by Karen Ferry
I turn on the indicator as I see the sign of the farm coming into view up ahead. The tension between us has almost disappeared now, making me breathe a small sigh of relief.
“Thank you.” Laura’s voice makes me quirk an eye at her. “For telling me about yourself,” she explains.
I smile softly at her and jerk my chin, happy to see her so much more relaxed now.
“You’re welcome.”
I just hope that placing my trust in her has the desired effect. That she’ll finally begin to trust me. That she’ll let me inside her, body and mind, and allow me to see her.
All of her.
Laura
From Laura’s Journal
What the hell possessed me to tell Kristian that I’m not sorry about James being dead? I didn’t mean to say it, but it sort of slipped out, and now it’s too late to take it back.
That bloody man. I can’t say no to him, not when his blue eyes are staring into mine, so hopeful and intense at the same time. It feels like he can make me say anything lately. Even parts I swore I’d never tell anyone else.
I kept hoping that he’d leave me alone when we drove home, afraid he’d push me to reveal more about my past life—to divulge things about the person I used to be in those dark years—but when he started to tell me about himself, I was so surprised and relieved that he somehow felt that I needed some space. But instead of dampening my desires, all he managed to do was make them more persistent. More intense.
And now here I sit, alone yet another night, almost desperate to learn more about him when I should remind myself to keep my distance.
He intrigues me. I can’t deny that—but how long will it be until he wears me down?
It feels like this friendship thing between us is just a ruse—and we both know it. That it’s only something we’re using—an insignificant word—to avoid the inevitable.
The question is…
Which of us will give in first?
Me?
Or him?
I put my pen down as I inhale deeply. Without reading what I’ve just written, I close the journal and place it carefully in the drawer next to my bed. Then I look out of the window and turn off the lights.
I frown as I watch Kristian outside, seemingly wandering aimlessly about in the courtyard.
Curious, I nibble on my lips, spying on him, and a sense of longing overtakes my body. As if in a trance, I turn away from the window, grab my long, black cardigan and quickly pull it on over my nightgown, before I rush out of my room and tiptoe downstairs.
Knowing every creak and crevice of our house, I walk through our home, careful not to wake anyone as I go to the backdoor. As Sally lifts her head and lets out a soft whine, I shush her and quickly brush my hand over her fur, making sure she settles down before I move past her. Then I slip into my wellies standing at the backdoor and open the door, slipping out into the night.
The further I go –the closer I get to Kristian—the yearning in my senses intensifies. My heart beats hard against my ribs, and my skin prickles.
Kristian has stopped near the paddock where Thunder is, keeping a respectful distance as he admires the horse in front of him. It’s as if they’re having a stare-down, both trying to get the upper hand, but it’s a silly notion and I push it from my mind. I force myself to slow down as I get closer—I don’t want to sound too eager—but still making a bit of noise on the gravel so as not to startle them.
Kristian turns around when I clear my throat.
“Can’t sleep?” I breathe as I stop next to him, careful not to touch him.
I can feel his eyes trailing over every inch of me as he remains silent for a while.
“No. The silence is too loud.”
I frown and look at him.
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
He takes a deep breath as he turns to look at Thunder again.
“Sometimes, I can’t stand to be alone—the silence doesn’t give me peace of mind. Instead, it enhances my senses, takes control over me, until I have to move and do something. Anything to drown it out.”
“What’ll happen if you don’t?”
He glances at me as he swallows hard.
“I don’t know.” The honest answer takes me by surprise. “I’ve never let it go this far without shutting out the loudness.”
Instead of making sense, his answer only manages to confuse me.
“I can’t make you out, Kristian.”
He turns fully towards me and takes a step closer.
“That makes two of us, I guess,” he grumbles.
“Why are your thoughts so loud?” I persist.
He shrugs as he puts his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet.
“They’re just memories, I guess,” he mumbles. “Memories I’d rather forget than remember.”
A sense of foreboding settles over me, and I shiver in the cold.
“Is it a woman you came here to forget?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.
He shrugs.
“That’s what I thought, yes, but now?” His eyes turn my way again, and I shiver at the intensity. “I thought I was in love, but now, I’m not so sure if I’ve ever really known what that’s like.”
I frown at his strange answer and open my mouth, but he’s not giving me the chance to ask more questions.
“Why did you come out here, Laura?” he asks.
I wet my lips and look away again.
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “Wanted some company, maybe?”
What the hell am I saying?
“Is that all?”
I hesitate as he takes another step closer and I crane my head back, keeping his gaze locked with mine.
“I…I don’t know.”
Heat simmers in his eyes, and I suppress another shiver. Not from the cold this time. No, I’m heating up. The fading light makes his eyes appear almost black, but they don’t scare me. Instinctively, I know that Kristian would never hurt me—physically, that is.
But I can’t give him the power to hurt me emotionally, and I fear that’s all this attraction between us will amount to.
Bruised hearts. Weeping souls.
Or maybe only my heart. My soul.
I can’t let that happen.
“Goodnight, Kristian,” I force the words through my lips, denying my body what it so clearly craves. I turn to walk back towards the house while I still can.
I’m not brave enough to stay.
“That night at the pub,” he calls out, making me freeze on the spot. “You saw me, didn’t you? You saw me with Hannah.”
I square my shoulders when I turn back to face him.
“Yes.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his mouth turned down in an unhappy frown.
“I thought you did.”
I wait for him to say more, but the silence drags out between us.
“It didn’t mean anything,” he sighs.
“Then why did you shag her?” The wind picks up, and irritated, I wipe my hair away from my eyes, needing to see him clearly when he answers. Wondering if he will tell me the truth.
He takes a step towards me but I retreat, and he stops as if I’ve burned him with a match.
“Because I was drunk, horny, and the one woman I wanted to be mine didn’t want me.” He wets his lips and sighs, exasperation clear as he lets out an unhappy snort. “Fucking story of my life,” he mutters, confusing me even more.
Frowning, I shake my head slowly.
“Sex should always mean something,” I reply softly.
He nods.
“It should, I agree.” As he scratches his chin, he seems lost in thought for a moment. “But sometimes, you have to use it as an escape instead.” He laughs, but the bitterness oozes, making my heart bleed for him.
“So, what now?” he asks. “Did my having a one-night stand ruin any chance I might’ve had with you?”
The earnest look in his eyes sends a shock through my system, causing my breath
to catch.
“We’re friends, Kristian. It can’t be any other way between us—no matter how much I might wish for it to be different. It just can’t.”
He blinks and I swallow the tightness in my throat as he balls his hands into fists.
“What the fuck do you mean, Laura?”
I inhale a shaky breath, my heart pounding against my chest. Trying to stall for time, I wrap my arms around my waist and stare hard at the ground. When I finally feel as if I have my breathing under control, I look up. The hopeful gleam in his eyes almost makes me change my mind.
Almost.
“Only that, if I weren’t the woman I am today, I could so easily see myself falling in love with you, Kristian…madly in love, even. But I am who I am. Empty. I have nothing to give.”
His eyes widen, and scared I’ll give in—that I’m no longer strong enough to keep my distance—I turn my back on him.
Kristian
Fuck it.
I can’t let her walk away from me just like that.
“Wait!” I call out, but she only picks up her pace. It doesn’t take me long to catch up, and as I reach out my arm to stop her, my heartbeat settles from the mere touch of her hand in mine.
My heart may be quiet, but my body isn’t. Nor is my mind.
“Laura, please. You can’t say something like that and then just walk away.”
The words come out harsher than I want them to, but I can’t keep myself in check.
“Fuck your past, and fuck this friendship thing,” I mutter as I turn around to stand in her way. Her eyes widen in surprise as I shake my head at her. “Admit it,” I taunt her, “it never would’ve worked anyway.”
“What do you mean? Of course it would—if we both wanted it to.”
Wanted. Past tense.
She tucks some wild strands of hair away from her face, her eyes flickering between me and the ground. I can hardly see her anymore—it’s grown so dark—except for her eyes. There’s a storm swirling inside them, making it difficult to keep up with her emotions.
Confusion, hesitation, longing.
Passion.
It’s the last core emotion I see that I choose to hold on to. The one that speaks so much clearer to me than the others.
Passion is something I understand. It’s physical, an impulse that I know how to ease.
Her revelation—her admission about falling in love with me—flitters through my head, and I can’t help but smile at her. I’ll make her change her mind. She has to.
“Don't do that,” she snaps, a small frown forming between her eyes.
“Don't do what?” I smirk.
She jabs a finger in my chest, but I catch her hand, holding it firmly against my beating heart.
“That. Don't pull out the dimples on me. It's not fair.”
I bite my cheek, trying to hold down the laughter that wants to burst from my mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me lose my train of thought every time you do that. I forget where I am, and what I'm supposed to be doing, and I don't like that.”
Now we're getting somewhere.
I lower my head an inch and lick my lips.
“Is that so bad?” I ask, my voice a little rough.
She nods, the frown remaining on her beautiful face.
“It's very, very bad.”
“Why?” I persist. I need to know. I need her to be honest with me.
She huffs as she looks away. The silence stretches out between us, and it’s killing me to be so patient.
She surprises me when she inhales deeply and then answers my probing question.
“Because it makes me want to do things with you that I have no business thinking, or even wanting, for that matter.”
It's my turn to frown as I try to bank down the simmering heat in my cock.
“Laura, I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now.”
She jumps slightly at my revelation and blinks at me.
I nod as I release her hand, only to wrap my arms around her shoulders. With my body, I try to shield her from the wind that’s picked up. I love that she’s so small—like a doll. Her height calls to my protective side, and while I’m no knight in shining armour, I already know that I’ll come to her aid if she should ever need me to.
I ignore the drops of rain that start to fall from the sky. My entire focus is on the woman in front of me.
“You already know I want you. I want to know what your lips feel like on mine. I want to hear you sigh as my tongue explores your mouth. I want to learn every dip and curve of your body as I hold you in my arms. And...” I pause, groaning low when she wets her lips, “...and trust me, I will.”
She lets out a short, breathless laugh, a small smile lingering on her lips.
“Well, you're mighty sure of yourself, aren't you?”
I grin down at her.
Fuck, she's cute.
“What makes you think all of this will come true?” She’s wired, tense in my arms. I wish I could make her drop her guard around me. I move even closer and bend my head until our mouths are so close I can smell the minty scent of her breath.
Tightening my arms even further, I angle my head, unable to tear my eyes from hers.
“Because I'm about to make my desires come true.”
Without giving her time to speak or run from me, I kiss her, and finally - finally - my thirst for her is quenched.
Until it's not.
One taste isn't enough.
I have a feeling it never will be.
Tamping down my rising need to consume her, I take my time tasting her mouth, basking in the revelation that she hasn’t pulled away from me. That she hasn’t even tried to yet. My heart pounds as I tilt my head and trail her lips with my tongue. When she doesn’t hesitate—letting me inside at once—I groan into her mouth, desperate for more.
More, more, more, more, more.
My lungs start to burn. I have to breathe, but air is not important.
Nothing matters except the touch of her tongue as it dances with mine, giving and taking everything I demand of her. When she discovers my piercing, she jumps a little in my arms, only to melt completely against me—just as I hoped for. Through the beating sound of the rain falling from above, I hear and feel her soft sigh. I run my fingers through her hair, only to fist it lightly in my right hand at the nape of her neck, holding her firmly in place. I free my other arm and run it down her side, my heart stuttering when my fingers pull aside her clothes and find soft, naked skin right at her hip bone where her underwear should be. My whole body shudders with need as I realise that she’s not wearing much underneath her now soaked cardigan.
The last thing I want is to tear my mouth free of hers, but I have to before things get out of control. My breathing is hard, laboured, as I stare down, desperate for her to open her eyes. When she finally does, I tilt her face up, my lips hovering over hers. Our breaths mingle in the damp air.
“Are you scared?” I whisper.
I daren’t tear my eyes away from hers. I feel shaken to my core as I stand here, waiting for her answer. Waiting for her to say yes to me. Waiting…always waiting. But for her, I’d wait an eternity.
What is it about this woman that makes me cast aside all my usual rules?
“Terrified.”
I wince as she trembles in my arms, prepared to take a step back if she tells me to. But when she lifts her arms and grips on to the lapels of my jacket, pulling me closer, determination overrides my hesitation.
“So am I, sweetheart.”
The admission is difficult for me, but one that I believe I owe her.
I bury my nose in her hair and close my eyes as I breathe in her clean scent.
“But let’s be terrified together. Please stay with me tonight.”
17
Kristian
I’m not a man who begs, but if that’s what it takes, I will. I’ll do anything to make her see that there’s more to this attraction than lust. That th
ere’s a real connection between us. One that I yearn to discover.
Slowly, she nods, and the air I’ve been keeping inside runs through my lips. Quickly, afraid that she’s going to change her mind, I grab her hand and pull her behind me. As the rain pelts down, we pick up speed and end up running to the stables, only slowing down a little as we come to the end and stop at the door up to my flat. With shaky hands, I open it and lock it behind us before we walk upstairs.
I reach out to turn on the light, but stop when Laura squeezes my hand.
“Please keep the lights off. Please?”
I frown, puzzled and unhappy at her request—I want to really see her when she’s in my arms—but I guess tomorrow is soon enough.
“Okay.”
I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness cloaking us in its warmth before I release her hand.
“Still with me?” I ask as I take off my jacket, my hands shaking as if this is my first time with a woman. I can’t fucking believe it.
With puffing breaths, she reaches down and pulls off her wellies, saying in not so many words what I long to hear. As she straightens up, she nods.
“Yes. I’m still here, God help me.”
It’s impossible to miss the tremble in her voice.
I toe off my shoes and step closer to her. My cock strains against my jeans, but I ignore my own need. It’s time to show her I can be what she needs instead.
“Good. Because I don’t think I can stop now that you’re finally here.
Laura
I gasp at the exposed desire in Kristian’s voice as he stands in front of me. His wet hair is pulled back from his face, making him look even more lickable than usual.
“What is it about you that I can’t walk away from?” I whisper. A shiver runs through me as he takes another step towards me and frames my face in his hands. His touch is so gentle, so reverent, and it makes me feel as if I’m already precious to him.
“I don’t know. I just know that I’m glad you can’t.”
My breath hitches at the pressure of his thumb against my lips. I feel safe in the darkness—but also safe in his arms—as he teases me. I open my mouth and nip it softly, unable to suppress a satisfied smile when I hear his low groan.
