Chapter 37 #2
His head dives back down onto my pussy as he continues to build my orgasm back up. It won’t take long, I’m still needy for him. He works his fingers and tongue in tandem as my body bucks under his mouth.
“Don’t stop,” I pant, legs shaking.
He eats me from behind like a starved man. My body tingles, shock waves running down my spine. I close my eyes, mouth agape, panting like I’m parched from being stranded in the desert. But I’m parched for him, always him.
He flicks my clit, and that’s when my knees buckle. “Come on my fucking face, Whiskey. Scream my name while you give me every drop.”
“J,” I moan.
“No, baby. Let all of Marshall County know who you belong to. Tell them who worships your body.”
He swirls his tongue in circles and flicks my clit over and over until I’m falling over the edge in sweet surrender.
“Jett!” I scream as my body convulses. Jett pulls back, sitting on his knees as he adjusts my thong. He rubs the material over my sensitive clit, sending another shiver through me. The sounds of our heavy panting fill the barn, and too quickly, our moment is over.
Voices sound from outside the barn as Jett stands and adjusts my skirt. I rake my fingers through my messy hair, knowing it’s a lost cause.
Before anyone steps in, Jett cups my cheeks in his hands and crashes his mouth to mine.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my lips.
“Figured you could use an afternoon delight.”
He barks out a laugh as a few farmhands enter the building. They freeze when they see us, but Jett encourages them to carry on. Our time has ended, and I need to get on with my day.
“See you at home?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I finish up.”
I nod as I step away. I don’t get far before I look over my shoulder, biting back a smile as our eyes meet. He looks happy. Satiated. He looks like mine.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Whiskey.”
There was no way I was going back to the office to work.
Not after what happened in the barn. I decided to head to the farmhouse and help Grams get ready for lunch.
Stepping in through the front door, I hear a soap opera coming from the living room.
Gramps is no doubt in his recliner, snoring away.
I glance at the clock on the wall and hope I’m not too late.
“Grams?” I call as I step farther into the hall.
“Wren?”
The kitchen smells like heaven–something savory and warm. Comforting. Grams looks up from the stove, her face lighting up.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
I chuckle. “Need help?”
She snorts a laugh. “From you? I’d like to keep the farmhouse standing.”
“Rude,” I groan. “I left a towel on the burner one time. One time. And no one trusts me in the kitchen. The cottage is still standing.”
“That’s a miracle,” Dad adds as he comes in through the breezeway.
“Hey,” I complain, but he shrugs.
“Smells great, Mary. I have a few things to check on, and I’ll be in shortly.”
“Take your time. I’m going to catch up with my girl.”
I reach for a glass and pour myself some of Grams’s homemade sweet tea. She brews her own tea with the sun and adds just the right amount of sugar without making it too sweet. Sliding out a bar stool, I perch myself on one as I watch her mill about the kitchen.
We fall into easy conversation. Nothing too heavy, which is exactly what I need. Just small-town gossip and things we’ve seen on The Bay Buzz.
The back door opens as boots stomp across the hardwood floor, voices trailing in through the breezeway.
“Just in time,” Grams calls out as she finishes mashing potatoes.
I smile as I pass out hearty paper plates to all the men who work hard to keep Drummond Farms afloat. It’s not nearly as many men as Riggsby Cattle relies on, but enough to fill the kitchen, sunroom, and have men scattered in different barns.
We’re nearing the end of the line when the front door slams shut, startling me. I clench the paper plates, nearly bending them in half as my stomach sinks and my heart rate skyrockets. Every head turns in the direction of the hallway, waiting to see who will emerge.
Nate storms in, dressed in his Marshall County Sheriff uniform, his eyes scanning the room before locking on me. Dread seeps through my veins with the realization that he knows. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. I was finally getting the courage to tell them and someone else told him.
“Why is Davis Baldwin asking me if my sister has had any more unwanted guests at the cottage?” he demands. “When I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, he asked if there had been any issues with your ex-fiancé?”
The air leaves my lungs. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t want it to be here, in front of everyone.
“Answer me, Wren.”
My throat tightens as I glance at my dad. His gaze sears into mine, and I know there’s no hiding now. I swallow hard as I look toward Grams and Gramps, both standing at the island, hands in the air with serving utensils.
“I-I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.”
Nate barks out a bitter laugh. “Didn’t want to worry me?” he scoffs. “Wren, another cop is asking about your safety, and I have no clue what they’re talking about. I’m your brother and a goddamn sheriff. You don’t think I deserved to know?”
“Nate,” Dad warns, but he shakes him off.
“It’s handled.”
“Bullshit it’s handled. Davis says they have an unmarked following your every move. Doesn’t sound like it’s fucking handled to me.”
“That’s not fair–”
“What’s not fair is,” he cuts me off, voice rising, and my body involuntarily begins shaking, “you keeping something like this from us!”
“Enough,” Dad shouts this time, stopping my brother. “Nate, I understand your concern and confusion, but let your sister talk.”
“Go ahead, Pumpkin,” Gramps encourages softly.
My eyes dart around the room, at everyone watching me, and I fight the urge to run from this room. Wrapping my arms around myself, I seek comfort as I start telling them everything. The control and the manipulation. The slap and the apology. The jealousy. The raised voices. The abuse.
Tears pour down my face with shame and humiliation. They deserve the truth, but admitting it to them is soul-crushing. I can see the guilt and sympathy on their faces, and I hate it. Moments ago, we were laughing, and now sorrow has fallen over the room.
Turning toward Nate, I point a finger in his direction. “I was there.”
Confusion washes over his face.
“At Mom’s funeral. Remember when you accused me of being too good to come back home for her. Well, I was there. Covered in bruises, but I. Was. Fucking. There.”
His shoulders slump as moisture coats his eyes. “Wren…”
I raise my hand, stopping him. “Bruises on my eyes. My arms. My neck. I knew I couldn’t walk in the church looking like that, so I wore clothes that covered me from head to toe and the biggest sunglasses I could find. I hid in the overlook of the church and behind a tree at the cemetery.”
Nate swears under his breath while my dad just…stares at me as tears pour over his cheeks.
“Wren…” Nate’s voice breaks.
“Paying for the funeral was the least I could do. Money can’t fix everything, but it felt like a start.”
“It was you,” Dad says, taken aback.
I shrug. “It’s nothing, Dad.”
“You were hurting…”
“I’m fine now,” I say quickly, even though I’m scared shitless.
“That’s not the point,” Nate snaps, running a hand through his hair. “The point is, you went through hell and didn’t bother to tell us. You’re still hiding things from us now. He’s here and you’re alone.”
“I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t want you to worry, and I was too far gone in his manipulation to see clearly. But when I did, I had help getting out. I’m here now, and yes, things are happening in Silo Bay I never considered. I’m not alone. I have you guys, Jett, Davis, and his team.”
Nate shakes his head, looking dejected as his voice softens. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
I offer a small smile. “Because you’re my big brother, and I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Pumpkin,” Dad whispers.
“I know, Dad.”
But knowing doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t erase the pain. They were two thousand miles away; it wasn’t worth burdening them with my problems.
“He’s still a problem,” Nate states, taking a deep breath.
I nod, and his expression darkens.
“I’m going to find him.”
And with Nate’s promise, he closes the distance and wraps his arms around me. He squeezes me tight as he whispers his promise over and over.
What a turn this day has taken.