CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Edward
I woke up the next morning, still not able to believe I was holding Cara Hargrave in my arms. In my sleep, my hand had moved up, cupping one of her breasts, and now I was hard as fuck against her bare ass.
I groaned a little, then moved my hand between her legs.
She was wet. I wondered if she’d dreamed about me in her sleep.
“Hey,” I whispered in her ear. She made some sleep sounds and sighed. “Cara,” I nudged her.
Her beautiful eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me. A slow smile crossed her face. “Hey.”
I moved my cock against her, and her eyes opened wider. “Can I fuck you?”
“Please,” she moaned moving back against me. I hadn’t thought it was possible to get harder, but I was wrong.
I rolled over and got a condom. I put it on, then got back behind her, spooning her, holding her close.
I pulled her left leg up and over mine as I entered her while lying on our sides.
I heard her cry out softly, as I pumped into her gently.
My hands were on her tits, pinching her nipples a little, and soon she was pushing her ass back into me, urging me to move faster, harder.
“Edward,” she cried out, as I moved within her.
I nuzzled her shoulder and then bit down, not hard, but she sucked in her breath.
I pumped harder and harder, steeling myself not to come too soon.
I moved a hand between her legs and massaged her clit.
She started making little gasping sounds, that turned me on so much I thought I would lose my mind.
I pounded into her, gritting my teeth so I wouldn’t come.
Finally, she came, screaming out so loud, I was afraid the hotel staff would think I was killing her.
I grunted behind her as I came, too, the climax seeming to last forever as I continued pumping inside her.
Finally, I pulled out and stilled beside her.
I pulled her to me, hugging her, kissing her neck and shoulders.
We lay like that, limbs entangled with each other for a while. At one point, I realized we’d fallen back asleep. I’d finally pulled her tighter to me, nudging her gently to wake her up. She lay with her head against my chest. “I don’t want to get up,” she moaned. “This feels too good.”
We lay there, spooned together, me holding her like I would die if I ever had to let her go again. “This. You,” I whispered in her ear. “We’re made to fit together. It’s always been you and me. It’s never been even close to like this with anyone else.”
She’d turned her head so she could see me and gently run a finger along my jawline. “It’s the same for me. We just… fit. It feels right with you.”
She turned in my arms until we were chest to chest, holding each other. I buried my hands in her hair and planted kisses along her neck.
Finally, aware of the time, I pulled back reluctantly. “Do you want to shower first or me?” I asked.
“Mmm. I just want to lay here for a while.” Her body looked like it was one with the bed as she lay sprawled across the sheets. God, she had a beautiful ass. I bent over and kissed it, then bit it lightly, causing her to squeal and lurch away from me.
I grinned and headed to take my shower. When I got out, she was sitting up watching for me.
She hadn’t bothered to cover herself, and the sight of her amazing, naked rack was making me hard again.
I sighed. I could tell I’d never get enough of this woman.
She was eyeing me, too, and I went shirtless a while longer, loving that she liked how I looked.
“While you shower, I’ll order breakfast. This time I won’t order the entire restaurant. What would you like?”
“Just fruit and yogurt for me, thanks.” She slid past me, naked, and I caught her around the waist pulling her to me.
“You can eat more than that, baby. You’re all muscle except for here and here,” I grabbed a breast in one hand and her ass with the other, squeezing and relishing the heavy feel of them in my hands.
She just smiled. “You don’t understand how hard it is. Especially with a body like mine.” She went in and closed the door, and I heard the shower going. I frowned after her. What did she mean by that comment?
I ordered breakfast, finished getting dressed, and looked out the window at the view of the harbor down below. Charleston was a beautiful city, but I was aching for time to go by faster. I was ready for the day she moved closer to Wixby.
Breakfast came before she was done getting ready, so I sat and waited for her, pulling out my laptop to check several things with the orchard and get caught up with business emails.
I had an important one from my office manager letting me know I was needed back in Wixby.
Spider mites had been found in a row of Jonagold apple trees, and he wanted me there to help oversee the application of insecticide.
I sighed, knowing I’d have to reschedule the appointments I had for the rest of the week.
And more importantly that I’d have to leave Cara a hell of a lot sooner than I’d wanted to.
My eyebrows lifted when I saw that Garrison Hart had emailed me.
I read it, expecting it to say something about Cara or informing me that he was pulling out of our contract.
But it didn’t. He just wrote that he knew it would be a pleasure doing business with me, and that he was glad to have Ashton Orchards as part of Hart Family Farmers Market. It seemed almost like a form email.
Weird. I don’t know why, but that email made me feel even more nervous than all his freaky talk about wanting me to leave Cara alone or date his daughter Nora. It was such a shift in tone that it was disconcerting.
Cara came out, hair washed, dried and flowing straight down her back like a dark, silky river. She was wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt, and I could tell she was wearing a sports bra under it. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows. “You had clothes with you?”
“A girl always has to be prepared,” she said with a wink as she patted her large leather tote bag.
I grinned at her. “Is that what your sexy lingerie was, too? Coming prepared?”
“Maybe,” she breathed as she leaned over and dropped a kiss on my cheek.
I lifted the cloche off our breakfast order. I felt guilty as hell eating real food while she had such a tiny breakfast. “Are you sure you can’t have some of my eggs? Don’t you need protein?”
She glanced at my plate. I could tell she wanted some, and I’d seen her eat eggs the day before. “I guess I could have just a little bit, if you don’t mind sharing.” She held her plate out, and I put a good-sized helping on it before she could protest.
Her concern over what she was eating made me think about what she’d said earlier about her body. “What did you mean earlier when you said you had to work hard to stay fit with a body like yours? I think your body’s fucking perfect.”
Her cheeks pinked up, but she smiled. “I only meant that I don’t have the typical dancer’s body.
Most ballet dancers are tall and thin with lots of lean muscle.
I’m short, curvy, and my muscles look almost bulky next to someone like Nora, for instance.
If I eat anything extra at all, it goes straight to my boobs or my ass.
As it is, I have to strap everything down with extra support underneath my dancewear for practice or performances. ”
“Oh. I guess most ballet dancers are pretty skinny.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘skinny,’ exactly, but definitely very thin and toned. Some people just naturally have that kind of body and others don’t. I don’t. So, I have to work extra hard to stay looking the right way. Nora can eat almost anything and stay super thin. She barely has to worry about it.”
“But you look so much better in those tiny ballet costumes.”
“You know they’re called tutus, right?”
“I mean… I don’t care what they’re called. You just look hot as fuck in them.” I grinned at her and popped a donut hole in my mouth.
She smiled, but she ducked her head. “Quit embarrassing me.”
I chewed thoughtfully on my breakfast before responding. “Are you sure you want to be a dancer five more years?”
Her green eyes shot to mine. “What do you mean?” Her tone was a little defensive.
Shit. I didn’t want to piss her off. “Just that this life seems… hard. Draining. I would think it would be easy to burn out. How long do most ballet dancers work?”
“Oh. Um… a lot of dancers are done by thirty, but some can last longer. It just depends.”
“And you dance how many hours a day?”
“Between four and ten,” she said between bites of her food. “But it’s usually somewhere in the middle, like five or six.”
“So, you have almost no free time.” My heart sank. It was going to be difficult to spend much time with her and not just because we lived in two different states.
She shrugged. “I get a couple of days off a week. The days vary depending on the performance schedule and the time of year. The holiday season is insane. But I get a couple of weeks off between seasons.”
That made me feel a little better. “So, if I was to come to town to see you, we’d have some time together?”
“Yes. You’d just have to be understanding about how strict my schedule can be.”
I wondered if that’s why she rarely dated anyone. It would be difficult to meet anyone and then keep a relationship going if she was busy all the time. I wasn’t complaining, though. Whatever had kept her single had benefitted me.
“And your season just started?”
She nodded.
“So how are you going to audition for other companies?”
“On days off. Every company I applied to is close enough to drive there and audition in a day. Or my dad could send the plane for me.” She looked up from her plate. She looked almost embarrassed as she said, “Wixby River Farms has one now.”