Chapter 28 – Paloma
Six weeks later…
I was supposed to be home in Texas two weeks ago but like everything when you’re the lead singer of a rock band that’s taking off and gearing up for a worldwide tour, plans seem to change within the minute.
I miss Dallas. I’d only spent seventy-two glorious hours with him and yet I’d known he was it for me. We’ve been writing to each other back and forth for the past six weeks apart like we were teenagers again.
When his first letter arrived, it was delivered to my tour bus.
I tore it open eagerly before my concert in Portland and carried that good energy with me the rest of the night.
I was excited to get back to the bus and respond, but Bex reminded me I needed to stay focused, sleep off the concert and rest my voice for the next night in Seattle.
Then more letters came in. These filled with detailed recaps of my concerts he’d somehow managed to watch virtually every night with Wylie and Stevie. His letters included praise for my performance, and scrutiny for any of my fans he felt like Blade should have been handling rougher.
I loved every moment of reading them.
Unlike the cocky, apathetic guy I’d written to when I was younger, Dallas wrote me every single day, without missing a single one, finding me wherever I was on the coast and never ceasing to make me smile and laugh with his stories about farming and his younger years that we missed out on sharing together.
Once I finally had a chance to write back, we used the time apart to continue learning about each other as if we were sitting down each evening for a coffee and chat.
And now, finally, I’m back in Lonestar Junction, ready to sit on the wrap around porch of Golden Farm and have that cup of coffee in person.
"Dallas!" I scream, not caring who stares as I jump up and down, waving my arms wildly in the middle of the San Angelo airport.
I sprint toward him, my lungs burning and arms pumping as I dash across the small terminal reaching the man I love.
I hurl myself into his strong arms, and even with all of my weight behind it, he catches me effortlessly, not even flinching.
He holds me tightly, his face nestled into my neck as he breathes in deeply.
“Damn, you smell good. Even after being on a plane all morning.”
I smile; my long limbs still wrapped around him as if he’s part of me because that’s exactly how he’s always felt.
He bends down, leaving me clinging to him just like that first night we spent together.
Then, he picks up my luggage and walks toward the exit while allowing me to snuggle further into his big frame.
“I parked in a no parking zone, so we better get going.”
He gently places me in the passenger seat, tosses my bags into the back of his truck, and slides into the driver’s side with a smile.
We’d missed spending Christmas and New Year’s together—two of my favorite holidays—and now, as January comes to a close, early spring seems just around the corner in Texas.
I feel a strange sense of sad nostalgia being gone for these major holidays away from my family and him, the people that I love most.
“Got a surprise for you,” he says as we take off on the short thirty-minute drive back to town.
I rub my hands together eagerly, “I can’t wait to see what it is.”
I admire his side profile as he drives, the way he's grown out his beard and the fullness of his lips as he concentrates on the road while his free hand rests firmly on my thigh.
Six weeks with no contact except written letters, we'd had to get very descriptive about what we wanted to do to each other when we were together again, and I’m feeling extra horny and completely flustered.
I reach across the console, cupping the noticeable bulge in his denim jeans firmly and savoring the fact that I can do this again.
He laughs, “You’re going to cause an accident with all that, Paloma.”
“I need you,” I groan, “Please, can we pull over somewhere. Like… I don’t know, a motel?”
His eyes lock onto mine briefly, his jaw tightening with resolve.
“Behave.”
He removes my hand from his pants, places it back on my lap then dips his own fingers into the waist band of my sweatpants as I spread my knees wider, welcoming his touch. Into my pants his fingers slip as he roughly pushes aside my underwear and dips two digits inside of my opening.
“My girl. So wet for me.”
“I've been so deprived,” I lament dramatically as I lay my head back on the seat rest and close my eyes while rocking my hips forward to deepen his thrusts.
Suddenly, the truck lurches to the right causing my eyes to fly open as he makes a sharp turn onto a dirt road. After a short distance, he pulls over into an abandoned field and puts the truck in park.
“What’s going on?”
“Get in the bed of the truck.”
“Oohh!” I squeal hopping out and walking around to the back where Dallas has already pulled down the hatch.
It’s deep enough that if we’re both lying on our backs, we can’t be seen by rogue passerby’s and the road where we parked on seems abandoned anyways, but there’s still a thrill of possibly being caught that I like.
I lay down on my back as Dallas climbs on top of me and settles between my legs, yanking my sweatpants from my hips but keeping my underwear intact and pushing it to the side.
"Leaving this on just in case someone comes I can quickly push it back in place. Don’t want someone getting an eyeful of your beauty who doesn’t deserve to see it."
He snaps the band of my flimsy underwear as I nod, then lowers his head, licking one flat, long lick across my opening before burying his face so firmly inside of me I can feel his nose against the inside of my walls.
“Fuck…”
His forearm reaches out, pinning my abdomen in place while his other hand grabs my thigh, tossing my leg over his shoulder so that he can deepen his reach into me.
“I love the way you taste. Been thinking about this every single night when I jack off.”
“Fuck…” I groan again, arching into his mouth as his tongue dives deeper. The rough fabric of the thong that’s still in place cuts right over my clit, adding to the friction and reminding me that this will likely go fast.
His hands reach under my loose t-shirt, tweaking a nipple between his calloused fingers.
“You bloom just like my plants, so perfectly in my hands,” he pulls back to admire the view between my legs, and I’m once again reminded of the many ways that Dallas embraces and cherishes my femineity. “Never seen such a pretty flower in bloom.”
His face lowers again, this time drawing my clit into his lips and lashing at it with his tongue. His words of praise have become my favorite poetry and when I quickly come, I know I'll have marks on my back from the way my body thrashed against the ridged truck bed.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says smiling as he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wipes around my sensitive, swollen folds. After I’m clean, he slides my sweatpants back over my hips and helps me out of the bed and back into the truck.
Twenty-five minutes later of animated chatter from me catching him up on my tour, we’re finally pulling into Golden farm.
“So, what’s the big surprise?” I ask. “Lunch in bed with your cock warming inside of me? Or naked roof sex again?”
He shakes his head, “I promise there will be lots of that this weekend but what I have first is even better.”
“I can’t imagine what can be better than naked roof sex,” I grumble.
He opens the gate to the newly stoned pathway he’s remodeled and up to the front door. When we finally walk inside, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the lighting and when they do, they grow wide at the site of so many familiar faces filling his living room.
“Merry Christmas, Dove!” My family and friends all shout at the same time from their positions spread out around his home.
I swivel around, taking in how the place has transformed since I was last here over eight weeks ago. It’s full of Christmas lights, a large, decorated tree to the side, and tiny paper snowflakes cut into various shapes, draped from the second floor down to the first-floor ceiling.
“What is this?” I ask, feeling the familiar, salty burn of tears in my throat.
“You couldn’t be home for Christmas this year because of the tour, so I had the Camerons, and your family help me put up some decorations so we could celebrate when you got back.”
He moves his face closer, his lips brushing against my ear.
“And I remembered how you said that when you were little, your favorite part of the holidays was making paper snowflakes and stringing them around the house with your mom. Your mom and I worked on those last night and I have the fresh blisters to prove it.” He holds out his hands with a wide grin.
My eyes fill with tears as I look around the room again.
My mom and dad are in the corner, Millie and Franklin hang out in the kitchen, Wylie and Stevie—now fully pregnant—stand nearby, and Jovie and Nash are wrangling their two wild baby twins by the fire place.
Clay and Savannah sit on the couch, and a few of my high school friends I’ve kept in touch with are cozied up next to them. It’s more than I ever imagined.
“It’s… magical. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Dallas shrugs as if it isn’t the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.
“I know you were disappointed that we didn't get to spend our first official Christmas together, and I would have loved to have you here, but you were living your dreams. I don't see how celebrating a month later makes things any different.”
I turn to him abruptly, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close.
The tenderness, thoughtfulness, and care he’s put into this moment shatters my heart into a million pieces, fragmenting the parts of me I thought I knew so well.
Parts of me that long to be free, to travel, pursue my wildest dreams, to be filled with wanderlust and untethered to anyone.