Chapter 44
Forty-Four
Henry
I grit my teeth. I’m lost in Tabitha’s sweet body.
I’m no longer alone.
She completes me in a way I never imagined.
How can I give this up?
How can I give her up?
I’m not ready for this to be over. Not even slightly ready.
Quickly I pull out.
“Henry?”
I turn her over so she’s lying on her back.
“I just want to look at you,” I say. “Kiss you.”
I move on top of her and crush my lips to hers.
This time it’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a raw and taking kiss, like what we’ve done in the past. I could kiss her forever, but despite that, I break the kiss and move down her body, stopping briefly at her nipples to suck each one, but then down her belly to her mound, where I spread her legs.
“I’m going to eat you. I’m going to suck this pussy, Tabitha. I’m going to make you come. And then I’m going to make you come again. And again. And I won’t stop until you beg me to.”
“Oh, Henry… Please…”
She’s so wet, so ready, and my dick—still hard as a rock, of course—throbs between my legs. So easy… It would be so easy to cram it back inside her and release.
But I don’t.
I slowly slide my tongue between her folds. Savor her.
Then I close my lips around her clit and suck softly, gently. She undulates beneath me, arching her back, raising her hips. I kiss her inner thighs, give her a few quick bites. Then I return to her pussy. I shove my tongue into her heat, withdraw, and then again.
“God, Henry, please.”
I lick her and lick her and lick her, paying only minimal attention to her clit, until finally…finally…it’s time. I shove two fingers inside her and suck her clit hard.
Her orgasm is immediate, and she clamps over my fingers, squeezes her thighs around my head.
Her moans, her soft sighs…
God…
I move my fingers in and out of her, swirling them, scissoring them, making sure I pay a lot of attention to that soft spot on the anterior.
I wait for the orgasm to subside so I can begin again, but the contractions don’t stop. As I work her, she continues to come.
I suck on her clit, and she convulses again. She’s so wet now that I can add a third finger.
My dick is itching to get back inside her, but if I do that, her orgasm will eventually stop.
As her contractions start to wane once more, I flip her over onto her stomach.
But before she can say anything, I slide my tongue through her pussy folds from behind and then jab my fingers back into her while I lick her ass again.
Again, she explodes.
And again…
Again…
“Henry…please…”
“Come again for me.”
“No. No more. Need you. Inside me.”
“Not until you come again, amber eyes. You come for me. I want to suck every bit of cream out of that hot pussy.”
“Oh God…”
“Do it,” I command. “Come for me.”
I suck at her folds, bite them, fuck her with my fingers.
Until—
“Fuck, Henry! Fuck!”
I pull one more orgasm out of her, and this one… This one…
This one makes her body shake with tremors.
She clutches at the bed linens as she quivers, murmurs unintelligible words.
I can’t wait any longer.
In a flash, I’m on top of her with my cock inside her warm and inviting pussy.
Fucking paradise.
I thrust, thrust, thrust…
Until—
“Tabitha!” I cry out as I release.
Every pulse, every contraction of my cock that gives me that euphoric feeling I know is a hundred times better than it ever was before.
I almost feel like I’ve been propelled out of my own body. Circling the stars with Tabitha, our two bodies joined together in one unique entity.
A moment—or an hour; time seems to have lost all meaning—later, I turn Tabitha to face me and kiss her lips for what may be the last time.
She falls asleep in my arms.
But I don’t fall asleep. I just lie there next to her, staring at her beautiful body, savoring every minute with this perfect woman. This woman I don’t deserve.
Hours pass, and finally the first glints of sunrise slink through the window.
Morning.
I rake my gaze over her one more time and then rip myself away. I silently gather my clothes, get dressed, and leave without saying goodbye.
I slump into Aunt Melanie’s kitchen chair wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. The coffee mug in my hand is warm, but I feel cold. Aunt Melanie pours herself a cup and slides into the seat across from me.
She eyes me over the rim as she takes a sip. “You look like a man who didn’t sleep.”
“I didn’t,” I admit. “My head’s been on overdrive.”
She nods like she’s been expecting this.
I run a hand through my hair. “I told her to go.”
Aunt Mel raises her eyebrows. “Her?”
“Tabitha.” Her name feels heavy in my mouth. “I… Well, that’s a lie.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell her to go. I just left.”
“Back up,” Aunt Melanie says. “Yesterday you were tied up in knots about your birth mother, and today…”
“I’m tied up in knots about Tabitha Haynes.”
She cocks her head. “Tabitha?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I’m feeling something I’ve never felt before.”
“Yet you’re saying you pushed her away.”
“I had to.” I set the mug down too hard, and coffee sloshes over the side. “I haven’t dealt with everything. With what happened that night. What I did.”
She doesn’t flinch. “You protected your sister.”
“I killed a man, Aunt Mel.” I meet her gaze. “No matter how justified it was, it doesn’t just wash off. It’s still on me. Every damned day.”
She takes a breath and sets her mug down. “Trauma doesn’t make you unlovable, Henry. Nor does it make you unable to love. It makes you human.”
I shake my head. “She deserves someone better. Someone whole.”
Aunt Melanie leans forward, eyes sharp but kind. “No one is whole. Not really. And no one who’s worth loving expects you to be.”
I look away, jaw tight. “I didn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. She was starting to see the cracks.”
“Good.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Love isn’t about showing someone your mask. It’s about letting them see behind it.”
I’m quiet for a moment, staring at the table.
“I really think I may love her,” I whisper.
Aunt Melanie touches my hand. “Then go after her.”
I blink.
“You’ve been through hell,” she says. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking you have to come out the other side alone. Love doesn’t wait around forever. And it damned sure doesn’t knock twice.”
I swallow hard.
She squeezes my hand. “Whatever else you’re going through, don’t turn your back on love.”
And just like that, I know what I have to do.
I stop back at my parents’ house to pick up Zach, and then I take the long way to my house on the ranch, winding past the old cottonwoods and over the cattle guard that still rattles like it did when I was a kid.
Dust kicks up behind my truck as I pull into the driveway, the tires crunching over gravel.
The house looms ahead—half covered in Tyvek wrap, half framed with fresh cedar planks that haven’t weathered yet.
It smells like sawdust and sunbaked wood.
The front porch is littered with ladders, stacked two-by-fours, and a forgotten Red Bull can. No one’s here. It’s Sunday.
Perfect.
I park by the barn and kill the engine. The silence is thick. No hammering, no compressors. Just the wind and the faint clatter of something loose on the roofline.
I step out, boots hitting hard ground, and walk to the front door—or what will be the front door once it’s hung again. Zach is beside me, panting with a big doggy smile on his face.
Even though the place is in shambles, he knows we’re home.
Inside, the place smells like drywall dust and pine.
Cool air rushes through the exposed studs where insulation hasn’t been installed yet.
I walk through what will be the living room, my boots echoing over subflooring.
The new windows are in—floor to ceiling.
They flood the space with light, even on a cloudy day like this one.
In the distance, the Rockies rise like the majestic mountains they are.
“Looking good, huh, boy?” I scratch behind Zach’s ears.
I step into the kitchen and grin. The island frame is done. I picture Tabitha standing there, barefoot, coffee in hand, hair a mess from sleep. I picture her here too easily.
That scares the shit out of me.
The bedrooms are framed in. The primary suite is taking shape—walk-in closet, private bath, corner windows. I run my fingers along the edge of the windowsill. It’s smooth, solid. The crew did good work.
It’s becoming real.
My house was beautiful, but after…
Fuck.
After I killed Ralph Normandy.
I need to just say the words—or think them.
After I killed Ralph Normandy, I needed a change. A total renovation.
Even with the renovation, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live here. Not after the months of pretending I was okay when I was coming apart.
But now…
Now there’s her.
Tabitha.
I close my eyes and breathe in the sawdust and the faint scent of lilacs from outside. I imagine her laughter echoing down the hallway. Her clothes hanging next to mine. Her toothbrush beside the sink.
I open my eyes. “It could work,” I say out loud.
Zach cocks his head at me.
“It could,” I say, “if I don’t fuck it up.”
I walk back out through the studs, past the place where the fireplace will go. The stones are stacked outside, waiting to be set. Just like me.
I head back to my truck, heart pounding now with something that feels like hope. I’ve got a full tank of gas and nothing left to lose.
“Feel like a road trip?” I say to Zach.
Time to drive to Boulder. Tabitha will get there several hours ahead of me, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.
And this time, I’m not letting her walk away.
Just as I’m about to leave, something shifts.
A soft crack behind me—sharp, almost like a tree branch snapping. I turn my head instinctively and scan the half-finished porch.
And then—
Crack!
Blinding pain explodes across my skull.
The world tilts.
Spins.
A sharp yap. I think it comes from Zach.
A support beam—one of the unfinished braces—lies on the ground beside me, splintered at the edge. I don’t remember falling. Just the jolt. The white-hot sting.
My knees gave out.
I hit the dirt hard, my cheek pressed into the gravel, blood pooling warm beneath me.
The last thing I think about before everything fades is her name.
Tabitha.