Page 42 of Wild Heart
As I’m gawking at the scenery, I’m aware that he’s staring at me for a long pause. I think he’s about to say something, but then he just leans down and kisses my forehead.
“Everything okay?” I swallow hard because his dreamy eyes seem sad and reflective.
With a tight smile, he nods. “Would you like a boat ride? I’ll row.”
“Hayden.”
“You’ll not have to move a muscle.” There’s a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips.
“I… really like you.” I stammer it out. He should know how I feel by now, it’s not like we haven’t been in each other’s company every day.
“I more than really like you.”
“I leave Heartville in just over a week.” The bomb drops, and I feel the quake ripple over the calmness of his exterior. “The flights have been confirmed.”
His eyes darken to an inhabitable shade of green. “Right.”
“What are we going to do?”
He shrugs, and I feel a slow pain build in my chest. “I can’t answer that. Your family is in Belfast.” I want to scream and yell at him to ask me to stay, but I don’t. I won’t.
I can tell he’s forcing a smile because his voice is uncertain. “Come on. You pick the boat.” He grabs my hand, lifts it high and kisses my knuckles.
“Would you mind if we just sat here for a bit?” My brain feels shaky and my heart is torn. “Maybe put the radio on?” I’ve become used to the sound of country music and will forever associate it with him.
Hayden reaches inside the truck and music drifts out into the peacefulness. When he stands tall, fingers stroke from my shoulders to my wrists. Then he grabs my hand, raises it high and prompts me to twirl beneath. He has this confident quietness about him, that steals my breath away. Rolling under his arm, I crash into his chest and lower my face. I hide in his strength, slow dancing to the rhythm of our hearts.
He must sense my indecision and nudges my chin up, so his green eyes pin me with a worried gaze. “Summer, everything happens for a reason. You have to be the one who decides what your future holds. No one can make that decision for you.”
“I know that.” Just ask me to stay, please ask me to stay. “I just…” Before I finish, Hayden slides his palms through my hair, close to my scalp. He slants my head, so my lips are there for the taking. “I’m not sure that…” His lips swoop down and cover my mouth with a tenderness that only he knows how to give.
With this kiss, he’s breaking my heart. I’m crazy for every touch. Melting into him when he hitches up my top and strokes the skin beneath. I love the sensation of him on the tip of my tongue, right there with all his husky growls and strength.
My buttons pop open. Denim and lace are dragged to my ankles. When he rises, I’m plastered to his shirt like a Band-Aid, wrapping him with arms and legs. Shifting me up, he carries me to the hood and sets my ass down on cool paint. Our movements are rushed, quick and hungry. I unfasten his belt buckle and hear it clank against the grill as it falls wide.
I think about leaving, but his hot lips trail a blaze to my breastbone, and I remember the way we danced with each other, the way we fell for each other. I remember the stars, the stolen kisses and that look he gives me - like he wants me, really wants me. My breathing hitches, lost in his urgency and overwhelming feelings.
Searching fingers grapple with my top, and in one swipe he trails it off, leaving me naked and totally at his mercy. I’m perched before him on my truck, trying to wake him up to the idea of forever. My palms skim his chest, gliding beneath the edges of his parted shirt, hanging at either side of him like curtains. I lick his nipple and watch goosebumps shower his smooth tanned skin like raindrops. Once he’s freed himself from his boxers, I feel the tip of him prod my inner thigh as he nestles into me. Gripping my knees, he yanks me closer. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. Blue to green.
His forehead tips to mine, and he slides his hand between to guide his length to my entrance. Right this second, under the sun, in his arms, if he told me to stay, I’d be right by his side. “Hayden...” I breathe out his name when he enters me.
My hands fall, palms to the hood, so I lean back and take all of him. Tipping my head, I break eye contact and gaze up to the Texas sky. A world away from home, but right where my wild heart belongs.
An arm swipes under me, and he steers me upwards, back to him. “Look at me, Summer,” he says with a gruffness hinting desperation.
As soon as my eyes find his, the intensity of his deep thrusts hit me hard. The rhythm unites us, a slow seductive motion that pulls me in. He holds me tight, so our lips search, our skin sizzles when it touches with a shivering necessity, and our hips move together, deepening the connection. The taste of him up close and personal is more than just fun.
I squeeze my eyelids shut when he slams into me. The ardor of crazy butterflies breaks free from my chest in a heartfelt cry. He manipulates my body with such care and attention, such strength and authority that I swear he’s the one. The shaking starts from my core and ripples right through me. My eyes roll, and my head lolls back when the orgasm hits. I feel his breath, the waning sunshine, the cool metal. I hear my heartbeat race, his rushed breathing and birds taking flight. I smell his sun kissed skin with undertones of mint, that minty fresh odor I love so much, because it’s him - he’s my awakening.
“Summer…” he growls into the side of my face, his lips dragging over my skin. The muscles in his shoulders brace and his spine goes rigid. “Fuuuuck.”
I’m plastered against his chest when he chases his own high. The ferocity of his release takes us both by surprise. His eyes dart to mine, and his lips drag over my open mouth. Rough and quick turns to slow and steady, giving me time to process everything. How can I ever leave this place after that earth-shattering performance? I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited and aroused - and when I think ‘ever’, I actually mean it.
Pulling back, his lips hitch with a lazy, satisfied smirk. “That was something else, honey.” His throatiness is such a turn on. I think about changing my name to honey, just to hear him say it every day. I’d certainly like to be the honey in his coffee or the dusting of icing honey on his cake. I’ll happily be his sweetness, so he can devour me time and time again.
I snuggle into the crook of his neck and inhale. “It was everything.” I should tell him how much I loved it. I really should, but I’m hesitant to open up. It feels like I’m an excited filly, lined up at the track ready to race, only I’ve shot forward too soon because I thought I heard the starter horn. We had sex a handful of times, and I’m already thinking about a future with the guy.
Sex is sex, right? It doesn’t mean love or togetherness… or even forever.
