by Tessa Layne
“Good thinking.”
CHAPTER 12
She glowed like Aphrodite in the moonlight, a goddess in white. “Wait.” She stepped back then shimmied out of her dress, laying it on the ground.
Jason’s mouth went dry at the sight of her, golden curls reflecting silver. “If I was a painter, you’d be my muse.”
Raising her hands high, she spun once, twice. Her siren call was so powerful, he suddenly understood why Odysseus lashed himself to the mast of his ship. He would follow her to hell and back.
Slowly sinking to the ground, she stretched out on her dress, resting on her elbows. He dropped to his knees. Tits or pussy? He didn’t know where to start.
Her mouth dropped open slightly, tongue slowly slicking her lower lip. “Tits first, then pussy.” The corner of her mouth tilted up and she dropped her knees open, giving him a full view of her full, wet lips.
Christ, had he said that out loud? He needed to up his game. But if that’s what she wanted, he wasn’t about to deny her. Settling himself between her legs, he hovered over her, taking her mouth slowly. He slid his tongue against hers, thrusting, tasting, eating at her until she whimpered. “This is how I’m going to eat you until you come.”
She whimpered again, clasping his neck and arching into him.
“Hands above your head,” he said with a rough edge. He wanted to devour every inch of her, give her the same mind-blowing pleasure she’d given him weeks ago, and that kept him up at night. Lowering his head, he kissed her again, acquainting himself with every corner of her mouth, kissing her so thoroughly that she writhed beneath him.
His cock strained against his cargoes, painfully hard. Just from a kiss. Slowly, painstakingly, he licked and nipped, sucked and tasted her neck, her collarbone, until he reached the swell of her beautifully perky breasts. Millie’s breath came in short, sharp gasps as he lightly grazed the swell with the back of a finger. Her dusky nipples tightened to hard peaks, flesh pumping from arousal. He rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching until she arched into his hand with a cry. “So responsive,” he murmured, taking a tight bud into his mouth, licking and sucking as her hips rocked in an ancient rhythm.
“Ohmygod, I think I might come from this,” she cried, tossing her head.
“Hold on,” he ordered.
“I don’t think I can.”
“Try, Millie. There’s so much more pleasure waiting for you.”
She lifted her head, eyes blazing. “Then give it to me now.”
His chest shook. He fucking loved her enthusiasm.
“As you wish my lady.” He returned to her mouth, kissing her deeply. “Just a reminder of what’s coming next.”
She moaned, opening her legs farther.
Moving down her body, he paused over her pussy, captivated by the shape of it. Her thatch of curls was as wild as she was, and her pussy lips glistened, engorged with her arousal. With a satisfied sigh he lowered his head, tongue sliding between her wet folds to lap her slick heat. At first contact, her hips bucked and she cried out, clutching at his head.
“Hands above your head.”
With a whimper, she complied.
He lapped again, tongue diving into the heart of her, then swiping up to her clit, circling and sucking, taking her pussy in the same slow manner he’d taken her mouth.
She tasted of summer and salt, days at the beach, and sweet flowers. He would die a happy man knowing he’d tasted heaven on earth. She rolled her hips, pressing into his mouth, silently begging for more. Spreading her pussy lips wider, he tasted all of her, thrusting deep into her channel, nearly coming himself when her walls contracted around him. He groaned, devouring her like she was his last meal, squeezing her ass and burying himself in her scent.
With a long shudder and a wild cry, she let go, wave after wave of ecstasy wracking her body, and still he tasted her, relentless in his ministrations until at last she went limp.
“What was that?” she asked, dazed.
“Just the beginning.” He pulled out a condom and quickly sheathed himself, staying on his knees and drawing her hips upward. With a quick thrust, he buried himself, balls deep in her tight heat.
“Touch yourself, Millie. Help me make you come.”
Her hand flew to her clit, rubbing in circles as he thrust deeply into her over and over. He could tell the second her orgasm began to build again, as she clenched around him in quick bursts, hips rolling in a circle.
His own orgasm began to build, coiling at the base of his spine and rising like a cobra in the jungle. The urge to drill into her, to empty himself fully inside her, was powerful. But he wanted her to go with him, to die the thousand little deaths that Shakespeare described.
With each thrust, she whimpered, pussy growing tighter as she moved closer. He added his thumb to her work at her clit, following her lead, alternately brushing and pressing, stroking and letting the energy coil and build. As soon as she cried out and shudders consumed her, he picked up his pace, thrusting mercilessly, like a rutting bull, and followed her into bliss, mind exploding with such intensity his vision grayed. He thrust and thrust, milking every second of the sensation until he was wrung out, spent, and utterly lost.
Millie Prescott had ruined him. He would never be the same again.
CHAPTER 13
Millie stretched beside Jason, burrowing into his warm body. A rooster crowed in the barnyard, and at the edge of the vineyard a cardinal started his early morning wake-up song. Overhead, the moon glowed pale and gold in the west as a line of paler blue stained the eastern horizon. “Can I make you some coffee before you go?”
Jason sat up and rolled his shoulders, and she followed suit, secretly ogling him. There was no softness to his body, just ripples and ridges of work-hardened muscles. “I’d love that.”
She studied their work from last night. They’d pruned about twenty-five percent, and the difference was obvious. Jason’s expertise made all the difference. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Millie said, tilting her head at the vines. “It didn’t hurt like I thought it would.” She rested her chin on her knees. Nothing settled her like pre-dawn in the Flint Hills. Everything stilled, as if holding its breath for the moment the sun burst over the horizon, a harbinger of a glorious new day. Her lungs filled with the scent of dew on dirt.
“Pruning?”
She nodded, studying an ant as it scurried through the dirt.
“Who’s going to help you finish?”
She shrugged. He’d already helped her enough, and she didn’t want to impose. “I’m going to collect eggs and open up the market. One of the high school girls is minding the shop today, so I’ll come home and take a nap, then ask dad to help me.
“And will he?”
She looked at him sharply. “Why wouldn’t he?”
He looked chagrined. “Sorry. Knee jerk reaction.”
“Your family wouldn’t help you?” How was that possible? How could a person say no when they were asked for help? People just didn’t do that. Not at her house, not in Prairie.
“Needing help was always a weakness.” He laughed and shook his head. “Part of why the military was a good fit.”
“But a good soldier always knows when to ask for help.”
He flashed her a grin, teeth glowing in the half-light. “You’ve been listening to Travis.”
“Travis came in and asked for cooking help when he first liked Elaine.”
“No kidding?”
She nodded. “It was so sweet, too. He was so nervous, wanting to do a good job, but not knowing how to make more than coffee.”
“That does seem to be an issue with many of us.”
He drew a finger down her cheek. “Would you help me? Teach me how to cook?”
“Well I’m not Jamey Sinclaire, but I make a decent spaghetti, and pretty good tofu.” She smirked, thinking back to an earlier conversation.
“What about bacon?”
“Nope. Salad?”
“Rabbit food.”
His shoulders shook. “Okay. You win. But I’m bringing steaks. Do you have a grill?”
“Dad does, he can bring it over to my patio.”
“Great. How does six sound? I can grill steak, you can show me the rest.”
“Is this a date?”
The funniest expression came over his face. Like he’d just swallowed a spider. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
It shouldn’t be a big deal, he was just offering to bring steaks, but Millie’s heart fluttered all the way to her toes. Jason Case had asked her on a date. But what about her dad? She bit back a resigned sigh. Date or no, she wouldn’t leave her father in the lurch. “Do you mind if there’s a third wheel? Dad’s lonely. I usually share dinner with him.”
“Does he eat steak?”
“Medium rare.”
“It’s a date.”
CHAPTER 14
“Jason, hold up,” Sterling called from the front steps of the foreman’s house.
Jason paused, hand on the door of his truck. “‘Sup?”
Sterling loped over, then stopped short when he reached the truck, letting out a slow whistle. “Millie?” he asked with a smirk, eyeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Jason shook his head. “Not a fucking word.”
“You been reading for tips in those books?”
There was a time when he wouldn’t have let the dig pass without a witty comeback, but not today. “Maybe?” he quipped, reaching in to lay the flowers on the passenger seat next to the bag of groceries filled with steaks, a loaf of ciabatta, and a bottle of Case reserve.
Sterling peered inside the cab. “Holy smokes, bro. Deny if you like, but you’re fucking in love. I thought you were running errands for Travis in Manhattan this afternoon.”
“I was.”
“You just decided to make a few extra stops?”
“Something like that.”
Sterling clapped him on the shoulder. “Good on you.” He tightened his grip, face becoming serious. “Millie’s sweet. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Only a rattlesnake,” he mumbled under his breath.
“I’m serious, man. Don’t dick her over. If you’re not into her, stop it before it starts.”
“And what if I am?”
“Into her?” Sterling broke into a smile. “Then go for it. And don’t be a dick.”
“Roger that.” Jason nodded and hopped into the truck, as Sterling stepped back with a wave.
His thoughts tumbled like river rocks on the drive over. He was into Millie, alright. But was it really a date if her dad joined them? He’d called it a date, half-teasing her. What if it was more like dinner between friends? And he just happened to enjoy kissing one of the friends? The only night he’d had dinner with Ronnie and her father was the night he’d proposed, fresh out of West Point and wet behind the ears. Her father was as much of an asshole as his own. He’d grown up thinking everyone hated their family, but being here in Prairie, and seeing Sterling with his folks, and the tenderness Millie exhibited toward her father, gave him a different idea. But maybe it was him? What if he was the problem?
Pushing away his doubts, he pulled under the arch to Moonbeam Acres. He chuckled as he drove up the long drive. Crazy bunch of hippies, naming their daughter and their farm Moonbeam. A pang of longing twisted behind his sternum. Growing up, he’d had prep school and horseback riding, cotillion and country clubs, and the constant pressure to be perfect. He’d had every advantage, except the one that came from a family who cared.
For a split-second, as he looked across the picturesque farm scene, he could see himself here. In the future. A shiver rippled down his spine. The only place he would be in the future, was Resolution Ranch. That was his new home, his future. With a bunch of messed-up veterans who spoke the same language he did. Not here, in Millie’s magical realm of starlight and pixie dust. So why was it that his heart settled when he was here? How could it be that he felt more like himself, here? It made no sense.
Mike was waiting for him when he exited the truck, with an armful of green things. “Evening, son. Good to see you again.” He eyed the flowers in Jason’s hand, then narrowed his gaze a fraction.
Shit. Had he made a wrong move? He hadn’t intended to bring flowers, but the bouquet had been so whimsical, and the roses reminded him so strongly of Millie, he couldn’t resist. “Sir? Thanks for having me.”
“Nice flowers.”
“I thought Millie would enjoy them.”
“Peonies are her favorite.”
He didn’t even know which ones were the peonies. He’d seen the roses and instantly thought of her perfume. “Good to know. Can I help you carry that?” He nodded at the green stuff.
“The chard?” Mike shook his head. “Nah. I picked the last of it, because the weather’s getting too hot. Millie will cook it up nice tonight.”
Jason fell into step with Mike as they headed across the barn and up the hill through the wide path that divided the vineyards into sections. “So tell me more about Moonbeam Acres?” He’d talked himself out of more than one bar fight by asking questions.
“Charlene, my late wife, was raised here by her Aunt Millie.”
“So that’s where Millie gets her name.”
“Yep. Aunt Millie was a character. Survived the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, and the great floods of ’51. She left us the place when she died, and by that time Millie was a teenager and we wanted something more stable for her.” Mike chuckled. “But she was already too much of a free spirit by then.”
“I’ve never met anyone like her.”
Mike puffed up, pride evident on his face. “Millie’s special. She sees the world differently. Finds beauty in everything, just like her mom. Even in an old grizzled coot like me.” His voice thickened with emotion.
Again, a pang of longing snaked through Jason. He’d grown up with everything. And nothing.
Mike coughed and shook his head. “How’d you lose your leg?”
Jason smiled wryly. “Now I know where Millie gets her directness.”
Mike wheezed out a laugh. “Don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
“I don’t mind. Most people are too chicken to ask.”
“My older brother lost a leg in ‘Nam. Jumped on a grenade to save his buddy.”
“I wasn’t that heroic. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Mike made a sympathetic noise, and they walked in silence the rest of the way to the little geodesic dome perched on the far hill. When they arrived, Millie stood precariously balanced on a step stool, stringing lights across the back patio.
Visions of her falling again raced through his mind. Would she never learn to be careful? Jason placed the grocery sack on the table and hurried over. “Here, let me help.” He reached a hand up to steady her. She wobbled as she placed the light string over a hook that protruded from a tall post planted at the far edge of the patio.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” She turned, beaming down at him.
Jason’s heart fluttered unevenly. Placing her arm on his shoulder, she hopped down, then stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. A kiss that warmed him straight to his toes.
She turned, doing the same thing with her father. “Thanks for joining us, Daddy. Did you have a nice walk up?”
“Yep. Jason’s a good egg.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, pink staining her cheeks. “I think so, too.” She flicked a glance his direction. “Even if he hates tofu.”
Jason bit back a rueful laugh. “Maybe these will make up for it?” He offered her the flowers he still held. The look she gave him as she took the flowers bored straight into his soul, and his breath caught at the intensity of it.
“They’re lovely,” she murmured, blushing more deeply, “I adore peonies.”
If they’d been alone, he’d have pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. And the way her mouth parted slightly made him think she might n
ot object.
Mike coughed. “Why don’t I put the chard inside, and then I’ll get the grill going? Jason, you can help Millie.” He disappeared through the sliding screen door.
Help her he would, just as soon as he took advantage of Mike’s absence. He stepped forward, pulling Millie into his arms. She came willingly, eagerly, tipping up her chin to receive his kiss, opening to his probing question and answering by deepening the kiss. Desire buzzed in his veins. Kissing her chased away his demons, made him believe for a perfect moment that he was whole.
Their breathing was ragged when they broke apart at the sound of the screen door sliding open. “You’re as pretty and pink as those flowers,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“We should get them in water,” she answered, voice husky.
Jason followed her into the kitchen, bringing the grocery sack. The kitchen had a handmade, homey quality, a hodgepodge of what appeared to be reclaimed cabinets, a hand-hewn table, and mosaic tiling. “Your dad build this?”
She nodded. “I helped, too. The summer I was nineteen, mom got sick. So we made this project to stay sane and help mark time. My favorite is the patio.”
“It’s lovely. Very you.”
She tilted her head as she rinsed the chard. “You really like it?”
“It’s unconventional. Like you.” He stepped over to the sink, pulling a stray lock behind her ear, secretly pleased at the goosebumps that swept across her collarbone. He leaned in to nuzzle the hollow at the base of her neck, inhaling her heady scent. “I like how you follow your own drum, Millie. Very much.”
She shivered. “Ohhhhh. You mean–”
Gently, he removed the chard from her hands, and turned her to face him. “I like you, Millie. Very much. And I know I told you I’m not relationship material, but I can’t seem to stay away from you. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Her eyes grew serious. “I like you, too.” She stepped back, putting distance between them.
The urge to follow her punched him in the gut, but he stayed put.
