Chapter 18
Logan
Then…
Penelope’s cheeks flush from her second orgasm, paired with the warmth inside their barn. It’s more of a glorified storage shed if you ask me, but it’s served as the perfect place for the two of us to escape.
Lying next to her on the pallet we’ve made in the loft, I lick her from my fingers like she’s god’s gift to earth.
No, that’s not right. God’s gift to me.
Her thick, dark lashes flutter as I explore her flexing abdomen, trailing the tips of those same fingers up her sternum.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” I vow, loving how her body responds by hardening her dark pink nipples.
“What? Playing with my boobs?”
Her eyes close as she laughs, but she arches into my touch when I cup one of them. I swirl my tongue over the bud, and my dick jerks at the sweet sigh she gives. “Of all your body parts, they are my favorite. But I meant you, specifically.”
Her brown eyes blink open with one hand lazily stroking my back. “Too bad our parents can’t stay gone all day.”
They’ve been away on business in Tauntuma for three hours, and we haven’t done a single one of our chores. The second I saw them pull out of the main drive, I made a break across the pasture for Penelope, and she yanked me in here by the front of my shirt.
This barn has become our hideaway, and my favorite secret to keep.
I roll her on top of me, helping her adjust as she straddles my hips, then slip inside her warmth with decadent ease. Her long, wild hair curtains her face, grazing her nipples as she rocks.
My hands glide up her thighs to the tapered part of her waist, where I loosely hold her. “You’re beautiful. Did you know that? Like a ray of sunshine.”
She nibbles the corner of a smile while riding me gently, leisurely. “I think I have to believe you at this point, considering you tell me every day.”
“That’s because it’s true,” I say. “And you’re funny. I like that about you.”
I buck my hips, arms flexing as I hold her up so I can rapidly slide in and out the way she likes.
“Logan. Oh. Please don’t stop,” she mewls, coaxing that burning-hot sensation at the base of my shaft.
I groan, knowing I’m close, but she clenches around my dick, mouth hanging open as she tumbles through another orgasm, and damn near takes me with her.
When she sits down, shifting her weight to her knees, I smirk. “I like it when you do that, too.”
“Do you like when I do this?” Digging her fingers into my chest, she throws her head back and moans, taking me deeper. “What about this?” She uses her hips to pin me so I can’t help her, riding me until I’m begging her to stop.
“Not yet, Pen. Not yet.” But my eyes are rolling back, body coiling, not giving me enough time to worry that we ditched the condom long ago. “I’m… Ah, fuck, I’m…”
She rises seconds before I come, hurrying to place her mouth around the tip, and sucks hard.
The shout I release damn near rattles the foundation.
“Oh my god.” I strain, my back bowing off the mat as she sucks me dry, smiling around the tip of my dick like a goddamn goddess.
When she’s sure she’s gotten every drop, she sits back on her haunches and proudly wipes her lower lip. “I’ve been wanting to do that.”
“You almost didn’t make it.”
A blush covers her chest when she realizes how close we were to an accident. “There could be worse things…”
I sit up, studying the keeper of my heart, swathed in a golden glow from the sunlight peeking through the slats with tiny particles of dust swirling around her body like a halo. There are far worse things than making her a mother, and yet… “We can’t risk it.”
“I know,” she says, bringing her pointer finger to her lips to nibble the nail.
“Is that what you want?” More timidly, I add, “A family?”
The spark in her eyes is vibrant enough to make me almost regret pulling out. “For sure. I want like, so many kids, and a big beach house, with a view to die for. The whole shebang.”
I smile at her excitement. Penelope would be a remarkable mother—loving, generous, and patient.
“I want to have a few, but I’m not changing any diapers.”
She punches my shoulder. “If you were married to me, I’d put you on permanent diaper duty.”
My stomach flips at the thought of making her my wife. “If I were married to you, I…” She blinds me with a smile that snatches the smartass remark right off my tongue. “I’d give you whatever you wanted.”
“Promise?”
I love that grin almost more than her sundresses. Needing her touch, I beckon for her, and as always, she meets me halfway, reading my thoughts before I can even form them.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to give you,” I say, reaching for my discarded jeans and sifting around in my pocket for my grandmother’s ring.
Penelope’s eyes flare. “What are you doing?”
Taking her right hand in mine, I slowly slip it over her finger, then press my lips to the emerald, set high in a pale gold band.
She sits, staring down at me as I lie on my back. With one hand, I guide her toward me to kiss her cheeks, nose, and jaw. “This isn’t a proposal, but a vow. And maybe that’s the same thing, but I don’t care because the point is, I love you, Penelope. I can’t offer you a lot right now, but this ring is the one thing besides you that holds any value to me.”
My lips whisper up her neck, damp with sweat that’s salty on my probing tongue. “You’re the only person who makes me feel safe. Did you know that? The only person who understands me, puts me in my place, and challenges me to be better.”
Her heart thunders against mine when she kisses beneath my ear. “You’re reading my thoughts.”
I hold her tighter, burying my face in the crook of her neck.
“I love you, too,” she says after a while. Wiggling her fingers in front of our faces, she beams. “I promise to take good care of this, and even better care of you.”
“Good. Because once we leave for the States to start the semester, I’m going to put in a request to transfer.”
Her palm flattens over my heart, a look of sheer relief on her sun-kissed face. “You are?”
“Yup. And when we graduate, I’m gonna get you your own ring, and give you all those babies you’re wanting.” I kiss her tempting lips. “With lots of practice, of course.”
She squirms happily. “There’s a wedding in there somewhere, I hope.”
Our future unfolds one layer at a time in my mind, and it’s so beautiful, it chokes the breath from my lungs. “Only if you promise not to wear white.”
Her laugh bounces off every corner of the barn. “Deal. Now come shower with me.”
Hard-pressed to deny her, I release her long enough for us to dress, grabbing her hand the second we make it down the ladder.
She bounces on the balls of her bare feet, stretching to place a kiss on my cheek. “Dad’s going to kill us for blowing off our chores.”
“If we shower quick enough, we can at least make it look like we tried.”
I help her roll the barn doors open while she carries on about what we should make for dinner tonight, and as we cross the lawn to her family’s home, I follow behind her like a lovesick pup.
The sun is high in the sky, the wind is cool against my skin, and I fall right back into what a future with her could look like. Her in a wild, Penelope-esque dress, and me, crying at the altar. Her, with her belly full every night with the meals we’d cook together, then full with our child once we take that leap. I’d build her dream house, and every night, I’d come home and worship her, cherish her, be completely consumed by her. And best of all, we’d be happy.
“Oh,” she says, stopping to pat her dress. She shoves her hands inside her pockets, only to come up empty. “Dang it. I think I left my phone up in the loft.”
Glancing back at the barn, I say, “I’ll grab it and then meet you upstairs.”
“Thank you.” She gives my ass a firm squeeze. Then, like the seductress she is, she says, “Don’t be long.”
Unable to help myself, I watch her in her flowing pink sundress as she takes the steps up the porch to the front door. She slips inside, hurriedly, and when I double back to the barn, I’m on cloud fucking nine.
Nothing, and no one, can ruin this day.
I’m so lost in my mind that I don’t hear the footsteps rushing up behind me. There’s no time to react before a heavy hand clamps around my neck and jerks my head down.
I see his shoes first—the expensive ones he’s been wearing into town lately—followed by his perfectly pressed, borrowed suit.
“I’m only going to ask you once.” My father’s voice is ice-cold and dripping with disdain. “What were you just doing with Patrick’s daughter?”
“Her name’s Penelope,” I grunt, struggling to free myself. “And I wasn’t doing anything.”
He shoves me away from him, hard enough that my feet slide through the gravel. Panicked, I look to the front drive where I spot Patrick’s vehicle, fearful that he’s coming for me, too.
Noticing my shifty stare he says,“Your mother’s keeping them preoccupied while I deal with you.”
“There’s nothing going on. I-I was just finishing some chores.”
With one hand pinching his brows, he says, “I knew that girl was trouble. Now I can’t trust you to be alone while I take care of business.”
The disgust in his tone makes me defensive. Like he doesn’t think Penelope is good enough. Like she’s a problem, when really, she’s everything.
“What are you talking about?” My heart thunders, desperate for him to believe me. Desperate for him to not take me away from her.
He jabs a finger at the barn behind me. “I wasn’t born yesterday, son. You think I don’t know what you two were up to in there? You’re lucky I caught you before Patrick did.”
The desire to rage against him is all-consuming, but I duck my chin to make myself appear small instead. Whatever I can do to lessen the swift punishment coming my way. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right,” he says grimly. “It won’t.”
Hot bile rushes up my throat as he informs me that I’m grounded for the remainder of the summer, and that I’m forbidden to see Penelope unless absolutely necessary.
“That’s not fair.” My fists clench as I struggle with the anger stinging the backs of my eyes. “That’s not fucking fair.”
He’s in my face in a matter of seconds, staring down his nose, practically daring me to say another word.
I’ve always admired my father’s tenacity—his ability to make a person bend, no matter how impossible the situation. But his outbursts and the threats he often relies on to get me to obey make me hate him.
“What’s not fair is how selfish you’re being.” He vibrates with a rage that colors his face and neck bright red. “Patrick and I found a company in Tauntuma willing to take a chance on our business. They’ve even offered a bonus that’s going to cover the cost of your education, but if you get her pregnant, none of that matters.”
“I don’t even want to go to Michigan,” I argue bravely. “I want to live my own life, not the one you’ve chosen for me.”
He stares at me long enough for sweat to bead along my brow. “You disappoint me.”
I swallow, trying to hold my ground, but my confidence weakens at those words, crumbling before I can repair it. “Dad…”
“Did you enjoy being poor, Logan?”
“That’s not—”
“Listening to your mother cry herself to sleep every night?”
Angry tears fill my eyes now. “No.”
“Then stop acting like a child when you’re grown enough to know better.” He points to the Vances’ home. “What do you think Patrick will do if he catches you with his daughter? Congratulate you for getting between her legs? And what’s worse, you’re risking everything I’ve sacrificed to get us here by sneaking around with her.”
My teeth grind, fists clenched at my sides, but I can’t chase away the fear that maybe he’s right. I’m not thinking straight, and I’m not putting our family first.
“We’re here because Patrick and Lucy were gracious enough to take in a few strays. But when this deal goes through, and it will, we’re going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams.”
I don’t give a fuck about riches when everything I need is in that house, showering upstairs, hopefully ignorant of what’s happening out here.
“I need you to focus on what’s at stake here, Logan. If you get us kicked off the property, and Patrick pulls out of this deal, we won’t survive.”
The visions of me and Penelope happy, in love, and free dissipate like smoke in the wind. When I glance up at the second-story window, I see the blinds wobbling. I know she’s watching. Just like I know she’ll watch me run my punishment laps around the pasture later, too.
As if I’ve stressed him beyond the point of waiting, he pulls a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lights the tip.
My skin itches with the urge to burn it. To cram the tip of that cigarette into my flesh and feel the piercing, nerve-searing pain.
Erase every thought.
Erase every sensation.
Until I feel nothing at all.