by Toni Blake
At this, he blew out a long breath. Apparently, she was going to make him say it, straight out. “All right then, Farris—sure. The fact that I might want to get with you again could have something to do with me inviting you.” Then he shook his head and redirected his attention to the road unfurling before them. “Damn—most girls would be happy to hear they were appreciated for their minds and not just their bodies. But not you.” He didn’t get that about her, yet it reminded him once more that she really was a city girl, through and through—with a whole different way of looking at life.
“I like to be appreciated for both, thank you.”
“Fine—you are. I can’t wait to get under your dress. Happy now?”
“Well, not exactly.” She suddenly looked a little unsettled. “Because we, uh, can’t have any more sex.”
His jaw dropped as he stared down at her. Before his eyes narrowed. He spoke slowly. “Then why the hell are you…?”
“What?”
“Looking at me all hot and sexy, and baiting me, making me say I want you?” He arched an accusing brow at her. “You’re a lot of things, Farris, but you’re not a tease.”
In response, she actually looked a little surprised—maybe at herself. “You’re right, I’m not. But…” Then she let out a huff. “It’s like this, Romo. I came back here to pick apples and spend time with Edna—not get mired in some small town affair that’ll have every tongue on the town square wagging. Once was…well, okay, it was undeniably hot. And what happened on the couch was…distraction or something, like you said. But that’s where it has to end. I escaped this place once and never looked back. Now that I’m here…well, I’m just doing my time until I can leave again.”
Huh. Well, Mike could read between the lines easily enough. When all was said and done, she still thought she was too good for Destiny and the people in it. Maybe somewhere along the way, maybe at the park that day, he’d thought he’d seen that changing. But clearly he’d been wrong. “Just one question, Farris. If you’re so ready for this to be over, then why are you still sitting there looking all sexy and wanting?”
“I’m not!” she claimed, clearly trying to appear incensed—but the sexy, wanting part still shone through. “And I don’t. Feel that way, I mean.”
“Liar,” he said softly, eyes back on the road.
“Not,” she argued quietly, simply.
And Mike let it go. But he didn’t believe her for a second. And it pissed him off. All of it.
Hell, there for a minute or two he’d truly thought…well, that there might be something between them. Something…real. And something even…kind of dangerous for him, because he didn’t let himself care for people easily.
So maybe it was best to find out Rachel was still…Rachel. Still looking down her nose at this town—and was she even looking down on him a little, too? He didn’t want to believe that last part, so he decided, for the moment, to give her the benefit of the doubt on that one.
Yet as Mike drove on…aw hell. Despite himself, he was actually getting harder. In his pants. Was it possible that arguing with Rachel Farris had actually increased his erection? Shit—what was that about? From the start, nothing about his reaction to this woman had made sense.
In fact, he was beginning to feel tense now, impatient. Not just in a lusty way, but…maybe he wanted to prove she was lying, that she still wanted him as much as he wanted her. His chest burned with anticipation, and his hands felt itchy—like they should be doing something besides driving. So without much thought, he indulged the urge to lower one to her leg, through her dress.
He waited for her to object, or push it away, but instead, she just drew in her breath, audibly—and it gave him some encouragement.
Enough that he didn’t hesitate to reach down, find her knee beneath the flowered fabric, and slide his palm higher, halfway up her smooth thigh.
“Jesus, Romo, what are you doing?” She sounded breathy, at once defiant and excited—par for the course with Rachel.
He didn’t bother answering, but her question did bring up some realistic concerns. The concession stand had been one thing. He’d thought they were completely alone there. And they hadn’t been out in the bright light of day. And there hadn’t been a party full of people expecting them just a couple of miles farther down the road.
But he’d reached that point—quickly—where his cock was overriding his brain. Which never happened to him. Except with Rachel. Before her, he’d indulged his sexual needs frequently—yet also with some sense, some common reverence. Right now, though, his needs felt insistent. Like they had to be met. And he knew, in his gut, she wouldn’t have the strength to say no.
Although part of him hated this—hated feeling he’d abandoned his better judgment, hated that he was looking past how arrogant and superior she could be. At a moment like this, he felt like he had no control at all. Because he was stroking her inner thigh with his fingertips, turning her breath thready next to him, and his erection felt impossibly huge, like it would burst his zipper.
And then he was…homing in on Carl Dobbins’ barn up ahead, to one side of the road, the big doors wide open today—but there was no sign of anyone in the surrounding hay fields other than a few grazing cows, and no trucks or tractors or other signs of people around.
And then he was putting on his turn signal.
And pulling off onto the dirt wagon trail.
And…easing the Caddy right into the barn.
And he was hating himself for his weakness. But it was a hate laced with the most wild, intense need he’d ever suffered. He couldn’t get the car into park fast enough.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she murmured again.
She sounded understandably confused, and when he looked down at her, now in the shade with bits of shadow playing about her face, for some reason, he saw something new in her eyes, something he’d never seen before. Vulnerability. And he realized he was right, there was more to her—even if she didn’t know he could see it.
“Proving you won’t turn me down,” he said, the urgency hitting him full force now that the decision had been made. “’Cause I gotta have you, honey.”
And with that, he reached under the wide front seat to move it back slightly, then reached for her, planting his hands on her hips and lifting her over into his lap until she was straddling him, just like in the concession stand.
She sucked in her breath at the contact, and their eyes met, and it was that easy—she wasn’t saying no.
“Um, Mike…” she murmured instead. Her voice came all feathery and soft, like always when she was aroused—but she was looking around the barn. Fresh hay billowed from the lofts above, the pungent sweet scent permeating the air, and empty stalls and farm implements surrounded them on the earthen floor. Without the sun, the air was slightly cooler, but that was good since he was already too hot. “Isn’t this illegal or something?”
Christ—she had to pick now to start worrying about the law? He lowered his hands to her ass, pressing her very center against his raging hard-on. They both let out long, low moans at the connection, and as a fresh heat stretched all through him, he growled an answer. “Yes, damn it. It’s trespassing.”
“Oh,” she murmured, her breath going beautifully ragged as they began to move together, grinding.
Heat spread outward from his groin, and it felt so good he went a little lightheaded. Then a hot groan echoed from his throat as he massaged her round bottom and began nibbling at her breast through her dress and bra.
“You’re…actually breaking the law?” she asked, still all breathy and sexy. She obviously understood that he just didn’t do that. Until now.
“Looks that way,” he said, not wanting to be reminded. He couldn’t think clearly—right now he just needed to feel her where she was warm and wet.
Gathering the dress in his fists until he got underneath, he found lace—and let his fingers drift over it, between her legs. Her head dropped back in pleasure, and she purred, “Ohh
hh,” fueling him all the more. As if he needed to be fueled.
Using his other hand, he curled his fingers around the lace and pulled it aside, then slid his touch right back where it had just been. Only now he found what he’d been seeking. Warmth. Moisture. Awww…
“Just…when you think…you know somebody…” she murmured, moving against his fingertips.
Christ—she was still talking about this?
He quit being so irritated, though, when she finally reached down to start working at his jeans. A few seconds later, his erection sprung free, into her hand, and she peered down at it, looking as completely enraptured as he wanted her to be.
“I just have to ask…” she began then in a whisper.
Damn it, what now? Yet then she squeezed, beginning to massage him in her fist, in the same rhythm he used to stroke between her legs, and he couldn’t hold in his groan. God, yes.
“Since when you do break the law?” she rasped. “What the hell’s gotten into you, Officer Romeo?”
Jesus—they had to discuss it now? Really?
“You, damn it,” he bit off sharply, meeting her gaze. “For God’s sake, woman, you make me crazy.”
Then he positioned her the way he wanted her, pressed her hips firmly downward, and suffered an almost brutal pleasure as she sheathed his painfully hard cock. The deep groan echoing through the barn came all the way from his gut.
Pure bliss was his. Finally. Not that it had been so long since he’d been like this with her—a couple of weeks ago. But it felt a hell of a lot longer.
Sweet sounds of utter abandon erupted from her lips, as well, which drew his eyes there again, and made him kiss her. She kissed him back, and he pressed his tongue into her mouth.
A powerful pleasure swirled through Mike’s body as he thrust up into her, pleased that he’d finally shut her up. Even when they stopped kissing, she didn’t resume talking, but simply gazed down at him, her eyes brimming with heat.
Yeah, this was more like it. No more talk about lawbreaking or not having sex, no more clothes between their bodies. At least not where it counted the most. He molded her breasts in his hands even though he couldn’t get to them completely, and when he felt her nipples through the layers of fabric, he leaned in to bite gently. “Ohhhh…” she moaned, and the sensual sound permeated him.
Within moments, Mike forgot all about where they were or where they were supposed to be going. There was only Rachel’s soft flesh, taking him to heaven. There was only Rachel herself, driving him as crazy as ever—if it wasn’t with her smart mouth, it was with her perfect body. Damn, seemed he couldn’t find a moment’s peace with this woman one way or the other. But he must not have minded too much, or he wouldn’t be here with her right now.
Soon, Rachel’s sobs of pleasure grew more urgent, and then quick, choppy—and Mike knew she would come soon. And hell, he loved that. In a way he’d never loved it with a woman before. It just excited him more, moved him more, than he could even make sense of.
He never planned to whisper to her, but it just came out. “I want to make you come, honey. I want to make you come so hard.”
“Ohhhh,” she moaned wildly again, arching against him—and then, “Oh, oh, God—yes.” After which he witnessed her toppling over the edge of ecstasy, her head falling back once more, her moans actually quieter now but more guttural, coming from someplace deep.
He tried his damnedest not to explode until she was done—he didn’t want to decrease her pleasure in any way—but he was on the edge, too. This was different than in the concession stand—when he’d retained at least a little control over the sex itself, when he’d been able to go slowly, make her come twice. This was…this was eating him alive.
“Oh, Mike, that was nice,” she practically purred, smiling gently, suddenly the sweet, sexy Rachel he’d seen only glimpses of.
But damn it, he couldn’t savor it. Because—“Shit, honey, I can’t stop,” he managed between clenched teeth. And then…it was as if the old metaphor of fireworks was real. As he pumped up into her, he shut his eyes and saw different colors, the pleasure pummeling him, owning him, forcing his erection deep into her warmth again and again, almost of its own volition.
When it was done, he felt more spent than ever in his life. Police academy had been easier on his body than this. He simply slumped back into the seat with Rachel still atop him. He wasn’t one of those guys who usually fell asleep after sex, but he suddenly understood the urge since it threatened now—a sexual exhaustion so complete he’d never experienced anything like it.
A moment later, Rachel’s warm breath came on his ear. “Mike?”
He had just enough strength to muster a response. “Hmm?”
“Okay, just checking. There for a minute I was afraid maybe I killed you.”
Her typical arrogant humor—which matched his own, he supposed—was enough to bring him back to life, squeeze a grin from him. Then he opened his eyes. “You’re damn good, Farris,” he said teasingly, “but not that good.”
Wow. She’d tried. She really had. She’d tried her damnedest to get back that part of herself she feared she was losing here—but now she was afraid she’d just lost it a little more. His mere touch had simply been too powerful.
“So, what now?” she asked, seated beside him again in the car, her underwear back in place.
“Uh, we go to Grandma Romo’s party,” he said, zipping up.
She blinked. “Just like that?”
“Just like what?”
“Well, aren’t you going to give me a hard time, shove it down my throat about how easy I gave in right after I told you we couldn’t do that?” She wouldn’t even blame him, in fact. Resistance had been beyond futile.
Yet when Mike lifted his gaze to meet hers, she was surprised at how calm, even somber, he looked. “No,” he said quietly. “But it would be nice if I knew you didn’t…think you’re maybe a little too good for me.”
She pulled in her breath. Oh God, he thought that was the problem? “Mike, no.” And sure, maybe in the beginning she’d thought he was some blowhard, small time cop, even if he was sexy as hell—but now she couldn’t deny that he was smart, and funny, and…well, maybe she even thought he was pretty darn strong, knowing what he’d gone through in his youth. And yeah, she’d had plenty of moments when she’d looked down on Destiny—but never him. She grabbed his hand, shook her head. “I swear. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
How could she explain? She let out a breath—and tried. “It’s this place, this town.” She shook her head helplessly. “It’s making me a little crazy.”
Mike let out a sigh. “I need more to go on, Rachel.”
So she bit her lip and tried harder, reached deeper into the truth, even though it was difficult to let herself confide in him so unexpectedly. “I…really did see leaving here after high school as an escape. And I’ve worked hard to build a life I’m proud of in Chicago.” She struggled to find more words, more explanation, and finally she came back to what she’d realized at the park last weekend. “Somehow, being back here just makes me feel…like I’m going backward in life. Does that make any sense?”
“Not much,” he said, still unsmiling, his eyes seeming to probe hers. “Unless…you’re afraid something might happen to make you end up staying here.”
At which she gasped. It was an absurd thought. “No. No—there’s nothing that could.”
An expression she couldn’t read passed briefly over his face—before he tilted his head toward hers. “Then can I give you some advice?”
Advice from Mike Romo. Would wonders never cease? “Okay.”
“Quit taking it all so seriously, for God’s sake.” Then his gaze locked on hers again. “And stop denying you’re into me. It’s silly. Now let’s go have some birthday cake, okay?”
When Grandma Romo’s house came into view down the country road, Mike could see that cars already filled the yard. Every Romo in the county and beyond was here�
��all of Mike’s aunts and uncles and cousins. And, of course, his mom and dad.
As he found a spot to squeeze in the Caddy, he also squeezed Rachel’s knee. “You ready for this, Farris?”
She glanced over at him. “I might be more ready if my name weren’t Farris.”
He gave her a smile. Things had gotten a little intense back in the barn—during the sex, and after it as well, but it was time to move on. “Forget about that today. Your job here isn’t to be a Farris—it’s to get my parents off my back about settling down.”
“As always, Romo, you really know how to romance a girl.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You never strike me as a girl who wants romance.”
“True enough,” she agreed, and for some reason, the response disappointed him a little. That quick, the sweet, vulnerable Rachel was gone. But he truly had come to like this version of her as well—her confidence, her wry wit—so he pushed aside any hint of emotion he felt and prepared for the onslaught of hellos and introductions.
It started with a bunch of kids—his cousin’s children, the ones his own children would’ve been playing with if he had any, and who were probably already reminding his mother of that with their very presence. “Hey, Uncle Mike!” “Wow, look at Uncle Mike’s car,” they called, just the way sixteen-year-old Kristen had addressed him at the donkey ball game, even though he wasn’t really their uncle.
Mike explained to the younger kids that they were actually looking at late Grandpa Romo’s car, from when he first came to America back in the fifties, and then he introduced Rachel. Not one of them batted an eye at her last name being Farris, which told Mike the old feud hadn’t made its way down to the youngest generation of Romos.
Some weird sense of protection compelled him to take Rachel’s hand as he led her up into the yard where the adults milled about, chatting and snacking, and where Grandma Romo sat under a shady maple tree in a white wicker chair, near a table piled with presents. Fortunately, Mike’s mom had offered to add his name to theirs—and Mike figured just bringing a girl to the event was gift enough. Although he feared his grandma might not feel the same way once she found out who he’d brought.
