Page 70 of Back in the Country
“No. Unless you consider an explosion of pleasure being hurt.”
He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even chuckle. Instead he pulls me tighter against him and breathes in the scent of my hair.
“Way?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, baby. I’m right where I want to be.”
We don’t speak again, but I can’t help but feel like something isn’t quite right. The ferocity of Waylon’s movements, coupled by his obvious need to be close to me, feels like he’s trying to imprint himself on me. Before, the possessiveness was all-consuming in the best possible way, but now the desperation feels like he’s trying to take a part of me for himself.
Does he not realize that he’salwaysbeen a part of me?
Even at a young age my soul had recognized his and softly whisperedWaylonwhen he was around. Back then I just thought I was drawn to his strength after such an abrupt change in my life. As I got older, I recognized it for what it was.
Waylon has always been mine. Time and space meant nothing to the way my heart beat only for him. His rejection when I was in college was only a minor inconvenience for the rest of our lives.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell him about Caleb and Nashville, and everything will be fine.
28
WAYLON
The feel of Marlee’s body next to me when I wake up in the morning is a luxury I’m not sure I deserve. Last night had been earth-shattering. I’d been completely out of my mind with the need to consume every inch of her. Every sweet noise and moan spurred me on until I could no longer think, only feel.
She feels like home.
My home.
She always has.
We need to have a serious conversation this morning, but I can’t bear to wake her. Her blonde hair is fanned out across the pillows and my chest. She is so damn beautiful, and while I love her free spirit, it is nice to see the absolute peace on her face as she sleeps.
“You’re up too early,” she mumbles as she turns and buries her face into my neck. I chuckle and hug her tighter against me.
“Habit, Baby Girl.”
“But it’s Sunday.”
“I’ll make you breakfast.”
“And coffee?”
Kissing the crown of her head, I let myself smile at the easiness of the moment.
“And coffee.”
“Fine.” She draws out the word but makes no attempt to dislodge herself from me. I let her snuggle for another minute before patting her ass and sliding out of bed. She growls, but I kiss the tip of her nose and see the hint of a smile.
Grabbing a pair of athletic shorts from the floor, I pull them on and then make my way into the kitchen. It is early, and the sun’s rays are still gentle. It will be hot today but that isn’t anything new.
I pour some coffee grounds into the maker and then set two mugs on the counter. I am not fancy enough to need one of those pod machines, but I did get Mama one for Christmas a few years back. This one works just fine, and I like that I can eyeball the grounds without measuring.
Marlee’s phone buzzes on the table where she left it the night before. When it happens again, I look at the lit-up screen to see three messages from Caleb on the display.
CALEB:Are we ALWAYS going to have to deal with you running back there?
