Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  * * *

  Clasping my hand, she squeezes tightly. “You can’t know how relieved I was to come home. You’re my safe place, Ry. My home. I felt better, but not one hundred percent, especially when it came to the size of the wedding, and that scared me. Every time I thought of all those people we don’t even know staring at us, I got anxious. I’d always wanted our wedding to be small and intimate—something just for us, but it blew up to being about Momma, and I didn’t know how to stop that. My grandfather, your grandfather, Daisy and Uncle Zeke were my biggest cheerleaders, and they kept telling me to grab you and take you out under our tree to get married with just them as witnesses. That’s what I wanted, but I was too scared of Momma’s reaction to make that happen.”

  * * *

  Clearing her throat, she stares at me for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Giving her hand a squeeze, I silently encourage her to go on.

  * * *

  “My Momma had come to town for the wedding and for the first time in forever—for the first time that I can ever remember, actually—she was trying. She opened up and talked to Daisy and me about Dad and we shared memories of Dustin. I felt like caving in, and that having the big wedding that she wanted had really made her happy, which made me feel like all the anxiety I felt was worth it after all. Finally, my mother saw the real me—a woman getting married to the man of her dreams—not the stupid girl throwing her life away to live in the sticks that she had made up in her head. After my last dress fitting, she took me to lunch.”

  * * *

  I can see her lip trembling, and my heart beats funny in my chest. Dress fitting day is the last time I saw Violet until yesterday. Whatever happened that day can’t have been good if it made her leave. I’d seen her in the morning before she left, and she’d been fine. By the time she came back, she had a migraine and wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t the first time she’d had a stressed reaction to spending time with Greta, so I didn’t push her. Instead, I held her in my arms and told her how much I loved her.

  * * *

  The next morning, she was gone.

  * * *

  Squeezing my hand again Vi continues, “She was being so open, it was like she was a new woman. She reached across the table, took my hand in hers, and started to get weepy. She confessed to me that she had never really disapproved of you; she’d just been worried that I’d be like my father. When I asked her what that meant, she said…”

  * * *

  She hiccups as her lower lip trembles, and I can see that she is struggling. She takes a few moments to get herself under control before continuing.

  * * *

  “She said that she wouldn’t have married my daddy if she knew that he was going to go crazy, and that she wouldn’t ever want to stand by while that happened to someone else—or, in this case, you. She told me that she loved Dustin, Daisy, and me, but that all the love she had for my father disappeared the further he declined into madness. What began as love became fear, and having to watch her children for signs of mental illness made her hate him. She admitted to me that being married to him was a horrible burden and that, if she could turn back time, she wouldn’t have made that decision. Her exact words were that having the man that she loved go crazy was a fate worse than death.”

  * * *

  Shaking my head, I try to figure out where she’s going with this. “Baby, I get why you were upset—your momma had just laid a lot of serious shit on you. What I don’t get is why you didn’t just come home and talk to me about it.”

  * * *

  Standing up from the bed, Vi starts pacing. “I held it together during the rest of lunch, but by the time we left I was hyperventilating. The panic attack slammed into me like a runaway horse and I couldn’t even speak. I was shaking so hard, Ry, I couldn’t even stand up. Momma had to help me into the car, and it was so bad that I thought I was going to die. When it was finally over, Momma was white as a ghost. I tried to explain to her that I had been having panic attacks since Dustin died, but she said that wasn’t what it looked like to her—she told me that watching me like that reminded her of my father.”

  * * *

  Right now, every part of me wants to get into my truck, drive to New York City, and smack Greta on the back of the head. Mind you, I don’t hit women. The fact that I’m havin’ this thought at all is terrible, but Greta has been a damn thorn in my side forever. God love her, I guess she was tryin’ with Vi that day, but obviously, she scared the shit out of her.

  * * *

  “So you came home and just decided to run away from life?”

  * * *

  Stopping in front of me, Vi shakes her head. “No. Momma offered me help, and I decided to take it. I was going to come home that day and tell you I was going to check into a facility, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how unfair it was to expect you to live through hell with me if I was going to lose my mind. The thought of you ever looking at me the way Momma used to look at my father… it killed me inside. It hurt so bad Ry, to think of you hating me. I thought I knew pain when Daddy died, thought I felt the worst I could ever feel when I saw Dustin hanging there—but the idea of you looking at me with hate instead of love ripped me up inside. I didn’t want you tied down to a crazy person and having your life ruined. I knew you’d stay no matter what, even if staying made you miserable, and I made myself believe that I needed to let you go. It made me ill to think of you with someone else, but it made me sicker to think of you regretting every having married me. I left the ranch and Momma took me to a facility in upstate New York the next day.”

  * * *

  The suspense is killing me. “And?”

  * * *

  Twisting her hands together, Vi sits back down on the bed. “I wasn’t going crazy. Seeing Dustin opened the floodgates to things I’ve been ignoring for my entire life, and everything came rushing out. I kept reliving past moments with my dad, kept thinking about seeing Dustin hanging and I lost it. What I thought was crazy actually wasn’t. According to the doctors, I’ve been suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

  * * *

  I’m frustrated as hell with her right now, but even still, her well-being is at the forefront of my mind. “Did the doctors help?”

  * * *

  Nodding her head, Vi grabs my hand and brings it to her cheek. “Yes. I spent the last ninety days in an intensive treatment center for anxiety disorders. They specialize in PTSD. It was painful as hell and there were days when I just wanted to bury my head in the sand or run away, but I stuck it out. I plan to see a therapist every other week for at least the next year, but I feel better—clearer—than I have since I saw Dustin for the last time.”

  * * *

  Rubbing her cheek, I let the feeling of relief that she’s going to be okay wash over me. “I’m glad you’re okay, baby. I’m glad you got help.”

  * * *

  Eyes on mine, she nods and squeezes my hand. “On the days that I wanted to quit, all I thought about was coming home to you. I left so that you wouldn’t be burdened, but once I realized that I was going to be fine as long as I did the work, I fought hard. I needed to come back strong, needed to be the woman that you deserve.”

  * * *

  I gape at her in shock, wondering what she was thinking. She left me because she thought I deserved better? Jumping up from the bed, I glare down at her. “Goddammit Violet! You have always been the woman that I deserve! You thought you were losin’ your mind, so you decided for me that I shouldn’t have to deal with that? If you were to have the same mental problems your daddy or Dustin had, I wouldn’t love you any less. I’m not like your momma, Vi, and it fucking destroys me that you believed I would turn on you. Here all these years I thought you knew and believed in my love for you, but you don’t. When push came to shove, you threw your chips down and crapped out. That fucking destroys me.”

  * * *

  She’s shaking her head frantically, but I can’t take this shit anymore. I need
to get away, need to think. Without another word, I walk out on her.

  Chapter 6

  I don’t even pause once I get back into my bedroom. I keep right on walking and head into my shower, turning it on hot as I climb under the spray. Trying to reel in my feelings, I go through the motions of washing myself. As soon as I finish the task, I lose it. Turning my back to the spray of the showerhead, I lean against the wall and let myself go. I’m not a crier by nature, but since Vi left, I’ve cried more times, than I can count. It’s fuckin’ depressing, is what it is.

  * * *

  I startle when the shower door opens and Vi walks in, the door closing with a soft snick behind her. I say nothing, but let out a groan when she wraps her arms around my torso and lays her head on my back.

  * * *

  “I hate that I’ve hurt you, Ryder. I’d give anything to be able to take that back, but I can’t. What you said in there was wrong, and what you’re thinking right now is wrong too. It’s not that I didn’t believe in you or your love. I believed one hundred percent that love would make you stay. I knew that, no matter what, you would be there. I was depressed and in shock, and the head space that I was in wasn’t right. I saw myself as a burden, not a life partner. I was so freaked out that I lost faith in myself. I needed help, but I went about it in the wrong way. I let fear dominate me, and by doing that, I let us both down. When I was in therapy and the doctors had me focus on my most positive memories—they were all about you, about us, and the life that we’ve built together. Every minute of every single day of my life since I was fourteen years old, I have been in love with you. You’re my everything, Ryder Jennings.”

  * * *

  I process her words in silence as my tears stop falling. She is silent, that uncanny ability of hers to know what I need seeming to have kicked in. For the first time in three months, my heart doesn’t break for me—it breaks for her. Realizing that she lost faith in herself and then chose to walk away from her own happiness in order to keep from ‘burdening’ me is gut wrenching.

  * * *

  Turning around, I stare down at her. “Vi, even if the worst were to have happened, I would still have chosen, freely, to live out my life with you, come what may. You’re carryin’ around my heart in your hands, and without you, nothing means anything. My heart could no more stop lovin’ you than it could walk out of my chest and ride a horse. Some things are impossible, and bein’ without you is one of them.”

  * * *

  Her own tears are fallin’ now, but they aren’t sad tears. I can see her relief, mixed with her joy. Lookin’ at her now and seein’ this woman, my woman, happy the way she always should be melts my heart. Violet Hammond is my fuckin’ life, and as long as my heart’s still beatin’, it will be livin’ for her. Life isn’t a fairytale—bad things can happen, mistakes will be made, but—at the end of the day—I will always choose her. There is no question.

  * * *

  I need her to know how that I love her just as much as she loves me, need her to know that I want our future together more than anything in this world. Cupping her face in my hands, I kiss her gently before pulling back and sliding down onto one knee.

  * * *

  “Violet Hammond, will you be my wife? Not because it’s part of my granddaddy’s will and not because I asked before. For no other reason than the fact that I love you more than life itself, I’m askin’ you to share this life with me, no matter what. Good times or bad, I want to walk this road with you to the very end. You hold onto me, I’ll hold onto you, and no matter what, we’ll make it.”

  * * *

  I can see the answer in her eyes even before she drops to her knees and says, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES,” as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

  * * *

  We hug and kiss for several minutes, long enough for my dick to have turned to steel. Helping her stand, I wash her from head to toe, reverently, as I tell her over and over again how much I love her.

  * * *

  When she’s clean, she pushes me against the wall with a sly smile before dropping down to her knees. Looking up at me adoringly, she smiles. “I missed sucking you, Ry. Do you know how many nights I dreamt of the taste of you, the feeling of you in my mouth or in my pussy?”

  * * *

  Fisting my hand in her wet hair, I nod. “I thought about you every fuckin’ day, baby. I’ve woken up damn near every night hard as a rock cause I was dreamin’ about eating or fucking your hot cunt.”

  * * *

  Something passes through her eyes quickly, and it’s a look I don’t like because it isn’t comin’ from a happy place.

  * * *

  “What is it, Vi? What’s wrong?”

  * * *

  “I know I have no right to ask, know that whatever happened, it’s on me, but I need to know. Did you have sex with anyone else? Did you date?”

  * * *

  My head rears back in shock and I let out a harsh laugh. “Violet Hammond! Do you really think for one second that I would have gone out and had revenge sex? No, baby. You will always be the only woman I’ve ever been with. I’m damn proud of that. So proud, you can put it on my gravestone when I die. Have it say somethin’ real cool like ‘Here lies Ryder Jennings. Husband. Father. Friend. He only ever loved or touched one woman from beginning to end.’”

  * * *

  My words earn a giggle from her, and it’s very clear to see how happy they make her. Fisting the bottom of my shaft with her hand, she smiles up at me. “Mine can say ‘Violet Jennings. Wife. Mother. Friend. Crazy for Ryder Jennings from start to finish.’”

  * * *

  As I smile, she leans forward and pulls me into her hot mouth. Letting out a moan, I rest my head back against the tiles and watch as she begins working me over. As the steam continues to billow around us, and the intensity of her sucking picks up, I give silent thanks to my tank-less water heater. Granddaddy had been against it, but Vi and I have always had a penchant for shower sex so I stuck to my guns. Talk about a great investment. I watch like a hawk as she sucks my cock, jerking the bottom with her right hand, all the while fingering herself with her left, her eyes never leaving mine as she works me over and gives me the mother of all blowjobs.

  * * *

  The slurping sounds and the feeling of her mouth on my cock is making me nuts. I’m half tempted to bury myself against the back of her throat and fill her mouth with my come, but the need to be inside of her surpasses that. Helping her from the floor, I lift her up so that she can wrap her legs around my waist. Pressing her against the shower wall, I smile at her. “Are you wet, baby?”

  * * *

  Nodding her head, she moans. “So wet, Ry. We’ve never gone this long before, not since we started. One hard fuck after ninety-two days of celibacy didn’t even begin to take the edge off.”

  * * *

  She’s right. We went from being two horny, fumbling kids who used every available free moment to go to town on each other, to being two adults who knew every hot spot on each other’s bodies and couldn’t wait to set each other ablaze. We’ve always laughed at people who talk about variety being the spice of life. Neither of us thinks that’s true at all. To us, the spice of life is giving yourself over and sharing an experience with someone you love. We committed a long time ago to fall in love with each other over and over again, and I’m happier than a pig in shit that we’re going to make it.

  * * *

  With a growl of pure lust, I bring her down until my cock is touching her slick opening. I push into her slowly, inch by inch, drinking in her moans with my mouth as we kiss. Last night, we fucked. Right now, we’re making love. With Violet, every time, every experience, is a fuckin’ winner.

  * * *

  When I’m buried balls deep in the woman I love, I begin a slow but steady rhythm of in and out thrusts. Breaking our kiss, Violet drops her head back and lets out a shout. “Fuck! Ryder… you’re incredible.”

  * * *

  Holdin
g her tighter, I continue thrusting into her tight wet heat as I lean forward and begin licking and biting her neck. Each bite causes her pussy to spasm around me, and I growl low in my throat as I feel my balls start to tighten. Pulling back from her neck, I move back to her mouth and kiss her passionately as I begin to thrust harder. She pinches her left nipple and then her right with one hand as the other hand heads straight to her clit and starts applying just the right amount of pressure to take her over the edge. The second she seizes up on me and yells out my name, I let go and come.