Page 36 of Feels Like Falling
“You all right, Max?” she asks as we make our way down the porch steps and toward the ATV, but all I can do is nod because if I open my mouth, I’m going to say something I can’t take back likeI want to fuck you until you only ever think of me.
I’d like to think I’m more of a gentleman than that, but dammit, right now I don’t want to be.
Ellison slides onto the bench seat next to me, and I have to look away as her dress rides up her tanned thighs. My hands grip the steering wheel, the leather creaking at the force of my grip, and I don’t have to see her face to know that her eyes are wide and her kissable fucking lips are parted.
She may think she knows what she’s doing, but she has no fucking clue. Hell, most of the time I don’t have a clue. But right now, as we drive back to the house with only the sounds of the Tennessee night around us, I know exactly what I want.
And I don’t want to wait.
The barn casts a shadow over us, and as soon as I’ve thrown the ATV in park, my hand is around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me. My lips crash against hers, and Ellison doesn’t even hesitate for a second before she’s pushing her tongue into my mouth and her breasts are pressed against me.
“I hated seein’ you look at him like that,” I growl and turn my body so more of me is touching more of her. But it’s not enough.
“Like what?” she huffs as she manages to wedge herself between my chest and the steering wheel as she straddles my lap.
“Like you wanted him,” I grit out as she rocks her hips against me, and I move my hands up to cup her breasts. They’re fuller than when we were eighteen, and I have half a mind to rip the dress apart just to see them spill out into the moonlight.
“You should see how I look at you.” She moans the words as my fingers tweak and pull at her nipples, fondling her as she gasps and writhes against me.You should see how I look at you.I have no idea what to do with that, but right now all that matters is her.
“Right now I want to see how you look coming all over my fingers.”
“Do it.” The words are a command as her teeth nip at my earlobe. My groan is low and pained as I maneuver us until I’m standing and she’s spread out on the bench seat. The hood would be preferable, but it’s too damn hot after racing back here.
She leans back on her elbows, and I want to strip her down and fuck her senseless right here and then take her inside and do it again. But for now, I settle for dragging her panties down her legs and shoving them into the pocket of my jeans and pushing the hem of her dress all the way up until she’s completely exposed to me.
I stare at her, completely transfixed by the absolute beauty before me.
“Montana, please.” Her plea has my gaze snapping to hers, her chest heaving and her lips parted, but it’s the way she said my name—my real name—that has my mouth crashing against hers as I tease my thumb against her clit.
Ellison gasps into my mouth and I kiss her harder, one hand braced on the seat next to her and the other between her legs as her hands fist in my hair. I slip one finger inside her and then another, her back arching into me in the most spectacular way as she bucks her hips, desperate for release.
“I need more,” she pants as I kiss down her neck and over the valley of her breasts before crooking my fingers and sucking her nipple through the fabric of her dress. She screams my name, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet night, and I can’t help but chuckle as she pulses and flutters around me.
She’s beautiful like this—flushed and sated in the moonlight and well on her way to bein’ mine.
“God, I needed that,” she says as she sits up and reaches for my belt buckle, “and now I need?—”
My cell phone rings in my back pocket, the sound shrill compared to the seductive lilt of Ellison’s voice, but I know who’s calling—it’s the only ringtone that’s different because it has to be. My hand wraps around her wrist as I pull the device out. “What’s wrong?”
17
ELLISON
“We have to go,” is the only thing Montana says after hanging up the phone and reaching for my hand.
I could hear Celeste’s panicked voice over the line, and instead of me screaming Montana’s name as he made me come harder than I ever have in my life, sirens fill the air as we race across the lawn to the house.
My panties are still in his pocket, my thighs slick with my release, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is getting to Grandad.
He promised me.
The ambulance pulls up before we reach the house, two guys I recognize from town jumping out and racing up the porch just as we’re rounding the corner. My heart drops to the floor as we burst into the living room.
One of the guys is talking to Grandad and Celeste as the other hustles back outside to grab the stretcher. Grandad looks pale, and for the first time in a long time he just…complies. He accepts the oxygen mask and doesn’t argue as Celeste describes the last couple of hours. He’s loaded onto the stretcher, and Montana squeezes my hand harder.
Guilt settles in my stomach like a lead balloon. While Montana and I had been playing games and fooling around, Grandad had been in trouble. He’d needed us and we weren’t here.
Is this my fault? If Montana had been home, he would have gotten help faster.
