Wild and Wrangled

Chapter 30 Cam

Chapter 30

Cam

When Dusty and I grabbed our coats and ran out the gala doors, we were met with a wall of falling snow. The flakes were huge, and I could barely see in front of me. There were at least six inches piled up in the parking lot. Dusty pulled me closer to him and used the arm around my waist to lift me into a fireman’s carry.

“Those shoes you’re wearing won’t make it through the snow,” he said. I let my head fall back with a laugh, and my feet kicked involuntarily.

I tried to look forward, but the snow got in my face, so I looked up at Dusty instead. I looked at his sharp jawline, and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. I wanted to memorize how he looked right now—this close to me. I used one of my hands to push down the white collar of his tux so I could see the entirety of his “A” tattoo. I pulled myself closer to him so I could kiss it again.

“Ash,” Dusty breathed when I did.

“I forgot how much I loved this,” I said as I kissed it again. Dusty groaned, and I watched his jaw flex.

“I didn’t,” he said. He managed to keep hold of me as he reached into his pocket and grabbed the keys to my car. I heard it unlock. I reached out to open the door, and when I did, Dusty set me carefully inside.

“You have four-wheel drive, right?” Dusty asked. One of his hands was on my hip, and the other was on the side of my neck.

“Obviously,” I responded. “We live in Wyoming.”

“Smartass,” he said and then kissed me quickly—like he would do it a million more times. It felt so natural, but the effect it had on me was anything but.

I brought my hands up to his suit jacket and held him to me for a second. He let me. He didn’t ask me why—just stood in the snow while I sat in the car and let me breathe him in—let me imprint this moment in my brain. When I let him go, he flashed me a smile. “Put your seatbelt on, angel.”

Whatever bubble we were in right now, I didn’t want it to pop.

Then he pulled back and shut my door softly. I did what he said. When he got in the car and started it, he reached over and turned my seat warmer on for me before grabbing the snow brush out of the backseat and getting back out to clear the car off.

I watched him through the windows as he cleared them. I didn’t know if anyone else had ever cleared my car off for me. I had gotten used to doing it myself—just like everything else. For a second, it scared me, how easy it would be to get used to this—to have someone turn my seat warmer on and clear off my car, who could drive when I didn’t want to.

Did I want that? I always thought that if I could take care of myself and my daughter, if I never had to depend on anyone, then I’d never run the risk of disappointing anyone, either. I was sick of feeling like such a disappointment, at least in the eyes of my parents. But I had to admit: It made me feel extremely lonely sometimes. What if there was a different way? A way that allowed me to share the load, to give up full control every once in a while?

When Dusty got back in the car, he shook the snow out of his hair and rubbed his hands together before grabbing one of mine. The two silver rings on his hand were ice cold, and I loved the way they felt against my skin.

“Ready?” he asked, and I nodded—grateful again that he was here. I hated driving in the snow. I should probably be used to it after all this time, but it still scared the shit out of me. But when I looked at Dusty, he was calm and in control of the car.

“Can you check the weather alerts for the highway?” he asked. “Honestly, I would be shocked if the canyon isn’t closed.”

“I think we should just get a hotel,” I said. “Even if the canyon is open, I don’t think it’s safe to go all the way home tonight.” I pulled out my phone and searched for hotels nearby. “Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.” I kept scrolling as Dusty started driving closer to town. There wasn’t anything around the ski resort, and it would probably take us at least thirty minutes to get farther down the mountain toward some sort of civilization.

“What have we got?”

“No dice so far.” I let out a sigh. “There don’t seem to be any good options.”

“Have you tried, you know, just looking out the window for a neon vacancy sign through the snow?”

I actually laughed out loud at that. “Yeah, no,” I said. “That’s not for me.” Neon signs did not usually match up with my preference for crisp white bedsheets and fluffy robes.

Dusty chuckled and shook his head. “You know…there’s a motel like ten minutes up the road. I bet we might have some luck there.”

I groaned but when I looked up from my phone and saw what the road ahead of us looked like—a total whiteout—I relented: “Okay.”

“I promise it’s not bad,” Dusty said. “Probably one of the nicer places I’ve stayed in my life.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fussy like me,” I said.

“I don’t think you’re fussy,” Dusty responded. “You know what you like and you have preferences.”

“So you don’t think I’m a snob?” I asked.

Dusty shot me a quick grin before his eyes were back on the road. “I didn’t say that,” he said. “But I just happen to like your version of snobbery, I guess.”

He seemed to be chewing on something in thought before he spoke again.

“Speaking of snobs…what was the deal with your parents tonight?” Dusty asked. “They were trying to set you up? I mean, clearly they were not happy to see me, but to try to show you off like you’re some sort of piece of meat in the marriage mart seems a little old school…even for them.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. My go-to answer for anything and everything having to do with my parents.

“No,” Dusty responded immediately. He sounded more frustrated than he did a second ago. “We’re not doing that anymore. I need you to talk about it. I need you to talk to me. ” His voice cracked, and I felt like I was two feet tall.

I took a deep breath. At least he was driving, so I didn’t have to look at his face. Maybe it was time for me to talk about this—and talking to Dusty seemed to be easier than talking to anyone else. “A couple of years ago, I was thinking about what I wanted for Riley and her future, and I met Graham pretty soon after that. We had a lot in common when it came to our parents—they weren’t very present in our lives, but they tried to be very present in our decisions. We didn’t, um, click…romantically, but when we went to this event together that both of our parents were at, they were thrilled. As soon as my dad saw me with Graham, I think wheels started turning about how this could benefit him. Graham said the same thing about his dad.

“And both of us had the stipulation of parental approval for partners in our…um, trust funds. So we just kind of fell into this weird relationship where we both knew we were using each other, but we were okay with it, because it was the first time either of us had gotten any peace from our parents.” After our confrontation at the gala, though, I was realizing that I created a lot of the noise that I felt around my parents. Everything I did was informed by my efforts to avoid their disappointment or criticism. If I could stay close enough to the lines of what they deemed appropriate, they’d leave me alone. I could keep them at a safe distance. And if I did something they actually wanted, like align myself with a suitable man who could benefit their financial future, I thought I’d get even more than that—I thought I might be able to finally make them happy. Maybe I could replace all of their disappointment with something better. But, of course, I should have known: I’d never actually be able to make them happy. So when Graham brought up getting married, it seemed like a good idea. And I decided to seize the opportunity to ensure some sort of inheritance from them for Riley—more than enough money for college and a nice nest egg.”

I glanced at Dusty’s hands on the steering wheel out of the corner of my eye—they clenched the wheel harder.

“So we got engaged. Things were fine. Both of us felt…okay. Maybe not happy, but content, at least.”

“But he called off the wedding.”

“He met someone,” I whispered. Someone who made him realize that the chance at a full life was worth more than a guarantee of a half one.

“So you were going to get married to someone you didn’t love so your daughter could have some money?” Dusty asked. His tone was sharp, and it cut me.

He made it sound so simple, but it wasn’t. “You wouldn’t get it,” I said defensively.

“Explain it to me then,” he said. “Because, you’re right, I really don’t get it. It’s not like you’re Riley’s only parent. It’s not like Gus doesn’t have money. I get that the Ryders don’t have Ashwood money, but they’re stable. Riley was always going to be taken care of because of that.” Dusty turned off the highway.

“I wanted to take care of her, too,” I said. “And I didn’t have anything then. I decided to put law school on hold for a while when I got pregnant, and then for the first few years after Riley was born, I needed to focus on learning how to be a mom. So I just…I didn’t want to be a burden to the Ryders. I felt insecure about the fact that I had just gotten plopped into this family that cared for me right away; I was…just preparing for when the other boot would drop.”

“But now you do just fine. You became a lawyer—you make good money. Even if you fucking hate it. Even if Gus wasn’t in the picture, Riley would be okay.” His deep voice rumbled in frustration.

“I don’t hate it!”

Dusty scoffed.

“I’m sorry, but why are you mad?” I asked.

“Why am I mad?” he parroted back. “I’m not mad. I’m pissed. I’m pissed that after all these years, you still don’t seem to see yourself clearly. I’m pissed that your parents imprinted this ridiculous idea on you that love has to be earned and not just freely given. I’m mad that you were going to settle for a life you didn’t love because it was more convenient for you. And I’m pissed that you, of all people, would think your daughter needs all the things that you had. I was there, Cam. You had everything that money could buy and you still weren’t happy. Riley has support. She has security, and she has an army of people who would do anything for her.”

“I was just being practical,” I said defensively.

“Fuck practicality,” Dusty said softly. Too softly. It was eerily calm after his outburst, and I felt the familiar ache of the past fifteen years push its way back into my bones as Dusty maneuvered my car into a snow-covered parking lot. He cut the engine before the car was all the way in park.

Then he got out of the car. I expected him to stalk away, but he didn’t. He walked around the front of my car, opened my door for me, and picked me up out of the car—still not letting me trudge through the snow even though I could feel his anger in his tense shoulders.

We walked inside a dimly lit lobby that smelled just left of normal. As soon as we were in, Dusty set me down and walked ahead. There was a woman at the front desk with jet black hair and a septum piercing. The only noise I could hear was the faint music leaking out of the headphones she had on and her chewing her gum.

The woman looked up when we got to the front desk. Her nametag said “Mal.” She did a double take at the sight of Dusty.

“Hi,” he said. “Do you have two rooms for the night?” I don’t know why this request slapped me so hard across the face, but it did.

“Um.” Mal scrambled for her computer. “We only have one room available for tonight. The snow pushed a lot of people off the road,” she said. I saw Dusty’s shoulders roll back and down in frustration. Mal looked past him and saw me. She looked between the two of us—probably sensing the tension. “But it’s got two beds,” she said.

“That’s fine,” Dusty gritted out.

“Great,” Mal said. “I just need some information from you.” I listened as Dusty listed off his first and last name and gave Mal his driver’s license. “Cash or card?” she said.

“Cash,” Dusty responded and pulled his wallet out of the inside pocket of his tux. I watched him pull out a hundred and put it on the counter. Mal slid a key across it at the same time.

“You’re going to be in room forty-eight,” she said. “You can go out the back door behind me. The walkway is covered, so you don’t have to worry about the snow. Your room is going to be toward the right, nearly at the end of the walkway.”

“Thank you,” Dusty said as he swiped the key off the desk. He looked back at me and gave me a nod before walking toward the back door. I followed. When we got outside, I went to walk on the outside of him, but he put a hand on my waist and gently pushed me to his other side, farther from the elements—as if making sure I was safe. We walked in silence.

When we got closer to the end of the walkway, I started looking at the room numbers, until I saw ours. The four was metal, but it looked like the eight had fallen off.

Dusty put the key in the doorknob and pushed it open. He let me go in first. He was right—it wasn’t bad at all. It was rustic, with flannel quilts on the beds and wood-paneled walls, but it was also clean and cozy.

“I’m going to raid the vending machine,” Dusty said, his voice still hard. I hated it, and I hated that it was directed at me. “Get us some waters and some snacks. Any requests?”

My stomach growled at the mention of snacks. “If they have those little powdered donuts, I want those,” I said. Dusty didn’t respond. He just nodded and left me alone in the motel room.

I sighed as I flopped down on one of the beds and slipped my shoes off. Dusty’s words rang in my head over and over again, banging on the sides of my skull like a drum. I couldn’t deal with that right now.

I got up, walked to the back of the room, and turned on the light in the bathroom, which was also surprisingly clean and nice-looking. Thank god. I needed a shower. I turned on the water before walking back out to the bed. I slipped off my coat and dug through my purse.

You’ll never catch me leaving my house without these five things: a makeup wipe, contact lens solution, a claw clip, some sort of moisturizer, and at least eight Chapsticks and lip balms. Right now, I was immensely grateful for that.

Back in the bathroom, I slipped my dress off—thank god it was a side zip. I put my hair up and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade down my body. I rubbed at my shoulders and held my face under the stream of water.

I tried to empty my mind. Well, I tried to push everything I was feeling into a little compartment that I could shut and lock. That’s where I kept everything about Dusty—shut tight and locked away. Out of sight, out of mind. Just like his little wooden box. Goddammit.

But Dusty was no longer out of sight. He was here. With me. And he took up every spare part of my mind.

I didn’t know how long I stayed in the shower, but once my skin was an angry shade of red from the hot water and it was hard to breathe from all the steam, I turned the water off, got out, and wrapped myself in a towel.

When I opened the bathroom door, steam billowed out. Dusty had returned from his vending machine run. There was an array of snacks set on top of the mini fridge—including mini powdered donuts.

The man himself was lying on the bed. He had taken his suit jacket and shirt off, and he was bare-chested with his hands behind his head on the pillow. It was the first time I’d seen him with his shirt off as an adult. His chest and stomach were just like the rest of him—toned and smattered in tattoos. The dagger that stretched from a few inches above his belly button to his sternum caught my eye. His eyes were closed. When he heard me, he sighed before blinking them open.

“I want to talk to you,” he said without looking at me. His eyes were on the ceiling.

“Okay,” I said softly.

“And I need you to talk back.” He looked at me this time, and I watched his eyes give me a once-over. I padded over to the other bed and sat on the edge of it, facing him.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you,” he said.

“You didn’t,” I said.

“But I got mad,” he responded. “I just…For the past year I’ve been trying to keep my distance from you because you were engaged, and I didn’t know I could actually be friends with you without wanting something you couldn’t give. It just hurt, I guess, knowing that you were picking somebody you didn’t even love over…well, over me—over even being my friend.

“And I’m so fucking mad at you for thinking that was all you deserved.” I looked down at my bare feet. I didn’t know what to say to that.

“What am I to you, Ash?” he asked. “And if you say that we’re just friends, I swear to God, I’m going to make Mal find me another room—I don’t care if I have to sleep in the same bed as a random trucker.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“What do you want me to be?”

“I don’t know,” I said again. This time, I wasn’t honest, and he must’ve heard it.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “Try again.” His eyes were on me, and they showed no sign of letting up. This was the first time he’d pushed me—really pushed me—since we started being in each other’s lives again. He was the only one who knew how and when to do it.

I sighed. I couldn’t run from him, and I didn’t really want to. Not again. I met his gaze, and for the first time in years, I unlocked the little box in my head, and I was totally and completely honest with myself. “Everything,” I whispered. “I want you to be everything.”

His eyes stayed on mine as he got off the bed and kneeled in front of me. His hands were on either side of my thighs. “I’m ready for that,” he said. “Are you?”

“No,” I said honestly. “But I think—I think I’m getting there.” I saw something flash in his eyes: hope. Dusty laid his head on my lap, and I brought my hand up to stroke his hair and the side of his face without thinking about it.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I loved traveling around the world, Ash. I really did.” His hands on my thighs squeezed them a little tighter. “I loved meeting new people and seeing parts of the world that teenage me could only dream about in this small town. I loved sleeping under the stars and listening to cowboy poetry and getting stupid tattoos.

“But most of all, I love that at the end of it, I got to come back here. To you.” But would he stay? He nuzzled his nose into my bare thigh.

“Dusty…” I breathed. He lifted his head and looked at me. I held his face in my hands. “Your tattoos aren’t stupid,” I said, and the grin that stretched across his face could’ve powered me for weeks straight.

“Do you…” He swallowed nervously. “Still have yours?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I do.”

“Can I see it?” he asked. I nodded, and both of us stood from the bed. It felt like someone had cranked the heat up in the room. Before I lost my nerve, I dropped my towel, and Dusty’s eyes wasted no time in darting to my left hip. Right next to the bone, a small, black “T” in the same font as the “A” on his neck.

I couldn’t tell if he dropped to his knees again on purpose or if it was the sight of it that did him in, but now he was eye level with my tattoo. I felt his thumb brush over it as he stared at it in disbelief. The sound that left his throat was somewhere between a groan and a whimper as he brought his lips to it. He kissed and licked and sucked at it as I knotted my fingers in his hair.

“Get back on the bed,” he said against my skin.

“Which one?” I asked on a breathy laugh.

“Mine,” he said on a growl. “I want you in mine.” He stood and gripped my waist, turning me so my back was toward his bed before lifting me up and tossing me onto it. A shocked laugh came out of me as my back hit the mattress, but it got cut off by Dusty getting on top of me and sealing his mouth to mine.

It was intentional, slow, and hungry. He kissed me like he was starving but wanted to savor every last bit of his meal.

“I missed you,” he said against my mouth. “I missed you every day.”

I gripped his shoulders. “I’m here now,” I said. “We’re here now.” He kept kissing me slowly. He moved from my mouth to my cheeks to my neck and chest—tasting me. I felt the tip of his tongue and the edge of his teeth. He hadn’t even put his hands on me, and I was already gasping underneath him.

He pushed up on his hands so he was hovering above me. His eyes dragged down my body, and it felt just like his tongue. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

When we were in the bathroom at the gala, things were going so fast. We were so frenzied and hot that I forgot that my body was something I was usually self-conscious about—when I was naked, at least. I waited for the doubt to creep in—after all, my body had changed completely since he’d last seen it, because I’d carried a whole-ass baby in it—but it didn’t show up.

When Dusty told me I was beautiful, I believed him.

“So are you,” I said. I looked up at him, at his inked arms and chest. I traced the dagger on his sternum with my fingers, and he closed his eyes. His nostrils flared. “I want to know all about these.”

“We have time,” he said and then he was kissing me again. Dusty was the one who taught me how much I liked kissing, and damn, did I still. Mostly him, especially him.

One of his hands started to wander—across my collarbone, down the side of my abdomen, to my thigh—while the other kept him hovering above me. He touched me reverently, like he couldn’t believe I was here with him.

I couldn’t believe it, either. But I wanted more, so I dragged my fingernails down his spine and grabbed his hips. I tried to tug on them so they were flush with mine, but he stayed steady.

“Don’t rush me,” he said against my ear. “I want to spend all night worshipping your body—learning all of the things I don’t know about it and remembering all of the things that I do.”

“Can you at least do that with your pants off?” I breathed.

Dusty lifted his head from where he was kissing my neck and looked down at me. He brought his hand to the side of my face and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Open,” he said, so I did—always the rule follower. He pushed his thumb into my mouth, and I immediately bit down and sucked on it. A growl came from Dusty’s throat. “I’m not a fumbling teenager anymore, angel, and when I tell you I want to take my time, I’m going to take my time, and you’re going to love it. And then, when you’re ready, I want you to take what you want. I want you to take everything from me that you’ve missed in the last fifteen years, yeah?”

He pulled his thumb out of my mouth, so I could answer. “Yeah,” I breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he said, and then he kissed me again. Harder this time, and when his hand found the wetness between my legs, my back arched, and I moaned under him.

“I have a condom in my wallet,” he said.

“Were you hoping to get lucky tonight?” I asked playfully. Dusty’s tongue went inside my mouth at the same time one of his fingers went inside of me, and I went boneless on a moan.

“I always feel lucky with you,” he said. “But no, it’s been in there for a while. I’m all clear, though.”

“I have an IUD,” I said. “But…” I trailed off, suddenly nervous and shy. Dusty caught on immediately. He rolled on his side and pulled me with him so we were facing each other. I instinctively hitched my leg up around his thigh.

“But what?”

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. I’d never said this to anyone before—I wasn’t usually vocal at any point in the bedroom. At least not since Dusty. “I don’t want you to come inside of me,” I whispered. “I, um, I don’t want any more babies.”

Dusty paused for a second and looked at me thoughtfully. “You got it, angel,” he said and kissed me again. “Thank you for telling me that. I want you to tell me stuff like that always, okay? Can you do that for me?” I nodded, but Dusty said, “Words, angel.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you,” he said with his mouth on mine. He kissed me for a while—exploring my mouth with his tongue and my body with his fingers. I was so turned on, and my hips started moving of their own accord whenever his fingers got close to my center.

I brought my hands to his waist and started unbuttoning his pants. He let me. I looked down when I pushed them down his hips and saw his cock straining against his black briefs. “Still a briefs man?” I asked.

“Some things never change.” I heard the smile in his voice. He helped me get his pants down and off him. Then I took them from him and threw them across the room. His laugh rumbled through me. “That was aggressive. I like it.”

“I want you” is how I responded. With my fingers knotted in his hair, I pulled him to me again. Our bodies were flush, and it wasn’t enough. I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted it all.

Dusty’s finger slipped inside of me again, and both of us moaned. I moved my hips against his hand. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s my girl.” Another finger, another moan. More kisses, more teeth.

My hips moved faster, and Dusty kept pace with his fingers. “God,” I groaned. “More, Dusty. Please.” He pulled his fingers out of me, but before I had time to miss them, he gripped my ass and rolled me on top of him. I gasped at the contact I made with his hard cock.

I sat up and let my head fall back and grinded against him. “Oh, fuck, angel,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s right. I’m yours. You’ve spent too much time giving yourself to others. Now take what you want. Take it from me. Grind on my cock.” I moaned at his words. I didn’t know I liked that. “God, you’re beautiful, Cam. I love the way you look right now.” I looked down at him. His arms were flexed as he gripped my hips, and his jaw was tight—like he was focusing hard on something.

“I can feel how wet you are through my briefs,” he said as he tilted his head back. “God damn.”

Between the rhythm I’d found, the stimulation on my clit, and Dusty’s words, I was close to coming for the second time tonight, and I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. “Can I come like this?” I asked.

“You can come however you want, angel. Keep going. Keep riding me.” My breath picked up, and I started to feel a familiar squeeze at the base of my spine. “That’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel it. Fuck.”

“Yeah,” I whimpered. Dusty’s grip tightened on my hips as their movement became more sporadic and jerky. The squeeze in my spine got more intense as it moved lower. “Oh my god,” I moaned. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” I fell forward so my hands were on either side of Dusty’s head. I could barely hold myself up as I came. My body shook, and I closed my eyes.

When I opened them, Dusty was looking up at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I didn’t have a chance to take it in before he flipped me on my back again. He stood and pushed his briefs down his legs, and his dick sprung free, and then he was on me again.

“I want to be inside you,” he said. I reached down and grasped his dick. When my hand made contact, Dusty swore through gritted teeth. I guided him toward my entrance.

“I’m ready,” I said. “I want you. Please.”

“You had to throw in the please,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Such a good fucking girl.” When the tip of his cock slipped inside of me, both of us gasped. He went tortuously slow. I tried to lift my hips, but he held them down—taking his sweet time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he said, and my back arched on a moan. “That’s it, angel. I can’t wait for you to take every inch of me.”

“I want to,” I said. “Please, Dusty. Faster.”

Instead of doing what I wanted, Dusty pulled all the way out of me, and I let out a frustrated huff. “What did I say about rushing me?”

“To not,” I huffed.

“That’s right,” he said as he started pushing inside of me again. God, it was too much. “Look at me, Cam. I want to see you.”

I met his eyes, and the affection in them would’ve melted me into a puddle on the bed if I wasn’t already liquid. I felt so many things at once—turned on, frustrated, adored—I almost couldn’t handle it.

He pushed farther inside of me, and when he was fully seated, we both felt it. He collapsed on top of me for a second with a groan. “I just need a second,” he said. “Give me just a second.”

I trailed my fingertips up and down his spine. I felt goosebumps rise in their wake. I would give him as long as he needed. I loved this. I think I still loved him, but I couldn’t fully think about that yet. Not now.

When he started to move inside of me, he pushed up on his arms again. He thrusted in and out of me slowly, with one hand on the side of my neck. The cool metal of his rings pressed against my neck made me shiver, and we both moaned as he moved. Fuck, we were loud. I didn’t know what time it was, but I felt bad for the people in the room next to us.

I kept my eyes on him the best I could, but every once in a while, they would roll back. When they did, he would lean down and kiss me, reminding me that he wanted my eyes on him.

“That’s right,” he said. “Don’t hide from me.” His hips picked up the pace, and I tried to match him thrust for thrust. The noises that came out of him were obscene. I wanted to memorize them—to listen to them over and over again. “You’re doing so good, angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

His words cascaded over me like hot water. I pushed my hips up into him, trying to meet in the middle.

Dusty whimpered. “Fuck, baby,” he said. “You’ve gotta warn me if you’re going to do that. Oh my god.” Seeing how he reacted made me feel powerful, so I kept going—kept meeting him thrust for thrust. “Just a few more and then I’ll pull out—just a few more, okay?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

“Where do you want me, angel? Tell me where to go.”

“On my stomach, please. I want to feel you.”

“Fuck, there you go again.” His thrusts became more sporadic as he lost control. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and gasped. His moans and gasps got higher and more frequent—like he was barely in control. “Good god, woman,” he groaned as he pulled out. He took his hand off my throat and grasped his length. He gave it one hard jerk before I felt warmth all over my stomach.

I watched his face as he came, the way he heaved and gasped. God, he was beautiful. His arms shook as he held himself above me. When his eyes met mine after a minute, they were hooded and dazed.

I moved my hand down to my stomach and dragged a finger through the mess there before bringing it back up to my mouth and tasting him.

“Fuck,” he gritted out and then brought his mouth down on mine. “You are so fucking hot.” He kissed me for a while, until both of our breathing slowed. “Wait here,” he said and then got off the bed. I heard water running in the bathroom.

I stared at the motel ceiling, trying to process what had just happened, but my brain was fried. I was just…content. Happy, even. When Dusty returned, he cleaned me up with care before getting in bed next to me and pulling me to him.

He held me close and moved his hands gently up and down my spine as I laid my head on his chest. “You did so good, angel,” he said with a kiss to my forehead. “You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” I wrapped my arms around him tight. Perfect. I knew nothing or nobody actually could be perfect, especially not me. But with Dusty, I felt pretty close to it.

“I missed you,” I whispered, finally getting brave enough to say it in the dead of night. His heartbeat was against my ear, and I heard it skip.

“I’ve been waiting to hear that for fifteen years,” he said softly.

“Thank you for coming back,” I whispered.