Chapter 18 #3
“Don’t worry about it.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, and it pushes me right to the edge. I’m teetering. “Concentrate on me.” Thrust. “On this.” Thrust.
I dig my heels into his ass. He dips his head and nibbles along my neck. Shivers rack my body, and that’s all I need. I fly over my peak into oblivion, soaring and floating in a way that’s only happened with him.
“Haven!” My voice carries through the valley.
“Fuck, yes.” He braces himself on his hands, like he’s watching me, and it makes the orgasm hit stronger and continue longer.
One of the horses whinnies, but I’m focused on him bucking inside me, his hot release filling me. When he collapses, I catch him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hooking my ankles around his waist.
He can throw me around like I’m no more than a bag of potatoes, and damn, it makes me feel dainty.
That’s not a normal sensation for me. I wouldn’t trade my height for anything.
I like reaching the top of the cabinets, grabbing canned goods for random strangers in the grocery store, and sitting farther away from the steering wheel.
Yet I didn’t realize the trade-off was feeling bulky with men—but not Haven.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he murmurs into my neck.
I pet his silky hair. Does he have a special product, or is everything about him the highest quality? “You mean other than how our fishing trip and horseback ride turned into a sex fest?”
He chuckles, his breath gusting across my skin and sending shivers rolling over me. “Unlike yesterday, we actually went horseback riding.”
I could keep my earlier thoughts to myself, but it doesn’t seem right around him.
I’ve been able to talk to Haven about stuff that would normally embarrass me.
Not that my height or size does. It’s just another thing that’s different with him than anyone else.
“I was thinking about how you make me feel petite.”
He lifts his head. “You never been thrown around, Red?”
“Uh, no.” I laugh. “Not picked up, or thrown, or carried.”
“I’d carry you back, but Biscuits gets a little distracted without a rider.”
“They’re a good match. Gravy gets distracted with a rider.”
He grins and props himself on an elbow. A cabbage moth flutters by, and the sound of insects buzzing grows louder now that we’re quieter. “This worked out better than I thought.”
“You make it sound like you’ve never taken a girl out on horseback just to get laid.”
He arches a brow. “I haven’t. Have you?”
“Before you took me out, I hadn’t ridden since I was a kid.” I gently push him away. He withdraws, and I roll to find my pants. “I could’ve told you it’d work. I suspect Papa did it a lot back in the day.”
“I don’t care to imagine that, nor can I promise that Biscuits and Gravy haven’t stood by while someone else had sex around them. They were both older when I got them.”
“The stories they could tell.”
I squirm into my pants without rolling all over the blanket, while he dresses and takes care of the condom with an empty baggie from the snacks he packed.
I’m about to get up when he plops down next to me. “We got time. Unless you need to rush off. ”
“I do have a busy life.” I sit with my legs crossed.
He smirks and stretches out on his stomach next to me. “I’m sucking up all your precious time.”
I treasure each minute with him. “Well, I have this guy’s birthday to plan. It’s coming up soon.”
He rests his head on his arms. “He probably doesn’t deserve it.”
I scowl at him, but his eyes are closed, and there’s a contented smile on his face. “I think he does, and he should know it.”
He cracks an eye open. “It’s just a birthday.”
I pluck a piece of grass from next to the blanket. The strand is crunched from us moving around, and I run it through my fingers. “My mom used to make them a big deal, and when I asked her why, she said it’s because I’m a big deal.”
“She’s right.”
“She would say that about you too.”
His lips form a troubled line. “Why?”
“Because she was like that. Wanted people to feel special because no one made her feel that way.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “What would she have done for my birthday?”
“What age are we talking?”
He flips to his back and folds his hands behind his head and crosses his feet. He’s a plank of sexy cowboy, and if we were in a private space instead of the wide-open pasture, we’d both probably be naked. “Does age matter?”
I scoff. “Oh, it matters. I got bouncy house parties and pool parties and arcade-slash-bowling parties when I was in elementary school. Then it turned into slumber parties with movies and spa nights. When I was a teen, she would call me out of school if my birthday was on a weekday. We’d get our nails done, go to lunch, and she’d take me shopping. ”
“Damn. What if it was a weekend?”
“That’s when she could really go big. One year, she took me to Disneyland.”
“For a birthday present?”
“My present that year was my first digital camera.” I let out a wistful sigh. “She took me to Disneyland so I could practice. Where else would I find people and characters and castles and fireworks? I took so many pictures.”
“She sounds like an amazing person.”
“She was.” I run the grass stem through my fingers. “I wish she had found her person. Someone who would’ve spent their life loving her and making her feel as special as she made everyone else feel. I tried, but it was important to her that I live my own life.”
I lie back and align my legs with his. The edges of the blanket rustle in the breeze. This is the closest to cuddling we’re going to get.
After a few minutes, he props himself on an elbow and faces me. He trails a finger from the middle of my sternum to my belly button and flattens his hand. A furrow creases his forehead, but he doesn’t speak right away. “Are you working Wednesday night?”
“Probably. Why? Got something in your tack room to inspect?”
“Yes, and it’s best to look at it without clothes.” He flashes me a grin. “No, Myles is coming out, and he’s bringing Mae.”
“Mae Bailey?” His foster mom?
“Yeah. Usually, when she comes, one of us will host a meal, and it’s my turn. I’ll open up the garage, and we’ll all gather. Do you… Do you wanna come? ”
I want to shout absolutely !, but I also want to forget he asked. “Is it a party?”
“Sort of. We just all get together.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me. Iverson and his family. Durban and Campbell. Lane and Cruz. Elodie will probably be there. Clem and Edna sometimes come too. Anyone associated with Foster House.”
A burn sets in the back of my throat. I’m not a part of that group. “I don’t know. I’d feel like a third wheel. I don’t really have much to do with the distillery.” Other than hooking up with one of its owners.
“If you take pictures for us, you’ll be part of the crew.”
“You haven’t gotten approval yet.” I didn’t truly expect him to ask.
“I will.” His answer rings with confidence.
“Before Wednesday?”
“If you need it before then.”
I could show up and be one of the Foster House gang. I’ve talked to Jamison and Campbell a little. Clem slightly more. But I don’t know any of them, and one crochet club doesn’t seem like enough not to make everyone think there’s something between me and Haven.
Is there? We’re supposed to be living in the moment, not planning family functions together. Will everyone get the wrong idea about us?
Will I?
Have I already? Am I harboring a hope built out of a fantasy?
Come on, Prescott. Make one smart decision around this guy and tell him no .
“I told Papa that I’d help him do a deep clean.” I’ll tell him tonight, anyway.
His expression shutters. “Oh, yeah. No problem. Just thought if you could make it, I’d throw it out there. You gonna go to Hookers and Booze on Monday?”
A huge boulder lands on my chest. The urge to tell him, no, it’s fine, I’ll be there, what can I bring? rests heavy on my tongue. But we’ve crossed so many lines already. If I’m not careful, I’ll fall off the edge.
Since I held strong for that, I’ll dig out the crochet bag I haven’t touched since the last Hookers and Booze. “Yes. I’m going.”