Page 17 of Dance in the Light
I grabbed her waist and plowed into her to the hilt. “Ah, yes. Like that?” It seemed a great idea, but now I had to pause and take in a few breaths because skin on skin in her tight walls was proving too much for me.
“Mm. Can’t handle me, stud?” I heard the smirk in her voice, but it’s her squirming on my dick that did me in.
“Fair warning, I’m done talking. Now feel this.”
With gritted teeth, I plowed her deep and good, leaving her panting for more. And once again, deeper, as she moaned out my name. My eyes drifted to the stars as I quickened my pace.“Tight and wet, baby.” We gained a rhythm together, so good, I’d lose control any minute. But I needed to feel closer to her.
I shifted us, so I sat on the truck bed, and she straddled me. Our mouths connected, dancing tongues, as she twerked on me. “I can’t last, baby.”
“It’s so good, better than I dreamed.”
“You dreamed of us fucking?”
“Fantasized so many times, Ryan, more than I care to admit.”
“Well, now I know, so we’ll have plenty of conversations about these fantasies of yours and compare notes.” My mouth sucked in air, because I was breathless, seeking release inside of the woman I’d loved for too long, and someday, when she was ready, we’d say those three words to each other. For now, in my mind, I saidI love you.
To her, I said, “Let’s finish together, baby, because it’s always been you and me.”
My hands wrapped around her for more leverage as I rammed myself in deep and held her there, exploding everything I had into her. Her walls tightened vice-like around me and together we shook so hard, old Bessie creaked and groaned.
“I should have set the emergency brake,” I laughed, out of breath, and out of sorts.
She buried her head on my chest and laughed too, breathing hard and unable to talk yet. When she did, she only had one question. “How soon can you get it up again?”
“I think at this point, you breathe on me and I’ll get hard as a rock.”
“Really?” She blew across my chest.
I held her tighter, my chest shaking from laughing so hard. “I might need a few more minutes to recover yet.”
Which suited me fine. Just holding each other tight under the stars on our hill was everything. Better than any dream of us I’d ever had.
TWELVE
MORE REASONS TO STAY
CINDY
Ryan and I met up every chance we could, often here at the farmhouse, talking and making love. Once we started, it was like our friendship returned, only sweeter now because we could finally touch each other, and admit what was growing between us was special.
I spent most of my days going room by room, removing the junk and deeply cleaning the place. Tackling Mom and Dad’s bedroom was next. Gabby stopped by after school, helping me go through some of Mom’s clothes. After crying my heart out to Ryan about Dad, I just didn’t think I could handle this part on my own.
“Oh my gosh, look at this closet. It’s like a time capsule of boho style. I love it,” Gabby ruffled her fingers across the sleeves of mom’s clothes hanging there, stopping now and then to pull the hangers apart and admire a dress or two.
“Mom had a lovely taste in everything—clothes, this home and the way she decorated it . . .”
“If I didn’t have the tiniest closet at Megan and Robbie’s house, shared with Daphne, of course, I’d keep most of this stuff. I love everything I see so far.”
I always admired her free spirit. “Fitting, since you seem to be the one who inherited Mom’s artsy ways. In the coldest winters of New York City, those scarves you knitted for me are the ones I turn to every time, and the ones I get the most compliments on.”
“Oh. Look at this one,” she gasped, pulling out a hanger and holding an item up to her in the mirror. “Tan knitted halter with long fringe? Love it. Do you think she made this herself? There’s no tag.”
“Hm, maybe? It’s more revealing than most of the things I recall Mom wearing. Will it fit? She was a little more busty than you.”
“Let’s find out.” My baby sister tore her blouse off over her head and a shocking view assailed my eyes. What looked to be a fresh tattoo of a big butterfly covered her upper shoulder blade.
“Gabby!”
