by Sara Arden
“Are you sure? I can have Eric drive you home.”
“No, no. Stay. I’m good. I’ll call you later.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “I know I don’t have to tell you, but…”
“I’ll make sure Sean gets home okay.”
Kentucky gave her a half smile. “Good.”
He wasn’t doing well, but he’d made it clear what he wanted from her. It wasn’t her friendship or a shoulder to lean on. It was sex.
So she’d done what she could for the night.
She started walking back to the garage and she’d made it about a block when the sound of a truck’s engine caused her to turn and look.
Billy rolled down the window. “You want a ride?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Let me drop you at the garage.”
“Okay.” She climbed up into his truck and they drove the short distance to her garage in silence.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said when they pulled up to the parking lot.
“You can make it up to me.”
“Oh, can I?” She waited for him to say something that would make her regret thinking he was such a nice guy.
“Yeah. Get me in for transmission service on this next week.” He patted the door of the truck.
“Sure thing. Bring it by and I’ll get it done.” She went inside and locked the door, watching through the window to see that Billy was on his way before turning out the light.
She wandered over to Betty, the sleek red ’57, and leaned against the familiar metal of the door, running her fingers over the exterior. Yeah, she was still the embodiment of a dream. Of freedom.
Of hope.
But in a different way. She didn’t need to escape herself anymore. For a long time, she hadn’t realized that was what cars meant to her—a way to hide from everything she didn’t have and all the things she thought she wasn’t supposed to want.
“Why’d you leave with him?” A voice from the other side of the car scared the crap out of her.
“God Almighty, Sean. What the hell are you doing?”
“I need to know.”
“So you broke into my garage? How did you even get here before me?”
“I ran.”
“But you’ve been drinking like a fish.”
“I’ve been drinking. Trying to keep numbing my guilt, but I’m not numb. I’m not drunk.”
“So you broke into my garage and scared ten years off my life?” She studied him. “Because why? I got a ride home from Billy Doniphan?”
“You sure as hell didn’t leave with me. So yeah, why him?”
“Because he offered me a ride.” She put her hands on her hips. “What’s with the inquisition here?”
“I looked up and you were just gone, Kentucky.”
He sounded so wounded. “What do you want from me?”
“I thought I knew.”
“Do you want to crash on my couch tonight?” She wanted to offer him the bed with her, but that was too much like the relationship he said he didn’t want.
Hell, maybe she didn’t want it either.
The Sean Dryden she’d fallen for would never have shown up at her house blitzed or broken into her garage. This, more than anything else, showcased that he wasn’t the same guy who’d left Winchester.
She couldn’t let herself forget that he’d been to war. He was a spec ops pilot with all the duties, honor and horror that entailed. He wasn’t the golden boy anymore. He was a man who’d been through hell.
“I want to sleep with you. When I touch you, nothing hurts. So maybe if I sleep next to you, nothing will hurt in my dreams either. I won’t see her. She won’t tell me over and over again how her death was my fault.”
She hadn’t thought her heart could break for him any more, but just then she realized how wrong she’d been.
“Lynnie would never say that to you, Sean. Never.”
“I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from hearing her voice in my dreams.”
“I don’t think anyone can help you with that but you.” She reached out a hand to touch his face.
“I’ll go.”
“No.” She took his hand. “Stay.”
He pulled her against him carefully and rested his chin on her head, as if comforting her. Only she knew it was he who needed the comfort. She took his hand and led him up into her apartment toward the bedroom.
This was intimacy. This was the part of a relationship he didn’t want. It wasn’t just being beholden to another person; it was sharing this deeper part of himself.
She didn’t need him to tell her that to know.
Kentucky left the lights off, almost as if that would keep all the things she was feeling in the dark, too.
He sat down on the side of the bed, facing away from her, and took off his shoes and his shirt.
She stripped down to only her panties and slid between the sheets.
He stayed seated for a long time before he joined her, but he still had his back to her.
“It’s my fault, you know.”
“Lynnie?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“How?” She wasn’t going to shoot him some reassurance just to placate him. He’d come to confess and she’d let him.
“The night she died, I called her.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I broke it off.”
Conflicting emotions warred within her. “Why in the world would you ever break it off with someone like her?”
“My love for her changed. I changed. We changed.” He was silent again for a long moment. “I guess we could’ve still found some measure of happiness. But our worlds were too different. She was the cheerleader turned kindergarten teacher. That life would’ve been a lie for me. I’ve got blood on my hands, and it wouldn’t be so bad if I felt guilty for it. But I don’t. That’s a part of me I could never let her see. A part of me that isn’t going to change.”
“She’d have loved you even if she saw it.”
“I know.” His voice was low, harsh. “It would’ve broken something in her, though. You know that, too.”
Kentucky tried not to think about gentle Lynnie trying to process the horrors of war. Of the man Sean had become. Reconciling the good man he was with the horrible things he’d had to do. He was right.
“I’m sorry.”
“So was I. So was she. We’re all sorry.” He sighed. “But you understand now, right? If I hadn’t called her and told her, she wouldn’t have been out on that road. You know how Lynnie loved to drive whenever she had something she needed to work out.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Sean. I’m not going to beat you over the head with it, because it won’t matter until you decide it for yourself. But you have no control over what Lynnie chose to do or not do. She was her own person. Just like you.”
He didn’t answer her.
“She wouldn’t blame you. You know that.”
“I do, which is why I have to do it for her. She was always too forgiving for her own good.”
“Does Eric know?”
“I talked to him before I made the call.”
“And what does he say?”
“The same thing you do.”
Kentucky scooted closer to him and put her arm around his waist and rested her cheek against his back.
“I tried so hard to save her, Kentucky. But I broke her anyway.”
“You didn’t break her. You don’t give her enough credit.” She stroked her fingers down over his biceps. “Lynnie was a lot of things. She was sweet, she was kind, but she was never weak. She’d never let you break her.”
“You didn’t see the same side of her I did.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“She was so soft, so fragile, Kentucky.” He rolled over to face her. “But you’re not. You’re not soft at all.”
His hands moved down her hips, to between her thighs.
“Except here. Here—” he slipped his fingers beneath the silk of her panties and
thrust up into her “—you’re soft and sweet, but you’re made to be filled with everything I can give you.”
His words were a kind of trespass; he was hiding in their lust from his pain. She wanted to tell him no. That was a lie. She wanted to be strong enough to tell him no. Kentucky wanted to make him face his pain.
She wanted him to see her as more than a temporary fix.
He said he wouldn’t treat her that way, but he already was. He was feeling so many emotions he didn’t want to feel, and instead of processing them, he’d made the situation sexual. In a strange way, he’d taken away the intimacy because this was on defined, temporary terms.
And she’d agreed to it.
He was basically telling her that he didn’t worry about breaking her, and on one hand, she loved that. On the other, she wondered if it was because he cared if he broke Lynnie but not her.
She shook the thought from her head. She wasn’t going to do this to herself. She knew what she’d signed up for with him and it was what she wanted.
Would she really want a relationship with him? Maybe the guy he was before, the high school football all-star who was a sweet kid with an earnest smile. But the man he was now? He wasn’t sweet, and while he was still earnest, he didn’t have that small-town innocence anymore.
He’d seen the darker things in the world and he’d chosen them.
And she, she was choosing him; she was choosing this moment. She was choosing to feel everything, to let it all burst within her no matter which road her feelings took. She grabbed his shoulders and shifted so that he rolled atop her. “So fill me.”
He did.
Almost as if they were in a dream, he slid her panties down her legs, never breaking eye contact. He pinned her there with his gaze, the intensity making her helpless and unwilling to move for fear of breaking this cobra-like spell. She’d never been big on being prey, until now.
Kentucky was held in complete thrall and she loved every second of it.
He hadn’t put on a condom this time, and she didn’t want him to. She wanted this connection with him. She could get the morning-after pill from the pharmacy tomorrow.
Because the intimacy between them was still there.
It made every touch more intense, every sigh more meaningful and every jolt of pleasure more electric.
He was inside her, skin to skin; they were irrevocably linked.
This was what she’d wanted from him, something real. Something that she could remember in the light of day and never doubt that it had happened.
Maybe this was just a moment, but it was their moment. It was something no one could take away from them. No one could change it.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, but she didn’t pull him down closer. Kentucky wanted to watch his face. She wanted to see what she did to him, the passion they wove together.
Each thrust was a deliberate, concise action. There was no wild frenetic energy here. It was all a controlled burn, the blaze between them set with purpose and manipulated to burn hotter with a single intent: their mutual release.
Kentucky was on the edge, but she didn’t want to fall alone. Her orgasm hit her hard and fast, unexpected.
“You’re so wild, Kentucky. Watching you come is like being wrapped in a storm.”
She gasped in his ear, “And you said you didn’t have pretty words.”
He continued to push into her, surrendering to his own culmination.
Sean eased off her body and onto his back next to her in the bed. He pulled her against him, smoothing her hair away from her face.
“This is only going to end badly, Kentucky. We both know it, but neither of us can stop it.”
“Like I said, Sean, let’s just let it be what it is. This feels too good to deny ourselves, and it doesn’t hurt anyone.” Except me, when it’s done, she failed to add.
“I admire that in you.”
“What?” She spread her fingers across his chest.
“Your absolute fearlessness to jump into any fire. It’s not that you’re reckless. You’re not at all. You know the consequences—you’re not unmindful. It’s not even that you don’t care. It’s that you want this one thing more than you fear the fallout. I wish I could be that way.”
Kentucky didn’t know what to say. It was almost as if she’d forgotten that he saw her—really saw her.
He always had.
Everyone else outside their circle thought she was just the wild girl who swilled shine from the wrong side of the tracks.
That was a gift beyond gold.
“You are that way. I didn’t jump alone.”
“No, I tripped on and fell into the fire.” His hand stroked down her back. “But it burns so good, baby.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“Yes.” She snuggled closer. “If I didn’t, I’d tell you to make me a sandwich on your way out.”
He laughed and kissed her forehead.
They lay in the silent dark together in the cocoon they’d made for themselves for a long time before either of them slept.
7
SEAN WOKE HER up with a hot cup of coffee under her nose.
“You know the way to my heart,” she mumbled, and accepted the cup gratefully.
“Drink up, Tuck. I have a day planned.”
“The whole day?” She grinned. “What about work?”
“Fuck it.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “Actually, I didn’t think about that. Do you have stuff you need to get done for the shop?”
“I do.” She nodded. “But I’ll accept your day and raise you this evening. You can help me finish up some of the regular maintenance work.”
“What makes you think I know how to do that?”
“Oh, please. You don’t learn to fly Black Hawks and have no idea how to work on them. You can change the oil in the ’12 Jeep Grand Cherokee.”
“Yeah, I suppose I can, at that.”
“Unless you don’t want to?” She watched him over her cup.
“I could use some time in my own head with busy hands, you know? I’m looking forward to it.”
“So what’s your plan? What’s our lovely day?”
His eyes suddenly darkened and his gaze was centered squarely on her breasts. The sheet had fallen down and she was bare to his view.
“It’s going to be a lovely day in bed if you don’t put on some clothes.”
“I could go for that.” She grinned and took another sip of coffee, not bothering to cover herself up.
“Woman,” he teased.
“Fine.” She supposed he was right. She was a little sore, but it was the most delicious feeling. “Where are we going?”
“I guess that all depends if you still have that Harley in storage.”
“You’re not driving my Harley.”
“No, you are. I’ll hop on back.”
She arched a brow. “Really?”
“What, like I have a problem with a woman who can handle her machine? It takes nothing away from me. Your hands will be on the bars and mine, well… I’ll be free to put them where I like.”
She laughed. “You better be careful. You don’t want to distract me too much.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe my plan is to get you on some deserted country road and do bad things to you in the light of day.”
“Then I guess you better pack a blanket. I don’t want burrs or chiggers.” She got up and padded toward the shower.
“I’m one step ahead of you. I even packed a picnic.”
She turned on the water and let the spray fall over her. “So you thought of everything.”
“One does try.”
“One does succeed.” She soaped up and exhaled as the hot water soothed her aching muscles and helped clear her head.
“Screw it,” she heard him mumble.
His hands reached through the shower curtain and took the soap from her. “We’ve got time.”
Soap-slicked fingers mo
ved over her shoulders, down her spine and around her waist.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Sean.”
“No, you don’t like this?” He continued his ministrations, the tone of his voice making it obvious he knew full well what he was doing to her.
“I thought you wanted to take the bike out.”
“Just imagine what we could do on the bike.” His hands moved down the outside of her thighs and back up the inside, only for him to swoop down to her knees again. “How much would it take to distract you enough to make you pull over? Do you think I could fuck you on that bike at seventy miles per hour?”
“I think that it’s a pretty fantasy, but the reality would be awkward and deadly.”
“Fine, then let me drive.”
“You’re driving now.” That familiar burn started between her legs and all she could think about was getting him to touch her there.
“The wind on our faces, while we laugh at death and drink down every moment, suck the marrow dry from this world.”
She shivered with both anticipation and pleasure. That was exactly how she wanted to live her life.
She and Sean were more alike than she’d ever thought. “Indeed, you are a poet.”
“No, I just know what I want.”
Kentucky licked her lips. “Do you? Are you sure about that?”
He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower with her, his skin hotter than the water that sluiced over them. She took the soap and lathered it in her hands as he had done and returned the favor, smoothing her hands all over the wide expanse of his chest, his shoulders, his back.
Then she moved her hands down over his hips and his thighs, returning the teasing, taunting caress.
His cock was hard and at attention.
He seemed indefatigable. She wondered if they really could spend the whole day in bed. She rinsed the soap off her hands and reached for him, closed her fingers around the hard velvet length of him.
Kentucky had never imagined he’d be here with her like this. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t fantasized about it, but in the real? These things didn’t happen to her.
She had to remember that they were happening to her, right now. Kentucky had to keep reminding herself to live these moments like any other—living them to make a memory to let her surrender to the moment.
