Chapter 24
Lucas
Every time she exhales, I take her in.
Hidden back at her parents’ house, I move over her mouth as I press her into the shower wall.
I can’t stop. Swallowing, tasting, inhaling, eating…
We should’ve returned to her place, but I wanted the big shower. And the big bed in the guestroom.
I bite her bottom lip, my dick rising with want again. It’s like I haven’t fucked in a decade.
Twenty-thousand breaths…
I’ve lost track of how many hours I have left of Hugo’s threat.
Grabbing her ass, I hear her whimper as I lift her up and guide her thighs around me.
The sun’s not up yet. When it’s light, I’ll deal with business. Until then…
I dip down and sink my teeth into her tender flesh, her nipple brushing my cheek.
“I need food,” she moans.
But then she presses on my shoulder to lift herself higher and feed me her nipple. I suck it into my mouth, tonguing it as the hot water sprays around us.
“God, what have I done?” I gasp.
Digging my fingers into her, I kiss a trail up her chest to her neck, her jaw, and then her mouth, sweating with need to be inside of her again.
Will her family forgive me if I tell them I love her?
Do I?
She trembles. “You only gave me what I was begging for,” she replies, reading my thoughts.
She leaves a feathery kiss on my cheek. Then another one higher.
“I could’ve entertained any other guy,” she teases, “but my brothers wouldn’t have wanted you to allow that. You saw your duty and did it yourself.”
I can’t hide my amusement, feeling her mouth spread, too, as she kisses mine. “Yeah, I have no doubt they’ll see it that way.”
Yeah, man. She needed it bad. It was either me or them. I took care of it.
But she fires back, “They will see it my way.” She leans in to my ear. “I once told you I’d choose someone my brothers liked.”
And that day at the summer camp when she was hiding in the rafters floods back in again.
My God.
I pull back, looking her dead in the eyes. “Oh, you little brat.”
I refuse to believe that she’s been planning this, but…
She knew she belonged to me that first, early morning in her bakery. Would it have been the same if I’d stayed eight years ago? Would I still have been as drawn to her—as possessive—being her friend and watching men want her when she became a woman?
We kiss once. Then again, gazing into each other’s eyes as we grind and breathe and touch.
Do I love her? Or is she just a place to hide?
I look into her beautiful face, I just want more. That’s all I’m sure of.
I think she does too. I know she said she just wanted me for her first time. To show her how to come with someone, but…
She searches my eyes, and I part my lips, both of us needing to say something. I want her to know that I don’t want anyone else.
Instead, we kiss again, both of us tightening our arms around each other and not counting the seconds and breaths that pass. What happens next? I can’t think right now.
I brush my mouth over hers. “I’ve never done it three times in one evening.”
“We’ve only done it twice.”
I take her hand and slide it down my body, pressing my hard cock into her palm.
Her chest fills with a breath as excitement lights up her face. “What does it feel like?” she asks. “Inside of it, I mean?”
Inside my dick?
I almost laugh. Questions, questions, questions… Will she ever exhaust her curiosity? I’d like to find out.
“What does it feel like inside of me?” she pants next against my mouth.
I don’t tell her with words. Slipping inside of her, I slide in and out, her slick heat wrapped around me so tightly my eyes fall closed and heaven spreads from my groin to the rest of my body.
I tell her with my face. The way my body quivers at how warm and greedy her body is.
She doesn’t stop me. Just tilts her head back and moans, rolling her hips in a rhythm that matches mine.
“What do we do if my parents come home?” she whimpers.
But I kiss her mouth and her forehead. “Shhh.” I tremble. “Enough questions.”
I’m guessing I only have about thirteen-thousand breaths left.
Every one of them is for her.
Hours later, I let her peel herself away to go to Frosted. I was tempted to hide away with her all day, but more than anything, I need to make her safe.
I get busy, putting my affairs in order in case shit goes down tonight.
My father’s dress coat, cap, and framed picture sit in a single box by themselves. I close the lid and slide it into a corner in one of Madoc’s storerooms in his basement.
I restack boxes he already had here on top of it and back away, dusting off my hands on my pants.
My stomach aches with hunger, but visions of carrying her to bed just two hours ago—not to sleep—already make my body miss her more than food. Poor thing didn’t get any rest before she had to run off to work.
Backing out of the room, I take a picture in my brain, shut off the light, and close the door. If I tell Madoc the truth—and the police—I need to deliver Drew. It’s time to lure him out.
I release the handle, memorizing the smooth feel of the knob.
Who will open this room next? Kade? Fallon?
Maybe the door won’t be opened again for a year.
I can’t imagine they need to sift through old suitcases and yearbooks very often.
But at least my father’s things are safe and with people I love.
I head down the hall, past Madoc’s liquor storage and a bathroom, coming into the main room of the basement.
Spinning in a slow circle, I take in the leather couch, the bar long enough for ten stools, and the piano.
This was where Madoc taught me to play pool when I was fourteen.
Where I helped Fallon build a haunted house for Halloween for the kids when they were little.
This was where I got drunk for the first time.
I still don’t think Madoc knows about that.
I don’t know why I feel like I’m saying goodbye, but throughout my life, I’ve been in rooms I’ll never walk into again.
I’ve seen people whose paths I’ll never recross.
There are movies I’ve watched for the last time and songs I’ll never hear again and foods that life will never give me a chance to retry.
Someday, I’m going to talk to Madoc, and I won’t even realize it’ll be the last time. Maybe today is that day.
Hands trembling, I spin in another slow circle, hearing the music in my memory and feeling the cold can of beer on my mouth from that one summer night ten years ago when I thought life could never get any better.
I felt the worst I’ve ever felt in my life in this town. And I’ve also felt the best. Fuck, I love them.
Leaving the empty house—Madoc and Fallon at work and the kids at camp—I roll down the windows in Jared’s car and drive. My heart rises into my throat the farther I race away from the house.
Whistles from people’s remaining fireworks continue to pierce the air of the otherwise quiet, summer day. Businesses bustle with activity, JT Racing has both bay doors open as they move vehicles in and out, and the public pool swarms with families trying to find some relief in the heat.
What would I be doing today if I didn’t have to worry about Hugo Navarre or Drew Reeves?
I crack a brief grin, seeing myself helping Jax at Fallstown, or Juliet up at the camp, or working on Quinn’s new house.
There’s so much to do. The floors need to be leveled and the drywall repaired, but I know as soon as I opened the walls, I’d see electrical and plumbing that needed repairing first. Maybe Madoc would be helping me?
And Lance? Beers and laughs and friends.
Climbing up Lake Lane, I spot a car parked at the end of a dirt driveway, a For Sale sign taped to the windshield. Hitting the brakes, I stop and put my arm over the back of the seat, looking behind me as I reverse the car.
Jeep Wrangler. Maybe an ’06 or ’07. Older than I’d like, but a lot cheaper than a new car. She wouldn’t throw a fit at me spending the money on her. Hopefully.
It’s white and has a soft-top with a little rust, but brand new tires from the looks of it. Seven thousand or best offer.
Shifting the Boss into gear, I punch the gas and race off, away from town.
Heat radiates off the pavement, making the air smell like tar and hot leather, but I don’t bother turning on the AC because the wind feels too good.
For one more minute, I enjoy the idea of just grabbing Quinn and jetting off.
Out of town for the rest of the day, somewhere I don’t have to be on guard and or worried anyone will see us.
But soon enough, I see the Do Not Enter sign to the left.
It’s an exit for the drivers traveling a parallel highway on the other side of the trees.
They use it to merge onto my highway, into the opposing lane.
I jerk the wheel left, the lump swelling in my throat.
A car could pop up anytime, heading straight for me, but I take a quick right, down the overgrown, gravel trail, barely big enough for a car.
It doesn’t take long. Branches hit the windows as Farrow’s truck appears ahead, parked. I pull up behind it.
Getting out, I look up at the black stone of the train tunnel as it emerges from rock, nothing but the sounds of the distant falls and the wind in the trees around me.
Farrow leans against it, smoking a cigarette, but I don’t walk to him. Dropping my gaze, I find the lone, rounded gray stone at the bottom of the wall instead. It’s a little lighter in color and surrounded by other stones and mortar.
My stomach sinks, looking down at the soil. Flat with weeds like any other patch of land.
“Were you able to arrange the burial?” I ask.
Farrow falls in at my side. “Not a problem.”
I reach for the shovel in his hand, seeing the canvas bag I’d asked for on the ground. “Thank you.”
But he sweeps the shovel up in both hands and jams it into the soil.
“What are you doing?”
He shakes his head. “Rest assured, it’s not my first.”
No. I yank the tool away from him.
“I can do this,” he grits out.