A Field Guide To Catching Crickets: ( a sexy second chance tearjerker romance )

by Unknown

  When we pull up behind the cabins, I catch Sloan wringing her hands. The anticipation of reclaiming us likely weighs heavily on her as it does on me. Attempting to remember the good stuff, and also making ourselves forget the pain. We need new pathways and windows to open up, things that’ll help create a brand-new us. We near the end of the fragrant path that separates our cabins as I wind my fingers through Sloan’s.

  “Your place or mine?” I ask as a swirl of bugs flies in circles around the cabin light while she shuffles her foot in the pea gravel. My eyes wander to the small, wooden sign with her name carved into it hanging on the screen door.

  After a few delayed seconds, she answers, “Mine. I need to check in on School Bus.”

  I peek over at the lake, eyeing up the full moon that’s dancing in a long, glittering streak across the water as she walks in front of me. The screen door creaks, prompting me to throw my arm out to stop the slam.

  With a smile on her lips she says, “Sleeping,” while peering at the duckling. Her face is lit from the red heat lamp she’s jury-rigged over the box.

  “Sweet. You’re a good mama.”

  Sloan snaps her eyes up to mine, an odd expression falling over her face. Something about the way her lips slump into a lopsided frown seems wrong. Why are my insides buzzing when hers look stalled? She saunters away wordlessly then riffles through the kitchen cupboards as I watch the duckling sleep and, I think, snore.

  “Hey, come here.” Sloan tips her head, motioning for me. She’s holding a smallish basket filled with candles and a box of matches. This, along with the flirty smile forming on the corner of her mouth, says good things are coming.

  “So…” I stand in front of her, neither of us taking the first step toward her bedroom. “Why don’t you take a stab at translating exactly what it is you want tonight? I don’t want to push you.”

  “You. Me. Naked.”

  I grin and adjust my groin. “So you can speak ‘guy.’”

  “Fluently, as a matter of fact.”

  We stroll into her room, my arms around her waist, moving us as one.

  “I want to make love to you,” I say against the curve of her neck. “Sweet love.”

  Sloan looks over her shoulder at me. “I feel lucky to be with you again.” She glances at my smile and sets the basket down then grabs a few candles.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” I take the box of matches and follow her around, lighting each candle she places around the room. “I hope that doesn’t run out.”

  “Me or the luck?” she says, placing the last candle on her nightstand.

  I walk over to light it. Then I blow the match out, all the while watching Sloan fiddle with a chunk of her hair. “Both.”

  A shy look hits her face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

  “C’mere, you sexy thing, don’t you go getting shy now.”

  Sloan inhales a deep breath and I go in for a bottomless kiss. Her exhalation fills my lungs. Our mouths instinctively move together. Wet heat slides over plump slipperiness. I can’t get her close enough to me. Hell if I don’t try, though. With one hand sliding onto her lower back, I pull her hips hard against mine, showing her what she’s doing to me. My other hand grips a fistful of her hair so I can direct her head and give her all of me.

  “Jesus, Sloan, I want to lick you where you want it the most. Tell me you want that. Tell me where.”

  She answers with a moan into my mouth. Not even God’s hands could touch our passion. Our kiss is a concentrated version of lust, a decade of want and need. A letter that’s been sealed finally being opened. The words written on the inside are all the ingredients of who we are. Our hunger rocks in hot sparks as we grunt out words in fiery machine-gun rounds of desire.

  “I got it bad for you.” I groan through messy licks, the thrust of her hips colliding with mine, driving my need. I find the zipper at the back of her dress and drag it, slow as honey dripping down a spoon, a contrast to the race inside my heart. “Need you. Want you. Bad.”

  “Hawke,” she says into my ear as she grips my hair.

  “You okay if I…” I finger her dress over the edge of her shoulders.

  She nods. The dress pools around her feet, and she steps out of it, kicking it aside along with her shoes. Her nipples go from soft buds to hard pebbles as she unbuttons my shirt while looking up at my face.

  “You have a beast in you right now.”

  “A dirty fuck beast that is doing all it can to get inside you,” I answer, flashing her a grin. My hands follow the line of her silken shoulders down to her biceps then onto her small, pert breasts.

  I palm and squeeze her soft mounds. She bridges the gap between us and falls into my hands.

  “You want my dirty fuck beast?” My lips crash onto her throat as she looks up at me. I suck it with kisses then nibbles. I’d eat her whole if I could.

  “Yeah. Keep kissing me like that.”

  I groan against her skin. “You gonna let me make love to you?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “You want me to use something? I don’t want you worrying about anything.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  I roll and pinch her nipples, remembering how it made her crazy. My dick thickens as her mouth contorts, shoulders fall, and breathing escalates. How many times have I played this scene over in my head? How many times did I wish on my wishes she would come back to me, into my hands, into my life?

  “Cricket.” I kneel, looking up at her as I hold her tiny waist in my hands. “I don’t want to taste regret on your lips in the morning. You sure you don’t need more time to think this through?”

  “I’m sure, because I know at least one thing.” Her eyes glitter as she rubs her thumb over my bottom lip.

  “What’s that?”

  “I love you, with all of me. Even though I’m still trying to figure out part of me.”

  “I love you too. I’m trying to see everything about you. Even the invisible stuff. I can still see you shining in the dark, and whatever it is you’re trying to figure out, I’m here.”

  I drag my stubbled jaw across the planes of her stomach, and her muscles contract beneath my face. “God, you’re beautiful.” She moves her legs apart, as my palms slide up the supple flesh of her thighs, landing between them. Her chest fills with deep breaths as a teasing smile crosses her face.

  “So long…I’ve wanted… I…need,” she mumbles, but nothing close to a sentence that makes any sense.

  I know exactly what she’s saying though. Stroking two fingers through her silken lips as our eyes stay pinned, I tell her, “Darlin’, you’re wet as fuck. I’m aching to be in you. Shit, girl…I just need to taste you first.”

  She melts all over me, her hands in my hair, on my face, on my shoulders. As she closes her eyes, I dip my fingers into her, seeking every pleasure point inside and out, knowing I’ve found them all by the whimpers floating from her lips.

  “Look at me like you remember who we were.”

  Our eyes meet. In them, I see the universe I know and all of its truths.

  “Hawke.”

  “Now, look at me like you know who we are. Right now, tonight, and going forward.” And I see it.

  Question, guilt, and a mix of emotions I’m not familiar with.

  “Something in there is different.” I slow my fingers while she grinds against my hand and grips my shoulders. “I want to know what it is at some point. I need to know you can trust me with whatever it is you’re going through.”

  She nods.

  “Lie back.”

  She sits and leans on her elbows, a smile in her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  “Trust me?” She rims her mouth, her wet tongue making my dick twitch. Gripping her hips, I drag her ass to the edge of the bed. “Spread them,” I say with my hands sliding up her legs. But she pulls her thighs back and presses her knees together, her fingers meeting mine. She always was shy about me looking, but I need to see her before I put my mout
h on her. “Let me? I want to see you.” She sucks her bottom lip, as I press her thighs apart. A deep blush hits her cheeks as her eyes search my face, then she looks at my thumbs parting her open.

  She tilts her head back and the tiniest smile forms at the corner of her open mouth as she nods. For a few seconds I gaze at her beautiful, wet, pussy, the anxious rise and fall of her chest not escaping my eye. “I want to look at every inch of you, don’t be shy with me.”

  “I want…” She looks across the room and winces, then her eyes find mine seconds later and they’re soft. “I want it too.” She opens her legs farther and her hands slide down her chest across her nipples, until they rest inside her thighs as she lies back. And fuck, she’s beautiful. Slick drips slide between her cheeks, making my mouth water.

  I drape her open legs onto my shoulders, planning to remind her why she’s with me in the candlelit darkness and what she’s been missing for a damn long time.

  There are things you never forget in life no matter how much time has passed or what you’ve been through. Smells, tastes, the feel of something in your hand or on your tongue, the way something was said to you, how something looked in the morning sunlight or in the shimmer of the night sky. Senses have a memory that must be older than time, more aware than nature herself, more receptive than the moon’s pull on the Earth and the tides.

  With my palms pressing her thighs farther open, I nestle my face into her warm, wet crease.

  “So perfect. I’ve never forgotten.” I open her lips to my tongue. Soft, wet, swollen.

  She mutters out a few desirous words in answer, though her body language is telling a library full of stories about how I’m making her feel.

  Propping herself up on her elbows, she studies me as my tongue circles in slow movements, tasting what I missed for too many years.

  “You feel that, how tight you are when I… Jesus.” With deep licks, I slide my fingers inside her.

  She answers, “Yeah, that.” Her head thrown back, moans falling out, hands fist the sheets at her thighs as she bucks into my mouth. Christ, she’s sexy. Fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  “When my cock gets in you, you’re gonna remember everything about us.” I penetrate her with deep long strokes as her juices coat my hand. “That’s the spot for you, isn’t it?” She arches her back and her thighs shake. “Same spot it’s always been.”

  I explore her with my one hand, stretching her, knowing she may not remember my girth. Not to mention my length. She swells under my tongue, and I spread her wider, exposing everything to my mouth.

  “Good?” I ask, sliding my wet fingers over the planes of her stomach to reach her breasts.

  She begs me not to stop—not that I could. Or ever will be able to. Yesterday and today collide as Sloan lets herself go.

  “I won’t stop until you come all over my face. Keep going, Sloan, fuck my face.”

  As I’m working myself into a fit thinking about it, she breaks in a beautiful, full-bodied moan. Her hips buck in rolls and undulating thrusts. She falls back on the bed, throwing her hands behind her head as she gasps. A deep, final cry vibrates through me, clinging to every ounce of testosterone surging through my body.

  “Holy smokes.” She looks me over with a sated smile. “Have you got a tongue. Maybe I don’t remember but…whoa.”

  “My ego loves you.” I chuckle as I work my pants and briefs to the floor.

  “Your ego is going to get fat if you keep eating me like that.”

  I clutch the root of my cock and stroke the length, spreading pre-come over the tip. “Then you’ll have to stop feeding it with your delicious pussy.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” she says, sitting up.

  I push her back down then hook my hands under her arms, moving her farther back onto the bed. She opens her thighs, and I settle myself right there. Home.

  “Hey, Cricket.” I rest above her on my elbows.

  “Yeah?” she answers back with a sleepy smile on her face.

  “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna help you.” I kiss her beautiful face. The face I’ve seen in every dream for years on end.

  “You’re assuming a lot.” Her tiny voice bangs into my heart.

  “You don’t trust me with that part?”

  “Well, you might be able to help me.” She pauses. The words seem to sting her lips, which she bites into. “But you have no idea what that’ll do to you in the process.” Her eyes shift away from mine. Then she pins them shut.

  “Hey, look at me. I’ll take that chance.” I guide myself into her the tiniest bit.

  Her eyes find me again. “That’s a big chance,” she says after a gasp as I push my way in, inch by inch, waiting for her to accept me.

  She holds her breath for what feels like a very long time.

  “Hey, breathe, sweetheart. Relax and breathe.”

  We gaze into each other’s eyes. She’s my dreamland. I know I’m big, and I know what it does if a woman’s not used to my size. They freeze and tighten up, can’t relax.

  “Oh my God…you are… I don’t know if I can…”

  “Breathe, your body knows mine. Your heart knows mine.”

  Her eyes are wide, mouth wet and open, lips shaking, heart pounding like mad. She’s nerves and no reason; she’s lust and wanting. I’m a craving mess of lips and tongue, hands and heartbeats. My hips find the rhythm of hers, breaths matching breaths.

  “There you are. I need to be closer to your mouth, your air.” I’m lost in her. I knew I would be.

  I knew, of all the changes we’d feel, one thing wouldn’t budge: Our ability to get lost in each other. Except, in reality, it has. It’s more. We’re adults now. Uninhibited, hungrier than ever, experienced, with a pent-up ache that’s being soothed and solved like nobody’s business. We’re stained by each other and our combined past. Both of us seek the ink of our future, no doubt wondering what sorts of stories will unfold after tonight.

  One thing is for certain: She’s the storm and I’m the calm.

  Lord almighty, he is something to watch. Moving into me like a god taking over a sea. The confidence of a herd of rutting bucks.

  “Sloan… Fuck, you feel good.”

  A sound trips out from the back of his throat, an eruption of raspy breaths following it.

  “You okay? Gotta tell me, or I won’t be able to stop.”

  I arch into him, our hips rocking, his rigid cock piercing me, feeling like a loaded gun about to go off. The urgency of his lips slides over me, my neck, his dirty whispers in my ear, then the way he sucks my breasts, bridging his body down to reach them, to lick and bite me there.

  “Spread wider. That better?”

  I open my legs, and he presses my thighs back.

  “Oh my God, Hawke.”

  “I know, and, girl, you’re tight, and damn, are you wet.”

  “Hawke…that’s it. Don’t stop.” I tighten around him, a deep rumble coming from my throat.

  “I won’t, couldn’t for anything.”

  He’s beautifully chiseled—all of him. His face is more angular now that he’s grown into himself. He owns the word man as if it had been created for him. I honestly don’t know where to look—his chest, which undulates with hard muscles as he pumps himself into me, or his bulging arms, which are wet with perspiration as he takes me over with movements that make me feel as if he loves me more than life itself.

  Sometimes, we’re silent—just movement. Then we break the silence with sounds that chase each other. A million words are in our unblinking gaze, and a million more are in the unknown promise that hangs in the thickness of the space around us. He’s giving me everything, and even when I think that’s it, that he couldn’t possibly have more, he does. He gives me more.

  “Hold my arms. That’s it. Sloan…fuck. There you are.”

  I gasp for air. Whimpers and groans—mine and his—come faster. He pushes my thighs farther apart, and I grab him like he asked. The two of us feel permanently conjoin
ed in every possible way. All of my broken parts are suddenly fixed, even if temporarily. Maybe he can help me be okay.

  I come, my insides twisted. Toes curled. Body tightening, holding on to my orgasm as long as I can. Then that energy finds its way out in screams and gasps that have him giving me his all. It seems like more than an orgasm, and I knew it would be. You can’t just climax with a guy like Hawke Slater, who gives you every ounce of his being. Climax would be like saying it’s raining when actually it’s a tsunami.

  He rocks into me, finding his orgasm. Memories flood through me as his eyes close, his head falls back, while his mouth forms the wordless shapes of release, pleasure, and, finally, contentment.

  “I don’t know what to say.” His raspy voice butters me as he rolls half off my body.

  “You just said everything I was hoping to hear—plus a little more. I remember us. But this, what we just did? You really are an exquisite fuck, m’man.”

  He chuckles at my gushing admission. I have nothing to hide. Now, anyways.

  “And you, woman, are one fine lay.”

  His mouth finds my lips for a warm, sex-smelling kiss as he skates his fingers up my belly then through the sweaty sheen that’s settled between my breasts. “I’m hot as all get-out. Want to go skinny-dippin’ then camp on the beach? Full moon night.”

  “I’m in. I’ll grab the quilts. You grab a six from the fridge.”

  “We’re not done yet, you know,” he says, pinning me down.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured this was just a start.”

  “To everything,” he answers as he lifts me off the bed and carries me into the kitchen.

  I peek in on School Bus, to see her sleeping on her back. For a quick second, I panic, thinking she’s dead. No, she’s snoring, thank God! This lump of fuzz is a riot.

  We grab quilts, towels, beer, and some chips before heading out to the beach. After laying a bed out for ourselves, Hawke lights the campfire I stacked earlier in the day with hopeful intentions. I’m not sure what’s burning brighter: the fire, or our combined happiness.