Seven.
Julie
Clayton’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
I couldn’t help peeking to see what he’s up to, considering it’s been a lot longer than two minutes—more like fifteen.
So I take the time to look around, noting my surroundings in the fading light.
If I was with anyone else, I’d be triple-checking for an escape route right about now, but with Clay…
I have this sense he’d never let anything happen to me. Ever.
Hmm. Clay . I wonder if he’d mind if I called him that?
My door opens a second later, his rough, handsome face fills my vision. “Ready?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear and sounding rather out of breath.
I nod, taking his hand as he helps me out of the truck once again.
“Watch your step,” he says. “There’s a few gopher holes I haven’t had a chance to fill yet.”
He leads me around to the back of the truck where he’s filled the open truck bed with blankets and pillows. There are a few citronella candles lit and perched on the tailgate with a lantern and sketchpad sitting next to it.
“What’s all this for?” I ask.
He carefully takes hold of my waist and picks me up. He plops me down on the tailgate and gestures for me to get comfortable. I eye him suspiciously before turning and crawling into the little nest he’s made for us.
It’s kind of sweet, this moment he’s creating from scratch.
He fetches our dinner from the floorboard of the cab, handing me a bottle of water as well. Then he’s taking the lantern and lighting it. “Now, I need you to keep an open mind for me here, all right?” He lets out a nervous laugh.
“Okay…” I draw out, crossing my legs beneath me I pull on my light sweater.
He takes the lantern and begins to walk several feet away. As he does, orange lines tied to stake posts come into view between the setting sun and the lantern. What are those for?
“I figure you’ll want the front door sort of facing the street,” he starts, taking a few steps to the left.
“And we can extend part of the porch here—facing the grove so we’ll get a clear shot of the sunset every night.
” He pauses, watching my more than confused expression as he continues to explain whatever plan he’s referring to, “Now if you don’t like this spot, I can clear out some of those trees over there.
” He points along the far side of trees.
“I’m not sure how flat I can get it, but if that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen. ”
Is…he saying what I think he’s saying?
I crawl to the end of the truck, perching on the very edge. My mind is swimming at his open invitation and vague implications. I don’t want to assume what he’s offering right now, but…it’s hard not to. “Why are you showing me this?” I finally ask, my heart in my throat at his steady approach.
He sets the lantern beside me, his gaze level to mine in this position with his generous height. The spark is back in his eye as he asks, “Can you see it?”
I look over to the blocked-off area he’s created out of nothing and will myself to see what he sees…
A house begins to appear.
From the bottom up, a stunning, massive white farmhouse with a wraparound porch and matching beautifully stained wooden shutters fills the space.
“I… I see it,” I whisper.
Kids pour out of the house. Sons and daughters, racing toward me to play in the yard before I see myself—standing on the porch. The biggest smile on my face as I lean into the embrace of the man beside me.
It’s him…
“When you were telling me your dream at the diner, I saw it—here,” he says quietly, the sun setting at his back, lightning bugs beginning to sparkle in the surrounding trees.
“Ever since the day we bumped into each other at the market, I’ve felt this…
need. This desire to be by your side. I’m drawn to you, Jules.
When I’m with you I feel…whole. We fit, darlin’. ”
His warm, calloused hands cup my face. His thumbs gently swipe away a few stray tears. A burst of nervous laughter escapes me as I begin to cry. This is all really overwhelming and…so beautiful. I can hardly separate my emotions from my thoughts.
“We’re meant to be together,” he whispers deeply. “And if you’ll give me the chance, I swear on this mountain, you won’t regret it.”
Yes , my heart screams.
And I listen.
Nodding vigorously, I crash my lips against his.
Sparks ignite between us as our first kiss deepens into a raw, unaltered passion.
We’re a mess of arms and tongues. While I’m busy throwing my arms around his neck and urging him closer, he’s busy hauling me against him by my waist. His roughly worked hands splay over my lower back, trailing to my ass.
I moan into his mouth, my body arching against him, reaching for his words, his touch—all of him.
He breaks the kiss, pulling away and panting as our eyes lock. “Jules…” His voice is a harsh hiss as he holds me firm against him.
I lick my lips, savoring the lingering masculine taste of him. His dark eyes dart to my mouth as he mimics my action, licking his own with a heated gaze. I focus on his tongue, my mind drifting to all the filthy things I want him to do to me with it—right here, right now.
His grip tightens on me and a slow smile slides over my lips. “Clay,” I breathe.
“Say the word,” he pants, flexing under my touch. I glide a hand down from his neck and over his solid chest. His head dips low to the crook of my neck, that devilish tongue darting out to trace the shell of my ear. “Say the word and you can have it all, little wife.”
Little wife? A pleasant chill runs up my spine at the notion and the sound of his deep whispered baritone.
I like him calling me that.
I like it a lot, actually.
He nips my earlobe, my neck, my collarbone. My head tilts back on a moan when he reaches the exposed pillowy tops of my breasts. “If you don’t get in this truck bed with me right now, cowboy, you’re going to break my heart.”
I tip my head up just in time to see his grin become as seductive as his gaze. “Well, we can’t let that happen now, can we.”
A giggle bursts out of me when the tailgate dips under our combined weight perched on the edge.
I quickly scoot backward as he hoists himself into the bed of the truck and prowls over me.
“You’re a siren,” he growls, bracing on his fists while he stares down at me lying beneath him in a flood of blankets.
My brows knit together. “Are you saying I’ll be the death of you?”
He sends me a wicked smirk. “If you are, I’ll die a happy man,” he says, leaning in and capturing my lips once more.
I roll my eyes. I’m starting to get the impression he can’t help himself when it comes to his silly flirty lines. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I know CPR.”
He chuckles lightly, and I smile at the sound. It reminds me of…well, him—the sweet words, the confidence, the flattery. How did I mistake him for anything other than what he is now?
My future.
I arch up to meet him as he settles over me, leaning in with the delicious weight of his solid frame pressed against me. Warming me with his heated touch and enveloping me in the scent of him—freshly cut pines and cool mountain air alongside his natural musk.
A moan slips from my lips as he shifts, his rough palm trailing down my side. His hand fists the bottom hem of my dress and begins inching upward. Breaking our kiss, he murmurs against my lips, “If we do this…you’re mine. Forever.”
My heart swells for not the first time this evening. “Is that a promise, cowboy?” I nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip. He groans, heavy-lidded eyes trained solely on me as I whisper, “I don’t want to be loved by anyone else. Only by you.”
In an instant, he’s on me—kissing me passionately before his lips pepper along my jaw and neck, then lower.
He lingers over my exposed chest and breasts while shimmying my dress higher and higher until it’s bunched around my waist. I suck in a breath, watching him slide down my body, his lips never leaving me as he continues laying light kisses all the way to my hip.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes, his hot breath fanning my chilled skin.
I shiver when he tugs the top of my panties down, continuing his feather-light kisses over the top of my pussy. “Clay.”
He smiles against my skin, his dark gaze rising in my direction.
“I love it when you say my name like that, little wife.” He roughly tugs my panties down my legs in a tear of fabric and I gasp.
“I want to hear you scream it while I fuck you. I want my name echoing between these trees for days to come.”
My legs fall open at his touch as he settles his head between them. All the breath leaves my lungs in a whimper as he licks my pussy. Deep and slow. His tongue delves through my folds, lapping at my clit in a way that has my hands scrambling for purchase amongst the makeshift bedding.
“Oh—”
“Mmm,” he groans, his tongue moving skillfully over my clit. With more pressure, he rolls small circles around my throbbing bud before he sucks it between his lips. My body arches at the sudden rise in pleasure with the combined feeling of my core slickening—readying for his waiting cock.
His grip tightens on my thighs as they start to tremble, my orgasm teetering on the cusp of release.
Then I feel his hand loop under my leg, heading toward my core.
He probes a finger at my weeping entrance before pressing inside, stretching my tight channel.
The added sensation is enough to send me over the edge as my body convulses on his command.
I come.
Long and hard.
“Clay—ohh,” I call out, a shaking, gasping mess. He continues his sensual ministrations against my damp, sensitive flesh before gingerly lifting his head. Heat rises to my cheeks at the glisten of my arousal coating his lips and chin.