Page 91 of Touch the Sky
I slump with relief but keep pressing her to the wall, just in case she can’t hold herself up yet.
It was a pretty damn powerful orgasm, if I do say so myself.
“It’s my knees,” I say, wriggling between her thighs. “I have the sexiest knees in Québec. No woman can resist them.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she tells me.
That doesn’t stop her from sighing as she grinds down on my leg one last time.
We both freeze at the sound of a car out on the highway. We whip our heads around like we’ve been caught in a searchlight, watching as the car keeps moving instead of turning into the driveway.
“Merde,” I say. “I thought it was my mom or something.”
Tess’s mouth presses into a thin line. “Right. Yeah. We’re kind of, uh, exposed, aren’t we?”
We break apart so Tess can pull her clothes back into place.
“So, uh, what do we do now?” she asks.
For a second, all I can think about is pushing her back up against the barn and showing her exactly what we can do now. I’m still aching for her, even more now that I know what she sounds like when she lets go. My whole body is burning with the need to make her do it again.
“Mamanprobably will be home any minute,” I admit, “so maybe we should, ah, be not outside?”
Tess’s grim expression cracks into a slight smile.
“Not outside. Got it.”
She leads the way inside the barn, and we end up in the tack room, leaning up against some saddle racks while we stare at one another.
Tess’s face is still flushed, and her shirt is a little crooked under her jacket. I can’t tell if I want to lean over and straighten it out for her or just rip the whole damn thing off and see if she’d let me bend her over the saddle and slip my hand between her legs.
I clear my throat.
“Was that, uh, okay with you?”
“I think you saw just howokayit was,” she answers. “I’m only slightly mortified that I got off like that. As you know, it’s been…a while…since I’ve been with anyone. I forgot…”
She trails off, her eyes taking on a hazy sheen. She runs one of her hands along the edge of the saddle, tracing the lines of the stitching.
“I forgot how good it feels to just let go like that,” she says. “I forgot what it’s like to stop worrying about everything for five damn minutes and just be…me.”
My chest tightens like her words are wrapping around my ribs.
“That’s how it felt for me too,” I admit.
I hear her breath catch. “It did?”
“Yeah. I don’t get to just…be me very often.”
We stare each other down, and it feels like something silent passes between us, like we’re an open telephone line even when we aren’t speaking into the receiver.
“Maybe this could be good for us,” Tess says slowly, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as me. “Maybe we justneed to blow off some steam. I mean, it makes sense, right? We understand each other’s situations, and we’re attracted to each other, so maybe we could just…hook up?”
She grimaces and shakes her head before I get a chance to answer.
“It sounds naïve, doesn’t it?” she asks. “You’re still my landlord, and?—”
“I am not your landlord,” I cut in. My stomach drops at the thought of her believing I might play that card. “It’s not my name on the lease, and I can’t make you?—”
