Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  Her hiss of pleasure sent a jolt down his spine, making all of the little hairs on his body stand like antennae tuned to her response.

  She hugged her silky thighs around his waist as she pulled him flush against her wriggling body. Her pussy was open and dripping with her honey as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

  “Do you love me?” he asked in a harsh voice.

  “What?” She blinked as if waking from a dream.

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yes.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. The soft light in her eyes made him tremble. “Yes, I do.”

  “Tell me. Say it out loud,” he demanded.

  “I love you, Trey.”

  One plunge sent him deep into her core. The force of it had her arching her back as she cried out in shock.

  “Again. Tell me again.”

  “I love you.”

  He thrust hard. “Again.”

  “I love you, I love you, I love you.” The bite of her nails digging into the thick muscles of his back spurred him higher, further.

  His rough palm caught on the delicate fabric of her gown as he held her hips in place. His other hand clenched the edge of the bed as he rode her hard. The need to get as deep inside her as physically possible overrode everything else.

  Greta alternated between chanting his name and praising God as he made her take all of his driving length. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, down his side and around to cup the curve of his butt, urging him to go faster.

  “Trey,” she choked out. Her body undulated beneath him as her sheath sucked on his cock.

  “That’s it, baby.” He blinked against the sweat running into his eyes. “Take me. You’re mine.” A sizzling bolt of lightning streaked from his heart down to his balls. “Mine. Mine.” The tip of his cock nudged her womb as fiery jets of cum shot out.

  “Mine.”

  His spine bowed to keep as much of their bodies in contact as possible. Blackness stole his vision. Greta’s scream echoed in his ears while she twisted and bucked beneath him. If he didn’t remember his name before, he was pretty sure he would now.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed until his head finally cleared. “Greta?” Did that croaking voice belong to him?

  “I’m here,” she whispered.

  In the low lamplight, he saw the silvery tracks of her tears. “Magpie, did I hurt you?”

  “No.” Aftershocks shook her body. “It’s just never been that…intense before. It was like…” she trailed off with another shudder.

  A possession. A claiming. Trey had marked her as his, forever.

  Not able to part from her for one second, he curled around he and brushed his thumb over her damp cheek. “Greta?” He waited until she met his gaze. “I love you.” He stopped the denial he saw coming. “I love you. From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were mine.” He tasted the salt of her silent cry on his lips and tongue. “All I need is you, Greta. With you by my side, I can face anything.”

  And still she cried, whether from fear or happiness, he didn’t know, but he needed her like he needed air. Like he needed sustenance. She made his world beautiful.

  “I love you, Trey,” she breathed out in a broken voice. “Always.”

  She burrowed her fingers in his hair and brought him down for a kiss. Her arms and legs clutched him close, encouraging him to smother her.

  He thrust his cock, which had never softened, in and out of her sheath in a smooth rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. Limbs entwined, they clung to each other like moss on a stone, sinking into the essence of each other over and over again. Throughout the night Trey took her body until they collapsed where they lay. Even then he couldn’t stop touching her, afraid that if he let go, she’d be lost to him forever.

  14

  “Whatcha doing there, Trey?”

  Ben’s deep rumble made Trey jump in his seat. His ears burned as he glanced over his shoulder and saw Ben and Colby watching him with identical frowns on their faces.

  He jumped down off the tractor he knew he shouldn’t be on. “Baking cookies, what’s it look like?” If you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t, then lash out with sarcasm. “I can’t sit back while everyone else is working.”

  “Why aren’t you in your office like usual?” Colby asked.

  Trey hadn’t been in that office since the moment he realized it had become his hiding place. The first chance he got, he was taking the computer and necessary files out of that cave and then boarding up the room. But not yet. The room gave him the creeps, and he wasn’t eager to return.

  “I thought the fresh air would do me some good.” He reached for a bale of grass and held back the wince as the ligaments in his shoulder pulled tight.

  “Well, there’s getting fresh air and then there’s hurting yourself. We’ll give you a hand.” Ben grabbed the nearest bale and easily hefted it onto the conveyor belt.

  The hot sun beat down, and soon the sweat was rolling down his back and wetting his hair. But the work was good, honest, and sure beat being locked indoors all day.

  From the corner of his eye, Trey watched both men as they worked. Colby was like a miniature version of Ben with similar brown hair and dark eyes, although Ben had a touch of gray at his temples.

  At the age of twenty Ben had been hired by Trey’s father. He was big then, but now the man was huge. He had seen Trey through all of his tough times. Now near the age of forty, he had no wife and no children that Trey had heard of, or could recall. It made him wonder why.

  Besides Mark, Ben was the only ranch hand Trey remembered. He knew he had let Greta down in the past. Had it been the same with his men? They were men, so of course it wasn’t like they would say, “Hey, Trey, I’m feeling unappreciated.” But he remembered when there used to be fishing trips and football games and cookouts. When he locked himself away in that office, what did the hands think? Is that why most of them were gone now? And what had inspired the few who had stuck around to stay?

  Questions, questions, and more questions. Soon he’d have enough of them baled and stacked to feed the entire herd during the winter.

  The best course of action would be to say nothing and move forward. Only a pansy would instigate a Dr. Phil moment, yet he couldn’t keep his trap shut. “Can I ask you guys something?”

  Colby wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, then tucked it into his back pocket. “Shoot, boss.”

  “Why did you stay on when I was being a jackass?”

  A cool, contemplative mask settled on Ben’s chiseled features, while Colby looked at him like he just whipped out his johnson. He opened his mouth then snapped it closed and looked at Ben for guidance.

  When Colby saw that the older man hadn’t even blinked, he frowned and turned back to Trey. “What?”

  Trey’s lips twitched at the sight of the young man’s confusion. Colby was probably trying to figure out an answer that wouldn’t get him fired. “Why would you work for a man who treated you like a piece of farm equipment? Who never smiled, never asked after your welfare, who’d rather stay in a closet than spend time with those who cared about him?”

  Colby’s eyes widened. “You got your memory back.”

  His gut sank at the confirmation of his asshole status. “Not really.” He nudged a bale with his boot. “I get the sense that I might have lost my way after Luke died. I don’t think I was as personable as I once was.”

  “Well,” Colby swallowed. “You weren’t always like that. You just became distant.” He let out a rough exhale and looked out into the horizon. His brow pinched as he scratched under arm near his armpit. “Look, I remember when Luke died. It was bad. I just figured that it was your way of grieving. You might have kept away, but you were always fair and willing to listen if any of us had an issue. Really, that’s all I want in an employer. And as my friend, you had a really crappy thing happen to you. You needed time to heal.”

  Trey nodded, blinking against the cloud of
dust that must have flown into his eyes. His gaze switched to Ben. So many emotions swirled in those dark, all-seeing eyes that Trey stood transfixed, hoping that the big man would deliver some sage words to help him come to terms with his action in the past.

  Finally, Ben broke his gaze and ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. “Do you remember much about when your dad hired me?”

  “Not really. I was twelve. One day I came downstairs and you were at the breakfast table.”

  A small smile touched his lips. “Your dad found me working, underage, at the Crescent Moon Bar. My father ran out on us when I was young, and my mom went through loser boyfriend after loser boyfriend until she left when I turned eighteen. Your dad offered me a home. Stability. A family. I’ve always thought of you, and Mark, and even Colby here—” he gave Colby a nudge with his elbow—“as my brothers. You’re my family. I knew that one day you’d come back to us. It looks like you have.”

  Trey swallowed hard against the thump in his throat. As teenagers, Ben was the one who had watched out for him and Mark when they stole their first beers and dragged them home before their fathers found them missing. When he had had to bury his parents, it was Ben who guided him, encouraged him to keep the ranch, and work it himself. Had Trey always been blind to the support he had? He felt the moisture pooling in his eyes and nodded, too stunned to think of anything to say.

  “Look, there’s no need for you to do any heavy lifting, and I understand if you don’t want to be cooped up. I know that if I was recuperating from an injury and I had a very pretty lady waiting to nurse me back to health, I wouldn’t be out here in the manure. Colby and I will finish this. Why don’t you go get Greta and take a drive somewhere?”

  That sounded great, but he wanted to prove his worth. “Are you sure?”

  “We got it, boss.” Colby winked. “There’s always something you can do around here later.”

  “Thanks.” His voice came out hoarse. Trey cleared his throat and tried again. “Thank you.”

  The two men waved him away, and Trey left before he did something stupid like bawl in front of them. It was quite humbling to realize just how much his family had been looked after. How much family he had and never realized. He was a lucky SOB to have these men working for him.

  It didn’t take much thought to plan out exactly how he wanted to spend his afternoon. Heat pooled in his groin at the thought of him, Greta, and an air mattress in the back of his truck. Man, he’d been waiting for an excuse to get the three of them together. Quality time with his wife was exactly what he needed.

  * * *

  Greta sniffed and adjusted her grip on the carving knife. She worked slowly, careful not to slice off a finger as tears blurred her vision. The onions sat off in the corner, waiting for their turn under the blade after she finished with the tomatoes.

  Another tear slipped of her nose and splashed onto the blade to mingle with the juicy red fruit. At this rate, she was definitely going to draw blood. She set the knife down and curled over the counter. Gritting her teeth and clamping her jaw shut didn’t keep the great sobs at bay as they tore out of her throat.

  Trey’s memory was returning and soon there would be no more pretending. Even if the possibility of all of his memory coming back was a ways off, the constant fear of discovery was driving her mad. Perhaps she should have told him the truth from the beginning. Maybe he would have been able to look at things from a different perspective and understand the situation. Oh, but now he looked at her like he used to, with that heat in his eyes that made her knees weak and want to throw herself into his arms. She had missed his kisses, the way he moved inside her body, the sound of his voice when he said he loved her. When she had begged to the heavens to have his love again, she hadn’t known it was going to be at the cost of her sanity. Now her selfishness could leave her with nothing.

  Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. That train was long gone and there was no going back. The damage was done. The thought of never feeling his touch again made her tears flow faster and her entire body shake as they gathered on the counter under her cheek.

  “Greta?”

  She jumped at the sound of Mark’s voice. Oh God, this was almost as bad as Trey finding her.

  “What’s wrong? Where’s Trey?”

  She wiped at her cheeks with a dishtowel and wished she had a mountain of chopped onions to explain the tears. “He’s out in the field somewhere,” she managed to get out between great gulps of air.

  “Are you hurt? Did you cut yourself?”

  She pressed her trembling lips together, and shook her head.

  “Greta, you gotta talk to me. What’s wrong?” He set his hat down on the countertop.

  She took another watery breath and looked into his eyes, and another wave of helplessness crept over her head and swept her in the undertow. Over the years, Mark had become her best friend. Many nights, he sat with her on the swing and let her pour out her heart. Sometimes they said nothing, and his mere presence reminded her that she wasn’t alone. She hated this weakness, this need to have a man hold her and tell her everything would be all right. She was a grown woman and capable of taking care of herself. But when he lowered his head and those dark eyes pierced right though her with a look that said to lay it on him and he’d see her through the sorrow, the need to bare all had become too great.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she admitted in a small, defeated voice. “I’m so afraid. I’m so tired of being afraid. He’s going to remember, and it will be so bad.” The tears started up again. “I can’t, I just can’t.”

  “Ah, Greta.” Mark’s posture deflated. With gentle hands under her elbows, he drew her into an embrace.

  “No.” She pushed away. “You shouldn’t. I don’t want—”

  “Stop.” He tucked the hair that stuck to her face behind her ear. “No matter what, I’m your friend. If I want to comfort you, then I’m gonna comfort you.”

  She put her head down and remained stiff in his arms as she tried to regain her composure.

  He murmured soothing sounds while his hands traced up and down her back as he curled his bigger body around her. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, making strands of her hair catch in his stubble. The hug was friendly, but she knew that with just a word it could turn into so much more, which made her feel even worse.

  The thought of running away with Mark had crossed her mind on more than one occasion. He never hid his feelings for her, and never pushed her for anything more than friendship. He was honest, respectful, and true to his word, not to mention that the man had a ripped body formed by years of physical labor and the face of a fallen angel. In her opinion, there was only one thing wrong with him.

  He wasn’t Trey.

  Trey had owned her heart the moment she found him tossing pebbles at her window. It was his playfulness and determination she had fallen in love with. His confidence that together anything was possible had given her the freedom to believe in their love. No matter what lay in her future, her heart forever belonged to Trey. She knew that. Mark knew that too, yet there he stood, offering her comfort because she hurt and expected nothing in return.

  It sickened her to think she might have been using his friendship to bolster her self-esteem. Mark deserved a woman of his own to love and who’d love him back just as fiercely. Falling apart in his arms wouldn’t help him move on. If she was going to get her life back on track, she needed to stand on her own two feet. The future was a great, big unknown, with only one certainty. Herself.

  She pulled away with a self-deprecating laugh. “You’d think I’d be all cried out by now.”

  “We all have our moments.” He pinched her chin, drawing her gaze up. Concern darkened his eyes and drew the corners of his mouth down. “Everything will be fine, Greta. You just gotta have faith. And so what if he doesn’t remember? He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Mark, stop.” They’ve had this argument before. “Don’t say that. He’s been through a lot.”
>
  “So have you. I wish you wouldn’t make excuses for him. Do you know how often I’ve wanted to hurt him for making you cry?” The roughness of his tone was in sharp contrast to the gentle hand he used to stroke her cheek.

  “Please.” She pulled away from the touch. “Please. Don’t.”

  He looked out the window, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he ground his teeth together.

  “All right,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry. I know he’s trying. Sometimes, it’s like the past few years haven’t happened and he’s his old self again. Don’t fret about tomorrow, or the day after that. It’s gonna work out. Somehow. You are a strong woman. You’ll survive whatever is thrown at you.”

  “Yeah,” she drew the word out. “I’ll survive.” Bitterness crept into her tone. She survived hard times before, but would she ever again be whole?

  “Mark, I’m sorry.” She shook the maudlin thoughts out of her head. “I didn’t want to drag you into this or make things harder. You’ve been so good to me and I haven’t… I wish, I wish…” she trailed off, her head hung low.

  Mark reached out then drew his hand away to hook his thumb into his belt loop instead. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I make my own choices. I’m a big boy. I knew what would go down.”

  “You’re a good man, Mark,” she whispered, her eyes filling with more goddamn tears. She was going to be a prune by the end of the day if this kept up.

  He inclined his head. His own lips were pressed together, as if he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. He reached for his hat and twirled it in his hands. “I came to see how you were holding up. I guess I have my answer.”

  “I’m sorry.” For everything.

  He waved her apology away. “Do you need help with anything?” When she shook her head, he rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you do.”