me easily onto a stack of hay. Through the gaps in the walls, the last of the vanishing sun lit up the dust motes, making them look like fireflies.

“Off,” he grunted, peeling my shirt over my head. I lifted his, tracing the muscles on his stomach, following his tattoos like they were a maze I had to solve. His skin tensed from my touch. “You drive me crazy,” he said, looking down at me in amazement. “How do you do it so easy?”

Spreading my legs, I pulled him by his belt until he stood between my knees. My lips trailed across his stomach; I kissed each rib until his fingers were wrapped up in my hair, ending my quest.

Conner didn't bother holding back after that. Pushing me backwards onto the hay, he muffled my groan with a long, tongue lashing kiss. One of his hands sandwiched between our bodies, removing my jeans, my panties, just enough to give him access. The hay was scratching my ass-cheeks but I was too turned on to care. Once I heard the notable foil-rip of the condom wrapper, I gasped, “Wait!”

He stopped moving, staring at me with uncertainty in the near blackness of the barn. We lived in a world of shadows, but we had our sense of touch... of smell... of taste. We were lacking nothing.

Gripping the condom, I took control, fisting the base of his cock so I could hold him steady. He hissed in pleasure while I slid the condom into place. “Okay,” I whispered, breathing loudly. “I just... wanted to do that.”

Conner's skin brushed over mine. Holding my hips, he lifted one of my knees, aiming the tip of his cock at my pussy. He pressed—slow, patient, unyielding. I was lubed up from excitement, he sank inside with nothing hindering him but his own deliberate control.

He wanted me. He also wanted to set the pace.

“Ah!” I crowed, back arching when he was fully inside. One stroke was better than it had any right to be. Conner ground his shaft so deep his balls brushed my sensitive skin. He withdrew—I locked my ankles around his hips, forcing him back inside. His laugh was darker than the shadows around us. It lit my core on fire. I loved when he let his inner animal out.

We fucked without being able to see anything. My eyes could have been shut, I wouldn't have know. “Conner,” I panted, “More, god, more, I'm so close!”

His response was a fierce snarl. Working his huge fingers into my skin, he held my outer thighs and slammed his shaft into me over and over, sending bits of hay into the air. I came hard, but my moans didn't slow him down, he kept pumping away, the muscles of his ass flexing under the heels of my feet.

“Mine,” he declared, his whole body flexing. “Mine, mine, mine!” With a final thrust he jutted his chin upwards. I saw the shape of his face, the outline of him losing control, with the aid of the first stars in the night sky. Their light was faint through the cracks, but it was enough.

When we were done, we rolled sideways off the hay, settling on the soft bits piled on the ground. We clung together; interlocked in every sense of the word.

“Do you remember what you said to me after we first met?” I asked.

He rolled on his elbow to look at me, his eyes warm and still fuzzy from arousal. “What?”

“You said we had chemistry. Like we were special, how we understood each other so naturally. Like we were... fated to be together. I didn't believe it at the time, but now, I think I'm starting to.” His eyebrows crunched tightly together like he was in pain. Was I imagining it because of the poor lighting? “Conner, are you alright?”

“You said you didn't believe in fate.”

“I didn't. Maybe I still don't, I'm not sure.” His reaction was making me self-conscious. “Is it dumb to think some unknown presence in our massive universe nudged us together?”

“No,” he said, looking away. He untangled from me and sat up in the hay. “It's not dumb.”

I shifted so I could hug myself. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah. I'm fine.” He flashed me a smile that seemed genuine enough. “Let's get back to your family before they come looking for us. Your granddad strikes me as the type that might shoot me if he catches us together before we're officially married.”

We walked back to the house in silence. It was dark enough that I held Conner's elbow so I didn't stumble on the rough slope. He was warm, almost as hot as the orange glow of the lamps lighting up the front porch. Moths and little beetles flew in sharp swirls, bumping into the glass bulbs with constant pings.

“There you are,” my aunt said. She was standing by the screen door with a cigarette between her fingers. She took a drag, the sharp tang of tobacco invading my nose. “Your mom is helping Pappy into bed. He was tired after all the fun.”

“I'll call him tomorrow to say I'm sorry we didn't say goodbye in person,” I said.

“That's nice of you.” She tapped ash into the wind. “Conner, I think you made a good impression on everyone, all things considered.”

“Thanks,” he said politely.

“If you want, I can put you in touch with a good printing company for your invitations.”

“Invitations?” I replied, puzzled.

My aunt cocked her head. “Of course. How else would any of us know when your wedding is?”

Her meaning was plain. And just like that, I realized the small lie I'd participated in was about to become a web. To give my mother her happy ending, I needed to keep weaving.

But one small slip... and I'd end up trapping myself.

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