Desperate Hearts

by Lani Aames

  “Is that a threat?” she asked quietly.

  “No, I'm not saying that! I'm saying I want it here with you. I feel like I'm gonna bust wide open.”

  It hurt to hear him beg. She loved Mitch and she wanted it to work for them...but she couldn't give in. It didn't feel right yet.

  “I'm sorry, Mitch.”

  “Dammit, Talley, let me stay the night. I'm a hell of a lot better than I was at seventeen. Not nearly as quick. I've learned how to please a woman. We'll take it slow and easy and find all the answers we were too young to find back then.”

  “Mitch, please. I love you, but I'm not ready for us yet.”

  He swore under his breath. If he was angry enough, he might go out and seek satisfaction elsewhere. She certainly had no right to blame him if he did.

  Strangely, the idea didn't distress her as much as it should have.

  “You haven't told me how your song 'Desperate Hearts' is coming along?”

  Mitch grinned proudly. “I didn't? I can't believe I forgot. Bonnie finished the lyrics last night. I was having so much trouble with the words, I just handed the whole thing over to her and told her to fix it.”

  “You two work so well together.”

  “Yeah, we do. She cleaned it up. We went straight through it once before we quit rehearsal. Took us all afternoon, but we did it. If Dylan wasn't such a jerk, you could have heard it.”

  A couple of months before Dylan had gotten it into his head that the band should be paying him for the use of his place to rehearse. He had forgotten that they provided his customers with live entertainment at no cost to him.

  The only other place they could find to rehearse was Snake's in "the bottoms". Every spring, the Mississippi River overflowed its banks and flooded the bottomland. Houses, churches, and joints like Snake's were built high on stilts to keep from being flooded out. Some families left their homes until the Mississippi decided to return to its rightful place while those who didn't leave used boats.

  Mitch and the rest of the band members didn't like Snake's reputation for trouble, but Snake Drummond agreed to let them use his joint in the afternoons. He was satisfied with the arrangement since his afternoon crowd had increased. Dylan grumbled about the falloff at the Rose, but wouldn't admit it was because the band didn't play there anymore.

  Talley had thought about quitting the Rose, but she had come to enjoy working there. Dylan was gruff, but he seemed to like her. He let her choose which afternoons or nights to work as long as she always came in Saturday nights. For the past three months his strict rule had worked in her favor...as well as being her excuse for not traveling out of town with Mitch and the band.

  “You'll get to hear it next Saturday night, Tal. We're playing the Fourth festival at the park. You will be there, won't you?”

  Held the Saturday before the Fourth of July every year, the celebration was a county tradition. Lots of food, games, and contests filled the afternoon as well as local bands taking turns to provide live entertainment throughout the day and night. After the street dance, a spectacular fireworks display would mark the end of the day's festivities.

  “I wouldn't miss hearing you, Mitch. I'm glad Dylan agreed to let me off. Otherwise, he'd have a fight on his hands.”

  “We're on early in the afternoon, but we've also been asked to play for the street dance.”

  “That's great! Some people leave early and come back for the street dance and fireworks.”

  “And some don't show up at all until just before. We're gonna save 'Desperate Hearts' for last. We'll blow 'em away!”

  “I know you will.” Talley leaned into him and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Will your father be there?”

  “I doubt it,” he said gruffly and scowled. “Before they died, my grandparents used to take me. Ever since we've been playing the festival, he always finds some excuse not to make it.”

  “Did you tell him you got the prime spot of the evening?”

  “Yeah. He just grunted.”

  “Did you ask him to come and see you?” Talley persisted. “Did you tell him about your song and that you want him to hear it?”

  “Wouldn't do any good.” Mitch jumped to his feet and paced. “I stopped counting the times I asked him to see us a long time ago, Tal, and then I just quit asking altogether. He always has some excuse or just flat out says no if he's drunk enough.”

  Talley's heart ached for him.

  “You can't give up.”

  “Yeah, I can. I'm tired of trying to get through his stubborn head. And I sure don't try when he's been drinking.”

  “I'm sorry, Mitch.”

  “Don't be sorry, Tal. Dad's not worth the bother.” Mitch took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I don't want to talk about him anymore. I want to talk about us.”

  He kissed her, his tongue flicking against hers. She allowed herself to enjoy the taste of him a few moments, then ended the kiss.

  Mitch breathed heavily. “I don't mean to rush you, sweetheart, but I love you!”

  “I love you, too, Mitch, but the answer is still no.”

  He hugged her tight. “I'm not giving up, Tal.”

  “Good night, Mitch.”

  He kissed her quickly one last time then walked to his truck and drove away. Talley breathed a sigh of relief. She was still overwhelmed by all the emotions that wracked her body. She wasn't immune to his kisses and caresses. She ached deep within herself.

  Inside, the trailer was stifling from the heat and humidity, and she turned on the air conditioner. She ran a bath and washed away the smoke and smell of The Rusty Rose and the fine film of perspiration that still clung to her skin. The hot water felt good as she relaxed in the tub, a folded towel behind her head. Her skin tingled from what had been as well as what was to come. She drifted off and when she woke, the water was almost cold. She dried off and dressed in a knee-length white cotton nightshirt with the words “Come and Get It” in hot pink across the front. She pulled hot pink socks over feet that always grew cold with the air conditioner running.

  In the kitchenette, she measured grounds and poured water into the coffee maker. She fixed a glass of iced tea and sipped at it while she smoked a cigarette, and finger-combed her hair in the dark. When her hair was dry enough and the last of the ice had melted in the glass, she curled up on the couch. The day had been long and tiring and she fell asleep quickly.

  Sometime later, Talley woke to the sound of the door opening. She had left it unlocked on purpose. Her eyelids fluttered open and she watched her doorway fill with the silhouette of a large man.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He was a tall man, lean but not slender. He wore a denim shirt, sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned almost to the waist. His jeans, worn and faded from hours of work in the sun and many washings, fit snug on his hips and were held up by an old leather belt. His scuffed square-toed cowboy boots were rundown at the heels from years of use.

  She watched him fill the doorway then pull the door shut behind him. He came in on a wave of hot humid air, but she shivered from the anticipation of him. Every Saturday night for three months he had come to her like this in the middle of the night—every night except the first night that is.

  “Mace,” she whispered. She was, as always, in awe of this man. She couldn't see his face clearly in the shadows, but she knew it by heart—every crease around his eyes and mouth, the sun-browned, soft leathery texture of his skin. Her fingers ached to touch his face.

  “Come here, darlin...”

  She was up and in his arms before he finished. Her eagerness and desperation for him disgusted her, but she could control neither. She lay her head against his chest. She was tall but he was taller and that worked out so well.

  He tousled her hair and kissed her forehead. She reached up and lay her lips over his, slipping her arms around his neck. His mouth accepted her eagerly and his hands slid down her sides to cup her buttocks and press her up against the bulge in his jeans. She felt a quickening between her t
highs, and warmth spread throughout her limbs. Her breath came in shallow gasps as he released her.

  “I wasn't sure you'd come by tonight,” she said as she pulled away from him and he patted her butt. She filled a mug from the coffee maker and handed it to him.

  He took it and sat in a kitchen chair, downing a large swallow. He leaned back and smiled with a wink. “You knew.”

  “No, I didn't know, but I'm glad you're here.”

  “So am I or I wouldn't be.”

  “How are things going?”

  He shrugged, unwilling to talk about what worried him right then.

  “The Rose was a madhouse tonight, but Dylan let me off early.” She proceeded to tell him about Jack Sandler.

  “You never should have gone out with that bottom rat in the first place.”

  “I never really knew Jack and it's been six years. I guess I thought he'd changed. He seemed nice enough sober.”

  Mace took another large swallow of coffee.

  “I don't know what you do to it, but you make the best coffee I've had in years.”

  She reached for his mug. “More?”

  His eyes were smoky and he shook his head.

  She smiled. “Me?”

  “That's what I came for, darlin.”

  Crude, but the truth. Talley stepped into the deep vee of his legs and they kissed long and hard. Mace's hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs tracing lazy circles over her nipples. Shivers ran through her body, and she threaded her fingers through the long waves of brown hair salted with gray. When the kiss ended, she trailed her fingertips over his weatherworn face.

  “Mace...”

  “Mmmm?”

  She shook her head, her honey-colored hair falling over him. “Nothing. I like saying your name. Mace.”

  His hands slipped off her breasts, meandered down and caught behind her thighs. He heaved her up and closed his legs so that she straddled him. The pressure of his warm bulge and the roughness of his jeans made her ache with the want of him. His hands moved under her nightshirt and spread over her bare bottom.

  He grinned a little, leaned forward, and placed a kiss on the pulse in her throat. “You know, don't you,” he murmured directly into her ear, “that only whores don't wear underpants.”

  She laughed at him and pushed him back. “And how would you know?” she teased, reaching for his belt buckle. His grin widened, but he admitted nothing.

  When his jeans were undone, she pulled his erection free. He was already straight up and reaching for heaven. Talley wrapped her hand around his arousal, moving up and down in the slow motion she knew Mace liked. He groaned and his head fell back against the kitchen wall with a soft thump.

  Need flowed through her and she squirmed in his lap. He pulled her forward until she was pressed against the bunch of his jeans at the base of his zipper where the rest of his bulge was hidden. He rocked her against him, and the tingle reached all the way to her toes.

  Talley stopped with a shudder and a moan when she was close to the edge. Mace moved his hands to her waist and straightened out his legs. She lifted briefly, then sank onto him with a groan, his long length filling her up. With one hand flat on the wall near Mace's head, her other hand pushed aside his denim shirt. She bent her head and swirled her tongue around one flat nipple, bringing it to a hard point, then did the same to the other. Mace's breath escaped in a rush each time.

  Her toes pushed against the floor as Mace's hips surged beneath her. She closed her eyes and her hips quickened with his. Talley tossed back her head and let the warm burst of pleasure wash over her and through her. When it was over, she rested her head on his shoulder. Mace's hands spasmed on her waist, and he grunted as he spilled himself within her.

  When he was still, she removed her hand from the wall and wrapped both arms around him. God, he felt good in her arms, under her body. Every inch of her touched him and she never wanted to let him go.

  “Darlin, that was the best," he murmured and kissed her hair, “but you're gonna break my back.”

  “Oh, Mace, don't make me move.” But she unwound her limbs from him any way, then shivered from the extra ripple of pleasure when he slithered out of her. She straightened her nightshirt and made it to the other chair at the end of the dinette table, her limbs weak and shaky.

  Mace groaned as he sat up, adjusting himself. “Damn, but I'm too old for gymnastics.”

  “Ha!” She laughed. “You did nothing but sit there.”

  “Nothing, huh?” He grinned crookedly as he zipped up. “I seem to recall having a little something to do with your pleasure.”

  She exaggerated a shrug. “Maybe...a little.”

  “Maybe? Little! You're getting awful cocky for a girl.”

  “No,” she assured him and shook her head. “Cockiness is still your territory.”

  He lifted the coffee cup to his lips and winked at her. He took a sip, grimacing. “Cold.”

  “I'll get you some more.”

  He caught her hand as she reached for the cup. His callused fingers played over hers. “You can get me some more coffee, too...in a little while.”

  “You'll be asleep in a little while because I'm going to wear you out.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes, Mace.”

  She turned out the lights as they headed back to her small bedroom. Talley sat in the center of the bed, pulled off her socks, and watched Mace undress. He pulled free what was still tucked in of his shirt, undid the buttons, and let it fall off his lean arms. Talley quickly pulled off her nightshirt and stretched out. Mace toed off his boots, then unzipped and peeled off his jeans, underwear, and socks.

  “Looks like you've done this before, cowboy,” Talley teased.

  “A few times.”

  “A few more times and you might get good at it.”

  “Might?” He pounced on her on all fours, ravishing her belly with kisses.

  “Stop, Mace!” Talley squealed, almost laughing too hard to talk. “You're good, you're very good!”

  He stopped immediately and raised his head. “And when I'm bad I'm better.”

  “No, Mace. When you're bad, you're the best.”

  He kissed her belly one more time then raised to his knees, one on each side of her. Looking down at her, his eyes glittered silvery from the moonlight pouring through the window. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  She writhed against him. “Mmmm, what will it get me tonight?”

  “Laid. Just give me time to recover from sitting in your kitchen chair.”

  “And how long will that take?”

  “Forever, if you just keep staring at it.”

  Talley laughed softly and stretched, drawing her arms above her head. “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “I think,” he said and fell forward, catching his weight on his elbows on each side of her, “I can keep you busy.”

  He dipped his head, his lips surrounding a nipple, his tongue raking the point mercilessly. Talley gasped as a tingle of pleasure settled between her thighs. Her legs shifted restlessly, trapped by Mace's body.

  “Not yet,” he said as his head moved to the other side.

  He gave the same delicious attention to her other breast, bringing it to a raw point, intensifying the tingle into a burn. Her hips raised toward him on their own, but he ignored the nudge as his hands slid down her sides and he left a wet meandering trail over ribs, detouring around her navel again and again.

  Talley moaned when he moved lower, quivering where he touched. She wiggled free of his weight, but only because he was ready for her to spread for him.

  She reached for him, expecting him to crawl into her arms, anxious for him to settle his body against hers and carry her away. Instead, his arms slipped behind her thighs and cocked her legs around his shoulders. His hands slid around her hips, fingers splayed across her skin between her and the bed beneath.

  “Mace?” she whispered, hardly able to breathe as he dragged his tongue
up along the inside of one thigh and down the other.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured, his lips and tongue now busy with something else besides talking.

  “Oh Mace...”

  Talley lay back, closed her eyes, and let Mace have his way with her. His tongue teased her, flicking all around the spot where she wanted it most. She moved her hips a little, hoping to catch him off guard, but his hands tightened their hold, keeping her in place.

  She sighed and relaxed and that's when Mace marked the spot. She thrust forward, gently at first, then faster as Mace kept time with her rhythm. A whimper started in her throat, then turned into something more primal as her back arched and her legs tightened around Mace and her fingers clenched the headboard as she came.

  Mace's tongue stroked her a few more times as the last of her climax dissolved, then kissed the inside of each thigh. He waited until she had regained her senses and eased her legs from his shoulders before raising up and sitting back on his heels.

  Talley hadn't wanted to move, enjoying the thought of Mace trapped between her thighs, but knew she had to let him go eventually. Let him go...

  Her eyes fluttered open and she watched him as he wiped his mouth with her nightshirt.

  Touching her intimately in that way, Mace forged a bond between them Talley had never shared with another man. She didn't know if Mace felt the same way, probably not, and she didn't have the courage to ask. Instead, she held out her arms to him. He dropped the nightshirt and crawled up over her.

  He surrounded her with his long, strong arms. “Did that keep you busy enough?”

  Talley smiled against the rough day's growth of his beard. “Hmmm, a little.”

  He groaned and shook his head, the shaggy ends of his hair tickling her nose.

  “I reckon you want this, huh,” he said and slid into her.

  She was still wet and soft and his hips pressed into hers firmly. He lifted enough to enfold his fingers with hers and raise them above her head. As he reared over her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and enjoyed the way he moved in and out with clean, hard strokes. Thoroughly satisfied, she wasn't caught up in the mindless act, but was aware of every place he touched her body, inside and out, where his hardness touched her softness, from his callused hands to his lean ribcage to his rigid length within her.