Chapter 22
ROWE
Dear Rowe,
I kept a copy of the picture, don’t worry. At the risk of sounding like a total sucker, I used to carry it around with me. I’ve stayed a few nights in the bunkhouse, and Otis has given me my own space for when I’m not feeling up to going home. I keep the picture tacked up on the wall.
Whatever happened wasn’t bad enough for you to get hurt, right? I didn’t hear anything from your parents, but I don’t know how anything works in prison. Maybe they don’t contact family over small injuries. Still, can you just let me know you really are okay?
I told Ash that you’ve been making plans and he told me to demand you write him back instead. Have you not been sending him letters? If you want, you can just write two and put them into the same envelope and I can give him his that way.
It’s Halloween tomorrow. Maybe you already know that . . . I don’t know how the days work in there. Do you remember when the five of us dressed up like the Scooby gang? Those were the days.
I miss you, Rowe. We all do. Try not to get into any more fights. Our letters are the only things keeping me going right now, and I don’t want to go so long without them again.
Tilly x
It would be a bad idea to put my hand on her thigh.
I debate doing it anyway. It’s fucking impossible not to think about it when she’s sitting in the passenger seat of my truck with those tight jeans wrapped around a thigh that won’t stop bouncing. She’s been fidgeting since we left the motel, and it hasn’t helped my insistent need to do the same.
Before I went away, I didn’t know what I felt when it came to her. We were the same age, but she was completely off limits. My friendship with her brother was too strong to consider ruining over chasing a girl who would have eaten me alive.
Things began to really change when I was in prison, and they’re still evolving now.
It’s worse with her here now than it ever was when I was locked up, waiting for one of her letters to arrive.
She’s a grown-ass fucking woman, and I’m not the same kid who didn’t know where to draw the line between protectiveness and desire.
I knew she’d be the type of woman to make a man bow at her feet and beg for attention, but I was too fucking blind to see that I was staring at my own future.
“Is that a lake?” she asks, twisting to get closer to the window. “A midnight swim would be fun.”
Leaning forward, I look past her head at the dark water up ahead.
The moonlight isn’t nearly bright enough to illuminate the area.
My truck’s headlights flare out across the highway and into the ditch, but I can’t be completely sure if there’s a turnoff to get where she’s talking about without getting closer.
“It looks like water.”
“Pull off. I want to see.”
“If there’s no real entrance, it’s probably for a reason. You’ll get leeches stuck to your feet if you go in that water.”
“Don’t be such a worrywart. Come on. It wouldn’t be the first time we had to burn leeches off each other.”
I’ve flicked the blinker on and pressed the brake without realizing it.
Tilly claps, returning her gaze out the window.
What she spotted is definitely a lake, but I’m not sure the true size or state of it.
With the colour of the water, I don’t think it’s dirty, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s safe.
Especially not at night where I can’t get a good look.
“You’re not still scared of them, then?” I ask, then swallow to clear the gruffness from my voice.
“I haven’t been since I was sixteen. And nobody could blame me for not liking them back then! Ash threw one at me, and it stuck to my shoulder.”
“Oh, I remember. You screamed until you were blue in the face.”
“And then you tried to burn it off but ended up melting the strap of my favourite bathing suit instead.”
“Don’t put that on me. You were wiggling like a fucking snake in the grass,” I grunt, pulling carefully onto a narrow dirt road.
“Well, yeah. I just hit puberty, and you were touching my bare back with your sweaty, grubby hands.”
“They weren’t sweaty.”
She chokes on a laugh and reaches across the console to take my hand from the wheel. I swallow my tongue when she twists my wrist and runs a hand down a line on my palm. Any second now, she’ll drop it. She’ll let it go, and I’ll put it back on the wheel like nothing happened.
Only, she doesn’t let it go. Tracing another line, she stares at the calloused backs of each finger and says, “Yeah they were. It got worse when I touched them. Apparently, that hasn’t changed.”
“Don’t get cocky,” I say lowly.
Her mouth quirks. “Me? As if.”
I make no move to take my hand from her hold. With my other, I turn the steering wheel slightly to the left, following the rough road through the trees until I decide to stop, too aware of the trailer I’m hauling.
“I can’t get much further than this without getting stuck or rocking the horses around too much.”
“Here’s fine. Come on,” she rushes out before shoving her door open. “Unless you’re the one afraid of wormy toes.”
I use the hand she releases to turn off the truck. “Take the head start I’m offering, hellcat.”
She’s gone in a flash. The door slams shut behind her, and I watch her run.
She spreads her arms wide to gain balance on the rough terrain, and I can hear her laugh from here.
Her hair isn’t braided back tonight, so when she starts down a hill and pulls her messy updo out, I clench the wheel and watch the long waves cascade down her back.
The moment she’s out of sight, I exit the truck and follow.
There’s not a chance anyone else will be able to come down here with how I’m parked right in the middle of the road and how late it is.
Thank fuck for that. Knowing Tilly, I’m not going to want anyone to see her in approximately two minutes.
“Hurry up!” she shouts from the bottom of the hill I’m approaching.
It’s steep, clearly not intended for easy access. There’s no sign of maintenance having been done here, and that only confirms every thought I’ve had since she spotted the lake. It’s private, secret, despite being so obvious.
My boot catches on a rock when I catch a glimpse of her at the water’s edge. I grab the trunk of the closest tree, dragging my palm down the rough bark and ignoring the resulting burn.
She’s so far beyond human comprehension. The regular standards of beauty that we have shoved down our throats every day have got to make her feel insulted. There’s no comparison between her and any other person on Earth.
The moonlight bounces off her skin like a spotlight amongst the darkness around us.
She doesn’t bother with looking around for intruders or an unsuspecting animal waiting to take a bite out of her.
Her arms fold across her stomach in an X before she grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head.
I curl my nails into the bark, peeling a chunk off.
Tilly drops the black fabric to the ground, not giving a shit if it gets dirty, before reaching for her belt.
The pale skin of her chest is highlighted by the deep red shade of her bra.
It’s pure lace, the cups thin and not doing a thing to hide the protruding bumps beneath them.
I rip my gaze upward and heave in a breath.
“Are you just going to stare there and watch like a Peeping Tom, or are you joining me?” she asks slyly, successfully unbuckling her belt.
“It’s going to be cold as shit.”
My argument is weak. I’m one word away from throwing myself across the space between us. The minx knows it too. The crinkled skin at the corners of her eyes encourages me to move. I release the tree and take slow steps down the hill.
She grins coyly at me and shimmies out of her jeans.
They pool around her boots, and then she kicks them beside her shirt.
My vision crosses at the sight of her in front of me in nothing more than her matching bra and panties and the fucking brown boots I’m tempted to tell her to keep on, water be damned.
Her hair sweeps back and forth behind her. My fingers itch to bundle it up and pull. Would she whine for me to let go or to pull harder? Is that what she likes, or if it isn’t, what does make her go as weak in the knees as I feel right now?
“I’m waiting, cowboy,” she taunts, grabbing her hips.
My control is in tatters. That’s the only explanation I have for why I unbutton my shirt for the second time tonight and discard it beside her jeans. Keeping my eyes lowered, I take care of my own belt and unzip my jeans.
Her voice beckons me closer, and I follow, stepping forward. “This isn’t very striptease-like.”
“Your show was earlier.”
“That wasn’t a show. It was a punishment.”
I look up, eyes so hot I feel their sear in my head. “I wasn’t punishing you.”
“Prove it.”
“How?” I ask, snapping harder than I meant to.
She bends forward and removes her first boot, then flicks her eyes up and does the same with the second. I dig my teeth into my cheek when her tits pool over the cups of her bra.
“Show me more than I saw in the motel.”
With a rough shove, I have my jeans bunched at my knees. My boots and socks are next, dropping to the dirt beside hers with a lot less fucking care. Her breath skips so audibly I can hear it. I rip my jeans the rest of the way off and stalk toward her.
She’s fast. With every forward step I take, she’s moved back two. Her feet splash in the water, and her lips pop open. There’s no stopping me now that she’s pushed me too far. I want to touch her, and the water isn’t going to save her from that.
“You’re playing with fire, hellcat,” I warn, joining her in the water.
The cold bites at my ankles, then my thighs, the further I chase her. She’s panting despite the temperature, and that makes it ten times worse. We’re getting closer and closer, and then she suddenly stops. The water is still around us, lapping softly at her shoulders.
Her voice is tight, strained when she speaks. “I prefer fire to ice.”
“Only because you’ve never truly felt it. Not the proper way.”
She leans forward, and I take her tiny waist into my hand.
The cool water wars against the heat between us, teasing the rise of steam.
The black in her eyes swells, beckoning me.
Every warning I’ve ever told myself is slipping from my consciousness.
I lower my head and inhale, trying to remind myself where we are with the smell of nature, but it’s her perfume I find instead.
“Are you waiting for me to ask for it, Rowe?” she rasps, head tipping back.
Her hair floats in the water, sleek and dripping wet, before I do what I’ve been wanting to and gather it between my fingers and lift. Drips of water curl down my arm and chest as I bring my hand to her nape and tighten my grip.
Lashes fluttering, she wets her lips and lifts her leg. It coils around my hip and pulls me toward her, our middles becoming flush. My nostrils flare from the close proximity, and I hold myself still, knowing one wrong move will have her feeling more than I anticipated.
“What exactly should I be waiting for you to ask for, Tilly? We can’t be doing this. It’s not fair.”
“Then why aren’t you moving away? Why did you follow me into the lake instead of staying behind?”
The heel of her foot digs into my ass, pulling a groan from the pits of my chest. It spills between us, and she does it again, this time subtly rubbing her tits against my chest like she’s read every fucking filthy thought I’ve been having about them and approves.
“Do you think a hate fuck is going to change what happened between us?” I grate out, pissed off that I can’t remove myself from her intricate web.
“I never said anything about fucking, but do you really think it wouldn’t help? Not even a little?”
“You were married.”
That makes her pause. The teasing movements stall, but she doesn’t pull back like I expect her to.
“I was. And you told me that I wasn’t anything special and that my feelings were na?ve.”
“Those things aren’t equal.” And I didn’t word it like that. Not exactly.
Her arms fold around my neck, fingernails crawling across my skin. “Is that what you want, then? To hurt me as badly as I hurt you?”
“No. I’d rather neither of us be hurt. That’s not our reality.”
She stares at me for a silent moment, her eyes flicking between mine, searching. “What do you want to know about my marriage? You have questions.”
“I don’t want to talk about your ex-husband while I’m touching you like this.”
“Like what?” she murmurs.
Her second leg finds its way around my hip, and I’m forced to grab her with both hands to hold her in place. My grip on her hair turns punishing while I palm her ass, filling my hand with soft skin and rough lace.
“Like I’m one more teasing little comment from trying forget about your brother long enough to have you screaming my name.
” I shove the words out of my mouth and haul her higher up my body.
Her pathetically thin panties do nothing to create a boundary between us as her cunt glides up my brief-clad dick.
The soft little noise she makes shoots down to my balls.
“Stop fucking tempting me, Tilly. I don’t have the patience for your games anymore. ”
Her hold on me grows frantic, and the nails once gliding softly claw into my shoulders. “We’re not kids. Ash isn’t some protective knight set on protecting his damsel sister. He won’t care.”
“He doesn’t know everything. It isn’t fair to him to do this.”
“Then why are you rubbing against me like this?” she asks, breathless.
I look between us and feel the burn in my biceps from the way I’m moving her up and down my body. Her legs are squeezed tight around me in approval while I drag her against my cock, connecting us in a way I’ve never dared do before.
“Fuck. Push me away.”
She tries to shake her head, but I’m pulling her hair too tightly. “No.”
“Tilly,” I hiss, my hand shifting beneath the red lace on her ass.
“Kiss me.”
Her lips are suddenly right there. Her breath tastes like the fruit snacks she hid in my truck earlier, and I butt my nose against hers, not caring how rough I’m being.
“I can’t,” I say on a groan.
Blazing green eyes are the last things I see before she fixes the problem, kissing me.