Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
HARRY
L ou is out cold. One side of her face squished against the window, each breath coming steady and shallow. I roll the old truck into the ranch, pulling up by the house. She doesn’t wake when I kill the engine, and I sit there for a moment, taking her in. I thought I knew what I wanted when we were young. But the woman she is today, and what lies between us now, makes the first go we had at this seem like nothing more than puppy love.
I glance to the darkened house.
No lights on.
Ma isn’t here anymore, keepin’ the home fires burnin’ while I’m away. It pangs like it has permission. My breaths shorten, and I shift my focus back to Lou. I can only imagine my misery if she wasn’t here with me at this time. I can’t say I’d be strong enough to move forward.
I am eternally grateful I will never have to find out. Shaking myself from the reverie, I pop the driver’s door open and round the truck. Slowly, I crack Lou’s door open. She murmurs something incoherent and rolls away from the door as it moves, opening wider.
“Come on, darlin’.”
I pick her up and carry her to the house. She curls into my chest.
“Harry?” My name is a mumbled whisper.
“Yeah, Lou?”
“We home?”
“Sure are.” I step onto the front porch and turn to the side, awkwardly grabbing for the handle with one hand while still carrying her. She sucks in a waking breath and opens her eyes. I stand still before the threshold as the door swings open, knocking against the wall.
Lou glances between me and the doorway. “Put me down, please, Harry.”
Something like regret seeps through with each word.
Puttin’ her down is the last thing I wanna do right now. She wriggles in my hold, and I relent, her feet meeting the porch. Her arms slide around my neck, and I dip my forehead to hers as she tries and fails to stifle a yawn.
“You can carry me over that threshold on a different day, Harry Rawlins. Not this one.”
“If you say so, Captain.”
She gives me a quizzical look before dotting a kiss on my lips briefly as she turns away and glides over the imaginary line. It’s all I can do to watch her go. Into her home.
Our home.
And hell, if she doesn’t belong here, all is not right with the world.
Lou looks over her shoulder, her gait slowing en route to the kitchen. “You coming inside?”
Damn straight, woman.
She hits the lights and puts the kettle on, puttering around the kitchen as I hover in my own house like a fool, struck. It’s then I remember her bag. I wander outside into the cool, dark night and tug it from the tray of the truck.
On my way back, I stop by the old willow in front of the house. Its curtain of green waves gently in the breeze, its soft hissing mesmerizing me where I stand. The stars overhead shine like I swear they never have before.
The whistle of the kettle pulls me from the ethereal state. Through the front windows by the dining table, I see Lou. She plucks an overhead cupboard open, taking out two mugs. The door creaks as it falls open when she tries to close it. I make mental note to fix the kitchen as soon as I can.
Walking back inside, I find her sitting on the old counter, mugs of tea on the surface, waitin’. I close in on her and drop the bag at the foot of the counter. She leans back, head tilting to the side as she glances to the mug at her left.
Mine.
“You look tired, Lou.”
She picks up her tea and blows into the steam before taking a cautious sip. “Hmm, I’m okay.”
She passes me the mug left, and I take it. The heat of the tea descends all the way to my stomach. Lou puts hers down before tapping the counter.
“Before I forget.” She claims my hand, pulling me toward her. I nestle between her legs as she says, “Thanks for the lift.”
Her green eyes study my face. With every inch they take in, they darken further. Her lips part as her hands take my jaw and slide down my neck.
“Wasn’t a lift, Louisa May. I was bringing you home. There’s no goin’ back.”
“Good,” she breathes.
Ain’t no need to tell this man twice.
I slam my mouth over hers, tugging her forward on the counter with a rough hold. She opens for me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I take what she offers up. Fine hands tug at my work shirt. I lean away from the counter as she pulls the shirt up and off. It’s barely hit the floor before she starts on my leather belt.
I close a hand over hers and she pulls away, breathless.
Lips swollen, chest heavin’, she stares at me.
I can’t help the way one corner of my mouth pulls up at seein’ her like this. For me.
Hell, it’s all I’ve thought about for the last ten damn years.
“Har—”
“We haven’t talked about this, Lou.”
“What do you mean?”
“How we gonna do this. Plans, you know.”
Her brows lower for a moment before her mouth pops open a little. “Okay, well, I’m on birth control. Living in Cali, it was... a prerequisite, I guess.”
My gaze flicks up to hers.
A prerequisite...
For her to...
Heat floods my center, spilling over into my veins.
So other men could?—
Her hands claim my jaw as it feathers. I’m not as naive to think she’s never been with a man before, but thinkin’ about her, tangled around someone else. Someone not me. My mind is short-circuitin’. My hands grip the counter either side of her.
“My love”—Louisa directs my face up so I’m looking right at her—“the only thing that matters anymore, and right now, is you and me. You hear?” Her face is stern.
My love.
A stone explodes into my throat.
Lord above, I’m an idiot on legs over this woman. And I am going make sure I’m the last man she will say those two words to.
Ever.
“Loud and clear.”
The sweetest smile blooms over her face. “So, still wanna talk?”
“Nope.”
I snatch her off the bench, pulling her onto my waist. She giggles, her body pressing into me. That’s all it takes to get me rock-hard.
“Help me unpack?” she asks.
“Now?” I growl.
“I can’t very well sleep in Rosie’s room. And your sofa is kind of terrible.”
I see where this is going as I rub my jaw with a huffy laugh. “You realize that only leaves one bed, Louisa May.”
“Does it?” she says, feigning innocence. She slips down to her feet and steps back, mirth lighting up her stunning greens.
“Yup.”
“In that case, I guess you will have to be the ultimate gentleman, since we’re not?—”
I grab for her and smash my mouth to hers. With the tea cold and long forgotten, I walk her backward toward the hallway, real slow, as I deepen the kiss. Her hands wander through my hair, and lord above if that ain’t one of my favorite places for her hands to be.
Breaking the kiss, Lou takes my hand, leading me to the master bedroom. She stops short in the doorway. “You sure about this, Harry? About us?” Green eyes, worried, connect with mine. I wish to hell she would stop second-guessing every decision she makes.
“Woman, I swear to god.”
“Well, if you swear, and to...” She points upward. Cheek lights up her not-so-tired-anymore face. “Oh! My bag, I need it.”
I slide back down the hallway in my socks and pluck up the overnighter. When I get back, Lou is sitting on her side of our bed.
Our bed.
Fuck, I like the way that sounds.
I hand her the duffle bag that should be an overnighter, not an all my life’s possessions bag. She needs roots, this woman of mine. I fully intend on giving her them. Along with anything else she asks for.
She places it beside her and pulls out a small pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. The thought of her wearin’ those around this old house has me harder.
Dumping out her clothes, she organizes them into the dresser by the window, shifting my clothes aside. The moment really sinks in.
“All unpacked.” She turns back to the sleepwear she left of the bed. No panties.
I collect the bag from the bed, but there’s something solid and heavy left in the bottom. “Forgot something.”
I widen the handles, peering inside.
A blush claims Lou’s face as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. A shy, breathy huff leaves her lips as she grabs for it.
She misses.
Now I have to know what’s in here.
I swing the bag away from her and leap to the other side of the bed.
“Harry!”
She crawls over the bed. Fuckin’ crawls . Hair draped over her shoulders, breasts swelling over her top. Arms held out, she grabs for the bag a second time.
I turn my back on her and pluck out the hard item.
“Oh my god,” she whines against my back, hands now gripping my biceps. Her forehead meets my spine as a little moan slips through her lips.
The hell?
A plastic cock-shaped object is in my hand. Hell’s hounds, I have seen it all now. I hold it up, inspecting the vein-covered plastic implement.
Sweet Jesus.
Louisa tries to grab it, coming around my side. “They are everywhere in Cali. Women have needs, too, Rawlins. This is not the Dark Ages.”
This is what she uses when she needs release? Fuck.
With a heady chuckle, I coax her to standing in front of me.
“Grant a dyin’ man his last wish.”
“ That has you dyin’?” She chuckles and slowly brings herself to look at me.
“Fuck yes, I wanna watch you do that. See your sweet pussy swallow this thing whole.”
“I—” She seems out of breath. “You have to do it, I can’t. Not with you lookin’ at me like...”
I toss the bag to the floor and maneuver her to the bed. She sits as I come to stand between her legs, punching the small power button. The vibrator hums to life, and Lou shakes her head as if fighting the blush that’s deepened and consumed her face. My body is alive with tension as I send the tip of the vibrator brushing over her nipple.
She arches where she sits, like an addict after a fresh hit.
“Sweet Jesus,” I rasp, sending the tip across to the other nipple.
What a way to spend our first night here.
Nothin’ will ever get this man more riled up than the sweet, small sounds outta this woman’s mouth. As I run the plastic gizmo over her stomach and let it drop between her legs, she gives me one of those pretty sounds.
Her legs widen automatically, eyes falling shut as her head drops back. Bracing with her hands, she leans back, her perfect damn tits pushing toward me. Like the desperate man I am for her, I dive right in, needin’ every tiny morsel she will give up.
I rip the bodice of her top down, exposing her sweet flesh. My belt half undone, my chest bare, I lean down, claiming a pert nipple between my teeth. Nothin’ will ever taste as sweet as my Louisa May.
“Plea—” She writhes under my touch, center circling against the buzzing instrument still in my hand. “Off. Take them off...”
Dropping the vibrator, I rip the material from her shoulders. She doesn’t protest as I tear the flimsy material clean away from her body. The white lacy bra I find underneath sends the last of my blood roaring south.
Lou braces further back, lifting her hips. “Off!”
Yes, ma’am.
I thumb the soaked strip of material between her legs. A soft whimper tumbles from those pretty, kiss-swollen lips.
“Woman, you are a sight for sore eyes. So fuckin’ wet.”
Her hips wriggle impatiently.
I slide the panties down her long legs, nice and slow. The way I’ve wanted to for as long as I can remember. It’s better than I imagined. The soft material under my calloused hands, her silky skin sliding past my knuckles as I lower the white satin.
Laid bare for me, she is more than I deserve.
She’s stunning.
Drippin’ wet... for me.
Mine .
“Up.” I jerk my chin up, indicating up the bed. She moves backward, her eyes never leavin’ me. I swipe up the vibrator. With my cock straining against my pants, I kneel between her legs. “This is what gives you what you need, Louisa?”
I press the trembling plastic into her clit.
“Ye—Yes, mostly.”
That changes now.
I snap my eyes to her wet center. Her fingers grip handfuls of bunched-up duvet. I move the vibrator south, letting it sit at her entrance.
Nothing has ever felt more wrong.
This cold thing’s been inside her.
I tug at my belt, sliding it from the loops, and toss it to the floor. Shoving my zipper down, I hold the vibrating wand still as I tug my jeans past my hips, taking my boxers down with them. My painfully hard cock springs free.
Lou’s lips part, her breathing picking up pace.
Atta girl.
“Harry, I can’t.”
“I’ll just have to warm you up first.”
I sweep the vibrator past her clit before letting it sink into her glistening pussy. She arches, those perfect fuckin’ tits bouncing as she moves with a choppy rhythm.
Fu-uck.
My cock leaks at the sight.
My last thread of control snaps.
Tugging the vibrator back, I throw it on the bed.
With a bruising hold, I grip her hips and turn her over. Lou scurries toward the headboard on her knees.
I close in on her and fist her hair, and she turns her head back. Eyes wild, she spreads her legs. Each choppy breath she takes hits my face before I claim her mouth.
Ten fuckin’ years.
That’s how long my damn patience is.
And it just wore out.
“I ain’t askin, Lou.”
I nudge her entrance as she nods with short, quick movements, her strung-out little moans the only audible noise leaving her lips.
I slam up into her.
Back arching, pressed into the wall, she cries out. Her hand finds mine at her hip, fine fingers squeezing my rough hold.
Her heat swallows me whole.
My chest caves.
I pull out in one long, agonizing stroke.