Chapter 24 Rowe
Rowe
We are dead meat.
Before I can think, Pane unlocks Stella’s door, picks up Tallulah, and ushers us both inside.
Days ago, I would’ve argued with him. I would’ve wanted to head into a different stall, but now I’m letting him pull me in, shocked that Pane is actually—willingly—picking up Tallulah and guiding the three of us to the back of the unicorn’s stall.
“Those roses were a dead giveaway,” Sally Ray sneers as she shoves the barn door open.
Silvery light floods into the barn. Even in the darkest corners, there’s enough illumination that Sally will find us this time. I swallow past a knot in my throat as I realize that we’re done for.
“First, I’m gonna sniff out your ass and have you arrested,” Sally declares, her boots thudding heavy on the floor. “Then I’m gonna take your farm, and when I do, I’m gonna have every last piggy slaughtered and turned into bacon.”
She cackles like a maniac.
I start to charge forward, but Pane hooks his arm around my shoulder and pulls me back against him.
Tallulah sits on the floor, somewhere by my feet. I hope she didn’t understand Sally. I don’t know any animal psychologists who could treat her for the trauma of hearing she’ll be turned into bacon.
But the pressure of Pane’s arm captures my attention because it’s resting just above my breasts, and once again, I’m pushed against him, my butt to his crotch.
Oh, wow.
He’s got an erection, and it’s pressing into the curve of my ass cheeks.
Pane shifts, probably because his pants are uncomfortable, quietly turning me around so that now my chest is against his. But his erection isn’t gone. It’s now digging into my stomach. And none of this helps my nipples, which are tight and pinched, scraping against the fabric of my bra.
Sally snaps on her phone light and starts whipping it over the stable. The light gets ever closer, and there’s nowhere to hide. No place to go. Sweat trickles down my back. It sprouts on my forehead. She will see us, and we will be arrested.
My fingers dig into Pane’s arm, silently telling him that we’re screwed. In response, his hands circle my waist.
Somehow I don’t think his body is saying, You’re right, Sally’s totally going to find us.
I look up at him, and his lips drop to within an inch of mine.
My heart blooms with the feeling of love that Stella has seeded inside me. I don’t know what Pane’s feeling. It could be that. It could be the need to run. But as I tip my face up to his, his lips drop even more.
Why am I thinking about making out when imminent doom is approaching?
But I can’t help it. The cottony scent of his breath washes over me, wrapping me up and making my core tighten.
Behind me, Sally’s light creeps ever closer. We’ll be found for sure. Sally will call the cops. We’ll be charged with trespassing. She’ll make bacon. Ugh. I can’t even think about it.
All those thoughts and more, like ones I’m trying to ignore about Pane’s generous erection, fill my head.
The roses rustle and I stiffen. Are they pulling back? But no, I look up just as vines shoot out next to us, growing at turbo speed, creating a lattice that stretches and pulls around us. In the blink of an eye, they’ve created a thorny wall, forming a tight web between the three of us and Stella.
We’ve been camouflaged, hidden safely inside something akin to a hunting blind that Sally can’t see into.
Inside the lattice, it’s pitch black. All I can hear is Sally’s muffled mumbling—something about stupid roses and how she’s gonna get me. Then her feet slowly make their way back to the front of the barn.
Oh, wow. She’s giving up!
I hope.
As the sounds of her footsteps become more and more distant, I’m suddenly intimately aware that Pane’s nose is pressed against mine, and that his lips are hovering less than an inch away.
He rubs his thumbs against my waist, and his voice is low and husky. “You should really stop putting us in situations where you want to kiss me.”
It’s a joke; I know it is. But it’s more than that. It’s an open challenge. An open invitation.
I lick my lips. The sound is deafening in this rose cocoon. “What about rule number four?”
“What about it?”
“You created it.”
His lips graze the tip of my nose. “Who said anything about breaking it?”
“No one.” My core thrums. My groin throbs. “But it seems like . . .”
His lips brush my cheek, sending a shiver cartwheeling down my back. “Like what?”
“Like we might be about to do some breaking.”
Pane exhales, and his breath rolls over my flesh like smoke on a river. “And would that be bad?”
“It’s a rule.”
One that I really, really want to break right now. In fact, all I want to do is rip off my clothes and throw Pane on the floor.
The urge is nearly overwhelming.
But neither of us budge, and Pane keeps brushing his lips over my cheeks, my jaw, my nose, leaving trails of fire burning across my skin.
My knees nearly buckle when he murmurs, “We should go.”
But the roses don’t budge, and neither do we. A thousand thoughts ping in my head.
He’s leaving town in a few weeks.
He’s a great kisser.
You should jump him, Rowe.
That last one came out in Clarice Sinclair’s voice, which is all kinds of wrong.
His lips keep scraping across my cheek, dipping closer and closer to my mouth. I tip my face up to his, and his mouth slides over mine.
It’s just a kiss, the little devil on my shoulder suggests. What could be the harm?
The angel on my other shoulder shakes her head in dismay. Obviously, she’ll be abandoned again, and then we’ll have to endure all the heartbreak. How long will the pain last this time?
Screw it.
His mouth starts to cross over mine, and this time I’m ready. I angle my lips up, and Pane’s mouth seals with mine. An explosion of sensation flares inside my core, shooting fireworks all the way to the ends of my fingers.
Pane’s tongue lashes against mine. He tastes earthy and wonderful, like sweat and hard work.
When he moans into my mouth, just hearing the sound—that little pleasure from such a grunty man—makes my knees quiver.
I can’t get enough of him.
His hands dig into my waist. My fingers rake through his hair. Pressure builds in my pelvis and I press myself against him, grinding him into the wall. His erection presses harder into me, which turns me on even more, and I grind harder.
Memories of our first kiss flood my mind. If that one was fire, then this one is a towering inferno that reaches all the way to outer space.
He slides a palm down the front of my jeans, cupping my pelvis.
My God, he’s gripping me hard, his fingers tightening at my opening.
A gasp rips from me. Even through my jeans, the pleasure rocks me. I want more. I want all of it. He holds me harder, and I grind myself against him like a rabid raccoon needing a fix. I’m on the verge of climaxing by simply being touched outside my jeans.
While Pane keeps the pressure on my pelvis and I’m grinding against him like a horny squirrel, his other hand moves up my waist, and this time, I’m going to let him feel me up. I’m ready. My breasts ache. My nipples long to be touched by someone other than myself.
That’s when it hits me. For the past four years, I’ve been living a half-life, shoving away emotion, but now my heart is thumping in my chest and my rib cage is shrink-wrapped around it.
Maybe that’s not right. Maybe my rib cage isn’t shrinking. Perhaps my heart’s expanding like a balloon, swelling inside my chest cavity, pressing against its bony cage, forcing me to feel things I haven’t experienced in . . . forever.
Things like my heart.
Wait. That can’t be right.
But I am feeling it. My heart is thumping and beating, waking up in a way that makes me realize it’s been asleep. It never occurred to me that it’s been shut down ever since Luke slashed it to pieces.
But it has been, and now it’s wide open for business, whether I’m ready or not.
And I’m not ready.
Just as Pane slides his hand up the outer rim of my breast, the rose wall rips apart, exposing us and bringing with it a shock of night air.
I leap away like I’ve been caught making out in a car parked by the lake. Pane doesn’t move.
Stella’s standing where she always does. She glances at the roses as if they’re a minor inconvenience and tosses her head back.
Stella. Her power.
That’s what caused all this. That’s why I was so worked up. That’s why Pane kissed me. It’s because of Stella’s power.
Whew. Thank goodness I know that. Otherwise, this could have been embarrassing. You know, me thinking that this is real and all.
The sound of our panting fills the stable. I look over at Pane. He swallows hard. “Sunbeam . . .”
He’s going to say what I was thinking—about how this is all Stella’s fault. I’ll save him the trouble. “We should get going.”
His eyes flare briefly before his face settles into his normal broody expression. “Yeah. Before Sally comes back.”
We leave in silence. When we return to the house and he’s about to walk off to his shamper, I stop him with, “You know, there’s a guest bedroom downstairs. It’s yours if you want it.”
Moonlight splashes across Pane’s face, highlighting his tight brows. He cocks his head as if he’s about to say something, then seems to change his mind. “I’ll get my things.”
He gets his clothes and I show him the bedroom, giving him a quick good night. Too quick for me to throw myself at him, too quick for my eyes to linger on his lips (even though they try to). Then I scamper off to my bedroom and fall into a very lonely and restless sleep.