Games of the Heart

by Kristen Ashley

  I lifted my head and caught his eyes in the moonlight.

  “We can do this.” This time the words were breathy.

  He held my eyes.

  Then he whispered, “Get ready to climb on me, Angel.”

  That was all I needed.

  I rolled off him to the passenger side and made short work of tugging off my boots, my socks and my jeans, multitasking by taking my panties with them. Then I shifted and rolled back noting in my foreplay haze that Mike had got out a condom during my disrobing.

  He was ripping it open. I was yanking at his belt. He slid it out of the packet. I was unbuttoning his jeans. Then I was yanking them down his hips and he was rolling it on.

  By this time, my legs tucked into his hips, my head bent watching his hand work, I was breathing so heavy I was panting.

  His hand went to my ass. I lifted my head, my lips went to his and I felt him position himself so I had the tip.

  “We need to find a bed,” he muttered against my lips but it was rumbling, low and so hot it was scorching so that didn’t heat me. It burned straight through me.

  “This’ll do,” I muttered back.

  “We need to find a bed.”

  I ground down, filling myself with him. His fingers clenched in the flesh of my ass, his other hand went from between us to drive into my hair, he groaned and I whimpered.

  “You’re right, sweetheart, this’ll do,” he whispered against my lips then pressed my head down so he could take my mouth in a hot, wet kiss.

  I rode him, slow, sweet, glorying in having Mike back inside me as he kissed me in his hungry way that I liked a whole lot and I did this a while.

  Finally Mike stopped kissing me and ordered, “Go faster, Angel.”

  “I like this.”

  “Go faster, Dusty.”

  “I –”

  His hand went from my ass and his thumb found my clit.

  I went faster.

  “That’s my girl,” he muttered and I felt his smile against my mouth.

  I didn’t care he got what he wanted because I freaking loved how he went about getting it. He was pressing, twitching, rolling. God, I’d never felt that before, not from a man except the times I’d been with him, of course. The pressure, the movement, it was better than any vibrator. It was the best.

  I went faster.

  Somehow, Mike shoved his body up the seat taking me with him so his long legs could clear the steering wheel. With knees cocked, his heels dug into the seat, his hips thrust up to meet my glides, his hand at my head became an arm wrapped around my waist and he drove me down as he powered up.

  God, that was beyond the best.

  “Baby,” I whimpered.

  “Faster, Dusty,” he growled, his thumb pressing deeper and I gasped.

  “Mike,” I breathed.

  “I need you to ride me hard, honey.”

  I did what he told me to do, it was beyond the beyond of the best and in no time it built until it exploded and scored straight through me. My head shot back, the moan slid up my throat and I came. Hard.

  Mike was still powering up and driving me down but he’d switched arms, the thumb at my clit was now an arm around my waist and his other hand was back in my hair, shoving my face in his neck.

  “Fuck, I wanna flip you,” he groaned.

  I kept moving, hard, fast, meeting his drives, working to take him there. I’d learned in our earlier encounters Mike liked letting me take him in my mouth, climbing on top but he always ended things in complete control.

  I moved my lips on his neck as I drove my hips into his.

  His head came partially up and twisted, his fingers fisting in my hair, his lips at my ear. “Missed you, honey,” he growled.

  Oh God, I liked that.

  “Missed you too, Mike,” I whispered against his skin, riding him and licking his neck from his ear to his throat.

  He shoved his face in my neck, ground me down on his cock and groaned.

  I let him have it, my lips moving on his neck then his hold relaxed and I started gliding.

  His hand slid up my back to join his other one in my hair and he gathered it away. I slid down on him and did what he wanted but didn’t ask for verbally. I lifted my head and gave him my mouth.

  He held my hair in his hands and he kissed me the way I really liked it. Even though we were done, even though we gave each other the burn, he started the kiss slow like he had all the time in the world to explore then he built it and built it until I felt I’d be consumed by the heat.

  Then he unfortunately ended it and moved my head so my face was again in his neck. His hand slid through my hair, pulling it to the side as his other arm wrapped around me.

  “You warm enough?” he muttered.

  “Mm-hmm…” I mumbled into his skin, pressing deep. His truck was on as was the heat. Environmentally unfriendly. Sexually necessary.

  Suddenly, his arm around me tensed and he grumbled, “Fuck, I can’t believe I fucked my woman in my car by the side of a creek.”

  I lifted my head and smiled down at him. “I know. Wasn’t it awesome?”

  I saw the white flash of his teeth before he agreed, “It was but what it wasn’t, was what I wanted to give you after I dicked around with you.”

  “Am I complaining?” I asked.

  He was silent a second and the word was loaded with goodness when he whispered, “No.”

  I dipped my head, aimed for his mouth in the dark and my aim proved true so I kissed him softly and whispered back, “Then don’t worry about it.”

  He kissed me softly back, tugged my hair gently, I took the cue, lifted my head away an inch and he said, “You don’t have a used condom to find some way to dispose of without Finley riding the land on his tractor, finding it and getting ideas about this spot.”

  I burst out laughing.

  Mike repeated his words from earlier that night, “I wasn’t being funny.”

  “I have a baggie in my purse,” I offered.

  “You have a baggie in your purse?”

  “Honey, I’ve been through airport security four times the past month. And I don’t clean out my purses when I change them. I just dump everything from one into the other. I’m collecting baggies. I probably have three.”

  “Excellent news, sweetheart,” he muttered and I chuckled again. Then he asked, “How often do you change your purses?”

  I blinked, suddenly feeling we were in dangerous territory because I had a lot of purses. I changed them to go with my outfits and shoes so I did this often. And I figured I was in Indiana for the long haul so I’d not packed light, ergo, I brought my horses and kilns and about six suitcases of clothes.

  I was worried we’d hit a Mike Flashback considering he told me his ex had over two hundred pairs of shoes and that didn’t scratch the surface of what she bought so I shuddered to think what her handbag collection was like.

  Hesitantly, I shared, “Uh…a little more than not enough, a little less than too many.”

  Mike was silent a second then his arm gave me a squeeze and he said softly, “Angel, you work and you earn your purses. I was just asking.”

  “Okay,” I said softly back.

  “Now kiss me, climb off and find me a baggie,” he ordered.

  “For a good guy you’re pretty bossy,” I informed him and got another arm squeeze.

  “Dusty, kiss me, climb off and find me a baggie.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered then did what I was told.

  I’d donned and readjusted my clothing and was yanking on my boots when I heard the whir of Mike’s seat readjusting so I twisted my neck to look up at him.

  “I think we missed Kirby’s curfew.”

  “I hope Darrin didn’t teach his boys how to use his shotguns,” Mike muttered.

  I grinned and went back to my boots. “That would be a hope hoped in vain.”

  “Lucky I keep a gun in my car. Though, not sure I want my first date with you to end in a shootout with a fifteen year old.”


  “This would be bad,” I said through a chuckle as I straightened. Then I found my coat, shrugged it on and turned to him. “Dinner went okay, don’t you think?”

  I thought it did.

  No was funny, engaging and interesting.

  Finley was quiet and watchful, taking things in. I thought this was partly because he was trying to be cool around Clarisse (or maybe he just was cool) and partly because his Dad just died, he had a lot on his mind so he wasn’t at that place where he could be his normal self. His normal self being a lot like No, funny, engaging and interesting but in a more laidback, confident way. No still had more boy in him than man. Even before his Dad died, Fin had more man than boy.

  On the other hand, it took a while for Clarisse to warm up. She was a little standoffish and I didn’t know if she was being aloof for Finley’s benefit or because she wasn’t certain what to think of me. This took some time to melt away and eventually she became warmer, more animated. She was still wary but I began to get the impression that it was less that she wasn’t certain what to think of me and more worried about what I was going to think of her.

  To help her with this, I didn’t fawn over her. There was only one way for me to be so that was what I was. I was me. Mike, too, didn’t make a big deal of things and was just Mike. She finally settled into it and gave us what I suspected was a hint of the real Clarisse. I wasn’t sure but I didn’t think we got all of Clarisse but what we got of her was sweet.

  Confirming my assessment, Mike stated on a thoughtful mutter, “Reesee wasn’t Reesee. She was getting there but I think Fin being around put her off. You and Fin, it was too much for her.”

  “They’ve got something going on,” I informed him.

  “They do. And this is unfortunate since that’s not going to happen,” Mike informed me.

  I blinked.

  Then I asked, “What?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Mike mostly repeated.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why?” he asked back.

  “Yeah, babe. Why?”

  “How many reasons do you want?”

  “How many do you have?”

  Mike was looking at me but when he spoke again he twisted his torso so he was fully turned to me and he started counting them down, “First, he’s too old for her. She’s fourteen.”

  “I learned tonight her birthday is tomorrow, Mike, so she’s very nearly fifteen.”

  “Right. Then, he’s too old for her. She’s fifteen.”

  “Mike –”

  “He’s also had himself some. My guess, not a little. My guess, a goodly amount. And he’s not going to get any from my fifteen year old daughter.”

  I felt my eyes get round.

  “He’s had some?” I asked.

  “Definitely,” Mike answered.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “How do you know?”

  “A seventeen year old boy that hasn’t had any acts like No. A seventeen year old who’s had a go or two acts like No. A seventeen year old boy who’s seen some action acts like Fin.”

  “Holy crap.” I was still whispering.

  “And he’s not going to get any action from my daughter,” Mike finished.

  “Holy crap,” I repeated.

  “Dusty?” Mike called and I realized I was staring unfocused through the moonlight at the column of his throat.

  So I focused and blurted, “I fed him baby food peas.”

  He leaned into me and I felt his hand wrap around my knee as he murmured, “Honey.”

  “He spit them out at me,” I continued.

  “Dust –”

  “I changed his diapers. He teethed on my silver hoops while they were in my ears. I laid on my back in the living room while he used my body as a jungle gym. He sat in front of me on my horse when they were down visiting me in Texas. I jumped into the ball pit with him at that stupid pizza place that smells like puke but still, every kid has to have one crappy birthday party there. He beat me at video games.”

  I stopped talking when Mike’s hand left my knee, it cupped my jaw and I saw he’d leaned deep into me.

  “He’s grown up,” he said softly.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered.

  “I should have shared more carefully. I didn’t know you were that close.”

  “I want kids, Mike, and the only kids I’ve had are those two boys. I’m tight with both of them and when I say that I mean tight. They’re my boys. And he’s…he’s…” I blinked, the tears stinging my eyes as the information sunk in, I shook my head once then finished, “a man.”

  “Yeah,” Mike whispered, his hand shifting back into my hair, he pulled me to him and touched my mouth to his before setting me back. His hand dropped to find mine in my lap and curl around tight, pulling it to him and resting it on his thigh. “That shit happens, sweetheart, and there’s no stopping it,” he reminded me gently.

  I pulled in breath, nodded then said gently back, “It’s happening to Clarisse too.”

  His hand tightened in mine and his voice was a rumble when he replied, “Oh no, it’s not.”

  “Mike, it is. I’m not saying it’s going to happen but just noting that you took Debbie’s virginity at fifteen. She was an older fifteen, nearly sixteen but she was still fifteen.”

  “Dusty, a warning, do not go there.”

  I held his hand and leaned into him. Still talking gently, I said, “Again, I’m not saying anything is going to happen. But kids grow up fast, case in point what you shared about Fin. And you need to be prepared not to mention prepare her. And my point is, this isn’t news. Kids have been growing up fast for a while considering you took my sister’s virginity at that age decades ago.”

  “I did. And Debbie was and never has been like Reesee and you’ve known my girl only for a night. You still know that. Debbie was probably a baby once. But the minute she started walking and talking, I’m sure she started bossing and manipulating. A boy like Fin would chew up and spit out a girl like Reesee.”

  I leaned back sharply and stated, “He would not.”

  “You ever been a teenage boy?”

  “No, but my sister had one who didn’t do that to her and she deserved to be chewed up and spit out.”

  Mike had no reply because I was right.

  I kept going. “It’s clear they like each other and something is already going on.”

  “Yeah,” Mike cut in. “She’s been getting calls and texts. Now I know who they’re from.”

  “Right, so, he gets down to the business of asking her out, you sit him down and lay it out. And I’ll sit down with him and lay it out too. He doesn’t have a Dad anymore. Rhonda’s checked out. That’ll be down to me. We’re tight; he’ll give me that time. He needs to get girls think differently about intimacy than boys do and he needs to start thinking about them and their feelings and not just getting himself some. And he respects you, I could tell. And if he respects you, you talk to him, don’t treat him like a stupid kid or an asshole you don’t trust, he’ll respect Clarisse.”

  “She’s not dating until she’s sixteen,” Mike declared.

  “Your call, honey, but he lives right next door and dates don’t have to happen in cars. They can happen in front of TVs with Dad and/or Auntie Dusty watching like hawks.”

  Mike again had no reply.

  So I pulled out the big guns.

  “I like her. She seems sweet. She seems a little unsure of herself, but sweet. And, babe, a girl who looks like your daughter should in no way be unsure of herself. And a good thing for a girl who’s as beautiful as your daughter and is still unsure of herself is to have a handsome, popular boy show her she’s beautiful. And a good thing to happen to a handsome, popular boy and a good kid who just lost his Dad and had a world of weight settle on his shoulders is for him to remember that he’s in high school and he should enjoy it by having the opportunity to show a sweet, unsure girl how beautiful she is.”

  Mike said nothing.

  “Babe –
” I started at the same time he said, “Fuck.”

  I gave his hand a squeeze and assured, “It’ll be okay and –”

  He interrupted me with, “No.”

  “No?” I asked cautiously.

  “No. Not about Fin and Reesee because you’re right. He’s a good kid and she’s not dating but it’d be stupid for me to stand in his or Reesee’s way because it’ll only make them want to be together more which means they’ll find ways to do it when it isn’t in front of my TV. I’m saying no to you reassuring me. You don’t have to. I said ‘fuck’ because you’re smart, you’re rational, you’re caring and I wish like all hell my kids had that in their lives for the length of them, something they never got from their mother, and they didn’t just meet it tonight when they’re almost grown up and gone.”

  What he said meant so much to me I stopped breathing.

  Mike wasn’t done.

  His hand came back to my jaw, he leaned in again and told me, “You’ll make a great Mom, Angel. Just here, sittin’ in this car, I’ve seen it all. Your grief at the loss of Fin’s childhood, your sharin’ with me how you spent that childhood with him then you shift right into havin’ his back. Supporting him through where he is now, who he’s becoming. Makin’ sure he has what he wants in a controlled way where no one gets hurt. And lookin’ out for where he is in his head after losin’ his Dad and a load of shit going down that he shouldn’t have felt but he did.”

  I stared through the moonlight into his eyes.

  Then I punched him weakly in the chest and snapped, “Stop making me cry!”

  Then I started crying. Luckily, Mike was close and he pulled me across the seats and into his arms.

  I let it all hang out for a couple minutes then gulped and muttered into the skin of his neck, “I don’t cry like this normally.”

  “You got a lot goin’ on.”

  He could say that again.

  I didn’t respond just rested in the safety of Mike’s arms as I pulled myself together.

  When I did, Mike teased, “Rivera says you take boot camps and, seriously, sweetheart, it’s good you aren’t wastin’ your money on that shit anymore. That punch?” I felt him shake his head.