by Scott, D. D.
Lucky for him, Roxy didn’t want to go home and face the mother she didn’t want him to meet. Lucky for her, he’d be glad to put her up for the night. And it wouldn’t take much for him to permanently extend her stay.
“You’re awful quiet,” he said as he turned off the county road and into the farm’s lane.
“Sorry. I’m mulling over some odds n’ ends I’ve got to make decisions about,” she said.
Such a tiny voice for a tiger, Zayne thought, heightening his curiosity and protective instincts.
He’d never seen her this worried. And he’d never known her to be indecisive. Roxy always knew what she wanted and exactly how to get it.
If he didn’t know her better, he’d swear that fear had dug its claws into the natural confidence coloring her beautiful face. And he wasn’t about to let someone or something rob her of her signature spunk. She might be a tough woman, but when her bravado wasn’t enough, Zayne would be there.
“It probably isn’t my business, but I’m going to pretend it is.” Before pulling to a stop in front of the house, he reached across the seat and took her hand.
“C’mon, Princess, I’ve got all night to take your worries away.” He shut the motor off, took the keys out of the ignition and opened his door.
“And I’m not going anywhere in the morning and neither are you until you’re okay.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss then got out of the truck.
He went around the front of the Ford then opened her passenger door, helping her step from the running board to the ground. “You can stay here as long as you like. I enjoy having you around.”
“Be careful, Cowboy. I might take you up on that offer.”
A smile slowly formed across her perfect lips, a smile Zayne hoped to keep in place for the rest of the night.
Not able to wait until they reached the house to taste her delectable grin, Zayne lifted her chin. The moonlight blanketed her silky skin with a tantalizing glow.
“You’re beautiful, Roxy.”
He touched his lips to hers and drank in their sweetness, not sure he could keep from going after more. Melting into her, he tickled the roof of her mouth with his tongue, teasing her and preparing her for what was ahead. Feeling her relax into him sent a rush of adrenaline straight to his heart. Like he’d known the first time she’d been in his home, he’d never be able to walk away from her. He could never not want her.
Barely able to keep his hands from underneath her skirt, Zayne struggled to fit his key into the front door. Opening the door, he swept her into his arms and across the threshold, vowing to never let her step over it again without her knowing she was his.
Kicking the door shut, he fought to keep from lowering her to the floor and taking her there. But he wanted their first time to be sweet and perfect. Not that his reckless original thought wouldn’t be one to save for future use. If, however, Roxy didn’t keep her hands away from his groin, he’d be forced to abandon the nice guy plan.
As he carried her through the foyer and down the back hall leading to his room, he kissed her neck. Her fruit and nutty scent rocked him with desperate desires he had to fulfill.
While imagining the parts of her hidden under her clothing, he nipped at her throat with his teeth. Maybe he’d ask her to show him where she’d rubbed her intoxicating lotion. One by one, he’d seek out each location. Better yet, he’d get the brand name of her potent elixir and put it in a few hot spots of his own choosing.
Reaching his room, Zayne ignored the light switch and carried her straight to his bed. Laying her gently onto the center of his comforter, he pushed Studley Pete off the end of the bed and lay next to her.
Disregarding Pete’s whines and whimpers, Zayne looked at Roxy’s incredible curves bathed in the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window. He’d often dreamed of having her here, ready and waiting. But seeing her now, his body touching hers, stirred him deeper than he’d imagined possible. Roxy was a piece of his life he could no longer live without.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you now or later?”
He had to ask. He wanted her just as ready as he to take the next step. He wanted to make her happy, making sure she enjoyed the moment with him, not lost in troubles waiting to rise with the sun.
“All I want is you. And maybe a rain check for your mind and ears tomorrow.”
She slid one hand between his legs, massaging him until he thought he’d bore straight through his jeans.
“If you insist,” he said.
He drew her free arm above her head, then ran one lazy finger down her side and up over one of her breasts until her nipple hardened under his touch. Peeling away her blouse from just the one breast, Zayne traced its hard, ripened tip through the lace denying him full access.
Carefully slipping the fabric below her nipple’s crimson swell, Zayne circled the exposed flesh with his teeth. He flicked his tongue over her then gently blew her dampened skin.
Feeling her quiver and gasp for breath sent him into hyper drive. Wanting to saver each experience instead of rushing fast and hard toward sanity’s edge, he struggled against his lust-inspired adrenaline.
But when Roxy lowered his zipper and slipped her hand into his jeans, Zayne’s control was torn away.
With his mouth, he went to work on her other breast and let one hand slide under her skirt, his fingers walking dangerously up her legs then between her thighs. The heat that waited beckoned him between her moist folds and closed-in around him.
“Tease me, Zayne,” she whispered, her breath ragged, her voice insistent. “And let me take you in my mouth.”
The sound of her sensuous requests broke him free from the chains of virtue, releasing an animalistic instinct to ravish her.
Zayne did as she asked. He rose above her, placing his hard length within reach of her lips then found her wet and quivering for his touch. Looking down into her eyes as they went to work on each other’s fantasies, he found an inferno of passion and mischief. As she took him deeper into her mouth, stroking and coddling him with her tongue, Zayne lost all sense of reality. Riding high on the euphoria she created, he gave her complete command.
Before he no longer had control over the timing of his release, he gently pulled away from her and parted her legs. “It’s my turn to pleasure you, Princess.”
He lowered his head, dipping his tongue between her moist reservoir, tasting her sweet desire until he felt her flesh burn.
“Are you ready for me?” He asked, waiting for her invitation before filling her with a force he hoped to build-on in their future.
“I’ve been ready for a long time, Cowboy.” Roxy took him, hard and wet, inside her, closing-in around his pulsating length, holding him captive in her inner sanctuary, sheathing him in ecstasy.
Slowly, in unison, rocking to an electrifying carnal dance, Zayne’s body began moving with hers. Robbed of breath and reason, he rode harder. As she moaned and cried out for more, he tightened his hands around her hips and ass, pushing her to take him even deeper.
With the moonlight glistening off her drenched body, and with her eyes begging him to take her higher, Zayne emptied his passion into her, giving her everything he had. The moment made only sweeter as she crested the peak right behind him.
Laying his head on her damp chest, he felt her heartbeat in more than his ears. Her strong, steady pulse was a sweet lullaby, luring his heart and capturing his soul.
It didn’t matter to Zayne anymore whether his home was in the city or on the farm. Home was wherever he and Roxy chose to be…together.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Following the best night of his life, one he hoped to repeat indefinitely, Zayne sat in the family room in his dad’s worn down leather recliner working on his second cup of coffee. Roxy was still curled up in his bed, a sweet image Zayne would never get out of his mind. Knowing she needed the extra sleep and not wanting to wake her, he’d slipped out of bed and settled into the recliner to watch the sunrise.
While giving Studley Pete an ear scratching, making amends for banishing him from his bed the night before, Zayne looked at the picture giving him fits on the credenza. Its well-worn frame was mysteriously shrouded in the sunrise’s purple-red haze. As if God were pointing out ‘yeah, that one’.
Zayne had had too great a night to focus on the unpleasantness of that particular photo, but neither the sun nor God was giving up on burning the image deeper into his mind.
The life-altering experience he’d just shared with Roxy was at the opposite end of the spectrum from the defeating blow he’d sustained the day the photo was taken.
Zayne stared hard at the maple-edged frame of his past.
He’d tried for years to shove aside the loss he’d been dealt that day. He’d replayed the event over and over again hoping to find a different message. But the lesson he’d learned still strangled his ego.
There’d been people in his life, like his mom, who bolstered his esteem until nothing seemed out of his grasp. Now he had Roxy who gave him a fierce sense of a life filled with the unwavering love Zayne had seen between his mother and father. A degree of happiness he’d never imagined he’d find.
If only he could put the cloud of his relationship with his dad to rest, understanding it for what it was and not for what it had taken from him.
There he was. A nine-year-old boy. A miniature version of his father, the man who proudly flanked his side. Waiting for his mom to snap the picture, his smile masking his hurt, Zayne had patiently gone through the motions of the event. He’d tried desperately then, like he was now, to separate his heart from the consequences of his dad’s harsh mindset.
The sun’s early morning haze turned into strong, white hot rays and blocked the contents of the photo. Zayne bit back the flood of regret hammering the dam he’d constructed to hold in his emotions. No amount of light could wipe out the glaring frustration and fear he’d stomached that day. And nothing could make up for the fact he’d buried his dad without ever patching their differences.
Yes, he’d done everything his dad had asked of him that long ago summer. He’d entered the 4-H categories his dad thought would best showcase his son’s future agricultural enterprises. Following his dad’s instructions, he’d worked his garden hard. Despite the heat, despite the horrible bugs inhabiting the landscape, despite the gritty grime Zayne despised, he’d never faltered in his steadfast efforts.
His sweat and sacrifices had paid-off. He’d won every ribbon, beat his competition, advanced to the state fair level and whooped ‘em all, earning the coveted Tennessee State Grand Champion honors, never won by any child other than a Baudlin.
There the two of them stood, Zayne and his old man, surrounded by blue and purple ribbons. Prize-winning samples of their harvest-ready tomatoes filled baskets and buckets at their feet.
Zayne swore he could still feel the pride-fed pressure of his father’s hand clasped over his shoulder as they waited for his mother to focus the scene in her camera lens.
His eyes glued to the picture, Zayne rolled his neck and head, trying to shake off the heavy nostalgia. The apparent joy of the scene was nothing more than a masquerade of the moments leading up to the shot. A day that turned out to be one of his worst childhood memories. A day that forever changed his feelings for his dad.
Fortifying his resolve to move past that part of his life, Zayne swallowed a cold, dark swig of his coffee. He had to come to grip with the fact he was never meant to please his father. He wasn’t his father’s son in anything other than appearance, a genetic code they shared ingrained in his features. But a likeness ending with the sharp angles of Zayne’s jaw.
Just like he’d tried to tell his father that day, Zayne loved him and hoped the man could accept him for who he was. And that wasn’t a farmer. But Zayne had failed getting across his message then like he’d done ever since the day captured by that Kodak moment.
After that, Zayne had never again asked his father to accept his artistic and performance talents. Likewise, his father never mentioned them either. Zayne pursued his dreams, never again as an entrant in the state fair produce divisions, but made a name for himself in the advertising world as well as on the dance floor.
With his mother’s blessing and support and with his father’s dismissal and excuses to work the farm instead of his son’s future, Zayne had followed his passions.
The photo was the only memory Zayne and his father had made together. The only moment they’d shared the same frame, the same moment in time.
A cold chill flowed from Zayne’s chest to his limbs as if he were bent over an ice chest. He swore, when it came time to raise his own children, he’d never repeat the heartache he’d suffered at the hands of his dad. Somehow he had to freeze his father’s weaknesses, turning his dad’s failings into lesson-learned strengths for his life ahead.
A life that for the first time may be worth the obstacles Zayne struggled to conquer. With Roxy, he’d found a partner who not only fulfilled his wildest fantasies in the bedroom. She was also the perfect partner to share his dreams. She understood his love of dance. She came alive with him under the spotlights. She may move to her own rhythms, but she thrived, like Zayne did, on the unique blend they created together.
He closed his eyes, filling the frames in his mind with their future. He was ready to take the leap. Now that he’d held her next to him, feeling her warmth complete him, there was no turning back.
If only he could figure out what seemed to be holding her back. How could he reach her fears? How could he convince her that even though they’d been born and raised in worlds miles apart, they were a perfect match, both on and off the dance floor?
• • •
Roxy wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in the doorway of the family room. But she’d been there long enough to realize Zayne was battling inner demons that must be on the same difficulty level as hers.
Seeing his distress, at the same time her guts gathered strength to fight beside him, her heart melted. Maybe if she braved the rough emotional seas tossing and turning inside her mind, she’d fortify him to do the same.
At least, in their joint efforts, they’d be miserable together.
She walked across the room, admiring the comforting, homey warmth the morning sun provided as it filtered through the windows. The natural light element in the McDonald home was magnificent, waking up her muses, enlightening her creative soul.
Without making her presence known, Roxy slipped behind Zayne’s recliner and gently, so as not to startle him, hugged her arms around his neck and shoulders, nuzzling her cheek against his smooth, clean-shaven face. The heat of his sun-kissed skin swaddled her in reciprocated affection while his citrus and spice cologne made her knees tremble.
“Good Morning, Princess,” he said, stretching his arms up and behind his head, tousling her bed-head locks with his fingers.
“Morning, Cowboy,” she answered, kissing his cheek before going around the arm of his chair hoping for an invitation onto his lap.
Zayne set his mug on the coffee table and patted his leg for her to join him.
Sliding onto his lap, Roxy cuddled against his bare, muscle-toned chest. As the few hairs he had there tickled her nose, she shivered. Glad she hadn’t fallen for a hairy ape of a man, she settled her head between his rock-hard pects, adapting her breathing to the rise and fall of Zayne’s chest.
“How’d you sleep?” He asked, rubbing her arm with adept hands.
She wouldn’t be opposed to him touching other parts of her as well, but she’d save that idea until she’d clued him in about her issues with her mother then helped him come to terms with whatever was on his mind.
“Thanks to you, I slept fantastic.” She traced his lips with her fingernails. “You wore me out, Cowboy.”
“Glad to hear it.” While his mouth curved into a devilish grin, he winked at her. “I thought the added exertion might wear you down enough to give you a solid night’s sleep.”
&
nbsp; Roxy toyed with a lock of hair covering his ear, curling and twisting it around her finger.
“So you had your way with my body for my benefit only? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Not at all. I acted in a most selfish manner. Nothing righteous about it,” Zayne said, his eyes sparkling with a playful spirit. “And I don’t feel a damn bit bad about my actions.”
“Neither do I. I’d like to do it all again,” she whispered, feeling him grow hard underneath her.
He scooped her out of the chair and gently laid her on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.
Her body quivered with excitement. Her heart pounded against her breasts. A familiar dew-like dampness settled in between her legs. Forget the tangled sheets. Roxy planned on getting down-and-dirty on the bear-skin rug at their feet.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, gently nudging Zayne aside so she could maneuver onto her knees.
She leaned the front of her body against the ledge of the hearth then invited Zayne to close in behind her.
“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna like this,” Zayne said in a husky voice, hotter than the fire crackling in front of them.
“Good thing Mom stayed at your place last night,” he said, moving Roxy’s hand over his groin, encouraging her to reach into his open zipper and set him free.
“She what?!”
Roxy sat up so fast, she cracked her head on the fireplace poker and tool rack, plummeting her body back against the floor. Her head spun from more than the impact of her skull with the dark oak. “Shit!”
“Whoa. Are you all right?”
Zayne rubbed the quickly swelling bump on her head. With each circular motion of his thumbs, Roxy went into orbit.
“No, I’m not all right. Do you know what you’ve done?”
She tried to sit up, but gave up, dropping her head back onto the rug, waiting until the sharp roar of her latest injury subsided.
“Besides trying to clear the way for us to initiate each room of this house with our best fantasies, no, I’m not sure how I really screwed things up this time.” Zayne sat up, still caressing the hard knot now residing in full glory on top of Roxy’s head. “But I’m sure you’re about to fill me in.”
