Chapter 26 Karl
TWENTY-SIX
KARL
It’s the first time Nancy has lied to me. I know without a doubt because her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. I’m not going to bug her about it, though. She walked away from that world, and maybe the thought of being around horses again makes her uncomfortable.
“Should we go see what Matt wanted to show us?” she asks, standing before I can answer.
“Yeah, let’s do that. He’s probably organized all our Royal ribbons from over the years to rub it in my face because he has one more Best in Show.” When she laughs, I am relieved to discover that her smile reaches her eyes this time.
We walk, hand in hand, down the lane to the cottage, and I’m going over all the possibilities of what Matt has done when we crest the hill and I see my dad’s truck parked in front of the cottage with a mattress in the bed.
“Oh!” Nancy exclaims, pulling me to a stop. “Did they…”
I take in the scene as Dad and Matt walk out the front door and see us.
“About time!” Dad calls and waves us forward.
When we walk through the door, there’s a distinct lack of dust. It’s bright and smells fresh.
“We brought that industrial fan down from the east barn, and it cleared out the air pretty quickly. Then while you two were out, we grabbed the mattress from the spare room so that’s dust-free.
Mom said she’ll take Nancy to the store in a couple of days, and she can set up a registry.
Get you two some home stuff that you like rather than what’s already here. ”
“We’ll both go,” I say, squeezing Nancy’s hand, leading her through the cottage so she can see it properly for the first time.
It has two bedrooms, neither very big. One bathroom that’s only slightly less basic than the kitchen and a living room that has an old couch and armchair with a wood-burning stove in the corner. We’ll definitely update the furniture. I didn’t know what I’d been saving for, but I do now.
“It’s great,” Nancy hiccups. And when I look down at her, she’s got tears streaming down her face.
“Oh god, what’s wrong?” I ask, turning her to face me while I run my thumbs across her cheeks.
“Nothing is wrong. This is all so nice. My mother’s reaction was to get a lawyer, and your parents furnished a freaking house,” she gasps as a fresh wave of tears overflows. “Your family is wonderful, but obviously I mean I”—she gestures at me—“shouldn’t be so surprised.”
I hear the front door click shut, meaning my dad and brother are giving us some privacy, which I’m beyond grateful for.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I murmur into the top of her head as I hold her close.
“I just…” she stutters, burying her face into my chest.
“Just what, dearest?” I ask quietly.
Nancy shakes her head as her arms wrap around my waist, only releasing a little sniffle.
I rub her back as she collects herself in the middle of our dated kitchen, comforted by the fact we have our own space to have these moments in.
The sound of truck tires on the snow fills the room, fading as my family retreats and I walk backward through the bedroom door, sitting the moment the back of my knees connect with the bed.
Nancy crawls into my lap, wrapping herself around me while her breathing steadies. She fits so well against me, like she belongs here.
Soon enough she’s breathing normally, still holding me in a vise, but I feel her head move and then her lips on my neck. Now it’s my turn to try and control my breathing as she kisses along my jaw, leaving goosebumps in the wake of her lips.
Her hands slide up my neck until her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling in a way that has my entire body waking up.
“Karl,” she breathes as her teeth nip my chin.
“Mmmhmm?” I hum, not daring to move.
“Make me feel good.”
She doesn’t need to ask twice, doesn’t need to convince me any further as I shift our bodies so she’s on her back, legs still wrapped around me, keeping me firmly pressed to her.
I shuffle us up the bed, suddenly desperate to be closer.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble, struggling to pull my coat off, only managing to get my right arm out before she’s hauling me back down.
Fumbling hands, whimpers of frustration, rustling of clothes being half discarded. Desperate to get closer, refusing to separate long enough to make much headway in the undressing department.
“Whoa,” I wrap my fingers around Nancy’s wrists and pin them to the bed above her head. “I need,” I pant, “I want to make you feel good. I need a second. Okay?” I ask, keeping her firmly in my grip until she relax and offers a nod so small it’s almost imperceptible.
Sitting back, I rip my coat off and make quick work of my shirt while Nancy does the same with her own, except she manages to get herself stuck half in and half out of her sweater.
I use the opportunity to collect myself and then reach down to slowly help untangle her arms. My eyes stay on her as I toss it behind me, unable to look away.
Her arms are splayed, left where they’d fallen when the fabric was pulled away. Her bra askew, begging to be removed. A lazy smile, pupils blown wide as she stares up at me.
I need to slow things down and savor this moment with her for the first time in our bed, within the walls of our first home.
I’ve never been someone who understood the need to cherish something, and yet here I am wanting to do just that because the thought of rushing this fills me with an anxiety I’ve never experienced before.
Nancy pushes herself up onto her elbows, her head tilts in question, and nervous energy crackles around us as we just look at one another.
And then she smiles, the same one she gave me when she said, “I do.” A smile that reaches every corner of her face, and I can’t hold back anymore. Can’t wait another second to be this far from her.
Her back hits the bed, her hands returning to my hair, holding me to her as our mouths do all the talking. My fingers slip under the cup of her bra, and she arches into me as I tweak a nipple, moaning into my mouth.
I’m so distracted by the sounds she’s making I don’t realize her hands have left my hair and she’s pushing me off to the side. I don’t register what’s happening until she’s straddling me, hands working on undoing my jeans.
When I reach down to help, she slaps my hands away, eyes glued to what her hands are doing, biting her lip in concentration.
She’s stronger than she looks, and I have to remind myself that she has worked around one-ton animals her entire life.
Her hand snakes into my boxers, wrapping around me, stalling my breath as she squeezes and pulls me free. I remain motionless as she goes to work, sliding her body back and lowering herself, taking me into her mouth.
All I can do is watch as she bobs up and down and the tension builds at the base of my spine. She’s still got her jeans on and is only half covered by her bra. She’s a beautiful mess as she moans around my cock.
Her left hand is gripping my thigh while her right slides along with her mouth, and I realize I can’t let this go on a second longer without tasting her. Finally moving, I sit up, dragging her off me in the process.
I flick open the button on her jeans and give her ass a tap. “Let's get these pants off, beautiful.”
Her eyes stay on me while she stands, hooks her thumbs into the top of her jeans, and pushes them down until she’s standing in front of me in only her bra, pushed up over her left breast while hanging on to her right for dear life.
I cease breathing as she reaches behind her back and then as the flimsy pieces fall away from her body.
Nancy Hore is fucking perfection.