Page 18 of Home in the Country
“Good for you,” he grits out.
“With you.”
“Why?” The question is clipped but curious.
“Because I need it. I need to feel like me again, and even though you’re mad, I still trust you.”
Silence stretches between us as unsuspecting concertgoers skirt around our standoff. I’m not this girl who propositions men for sex, but this feelsrightin some twisted way. That thought should probably register as a red flag, but I’m choosing to ignore it for orgasm reasons.
“You play by my rules.”
“Okay,” I say without hesitation, and he raises one eyebrow in response. I don’t have anything to follow that up with so I wait.
Growling, he grabs my hand and pulls me through the field, and I’m struck by another memory of being in a field. Lying on the blanket draped over him while he lazily stroked his fingers up and down my arm. He’d had one arm tucked behind his head as we watched the clouds float by without a care in the world. That memory is filled with a sweet, youthful bliss and absolutely nothing like my current reality.
And yet…
My heart pumps harder in my chest as the possibilities race through my mind.
Even if this is purely hate sex for him, I want to be properly ravaged by him. I want to feel sexy and needed and desired—hell, I want to feelusedin all the ways that make him come undone.
We stop in front of the passenger side of a pickup truck that’s different from the one he had in college.
“Are you sure? Likereallyfuckin’ sure?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He wrenches the door open and points. “Then get in the fuckin’ truck.”
I refrain from sayingyes sirbecause I’m not sure how well received that would be right now.
Tucking that thought away for later, I buckle my seatbelt, then take my phone out and text Marlee.
FALLON: Otto is bringing me home
CHEYENNE: Yeah, no one missed that
RHEA: You okay?
FALLON: How did this become a group text?
ISLA: You’re stuck with us babe (kiss face emoji)
FALLON: Well then yes, I’m fine
RHEA: Sigh…use protection and call if you need a ride
FALLON: Thanks girls (heart emoji)
“Your kid okay?” Otto’s voice startles me, and I jump a little in the seat as the engine roars to life.
“Yeah, my parents have him overnight. I just wanted to let Marlee know that I wasn’t riding home with her, and now I’m in a group text, I guess.”
I try to laugh it off, but Otto’s hands tighten on the wheel as he slowly navigates through the lot to the main road.
“I’d invite you to my new place but I’m only half unpacked, and I mean, it’s fine if we just have sex but—”
Cutting myself off, I wring my hands in my lap. My son is five. I should have no problem staying quiet because that kid talksa lot,but this is different. The silence isn’t comfortable; it’s filled with tension and I hate that.
