BIG MAN

by Penny Wylder

  I believed him. Deep down, even though he’s the one that threw us out, ran away… I always believed he was right. I left here as soon as I could, went chasing my dreams. Success, money, my big-shot career. That was what life was about. That was what was important.

  No one would ever abandon me again, as long as I had those things.

  But that hasn’t proven true. Guys have dumped me, and I’ve dumped guys, over and over. I’ve never really connected with anyone I’ve dated, not long-term, not enough to trust them to stick around.

  And my money, my career? What has that brought me? A whole lot of anxiety about getting more. More money, a better career, the next promotion, and then the next and the next and the next. I’m never satisfied with what I have. I always want more, but more doesn’t satiate me either.

  Maybe less is what I really want. Maybe less is actually more, in the grand scheme of things…

  I turn away from the tree to squint back at the house. The farm house where Mama grew up, and her parents before her. The farm that’s been in our family since as far back as Mama knew to tell me about.

  There’s a light on in the living room. I can’t make out anything more, but I figure Grant must be inside somewhere. Showering or sleeping, if he’s angry enough.

  I take a deep breath of the fresh air. Hope that it clears my head enough to say what I want to say without stammering, losing my place, getting distracted.

  I cross the lawn and quietly turn the handle on the front door. Step into the living room. He’s not there, but the kitchen light is on too. I follow that to find him still in his work clothes, chopping vegetables on the counter, his shoulders taut with tension. There’s already something bubbling on the stove beside him. Dinner, probably, or lunch for tomorrow. He always cooks when he’s upset.

  Strange that I know that already. Strange how fast I’ve gotten to know him. But then again, maybe not strange at all, given how well we knew each other before. It was only a couple of summers that we hung out, but it was long enough. I’m the same girl, and he’s the same guy.

  I step up beside him.

  “Hey.”

  He keeps chopping the vegetables, quiet, unresponsive. But he’s listening, at least.

  “I thought you forgot me,” I say. “I believed the same thing you did.”

  He turns to look at me then, but his dark eyes are unreadable. Inscrutable in this low light. When he finally speaks, his voice is low. Full of pain. “How could I possibly forget you, Sasha?”

  I press my lips together, a tight line. “You abandoned me first, Grant. You started hanging out with the jocks, stopped coming by the farm. Never asked me to any of the school dances, never kissed me, when there were so many chances, late at night out watching the stars…”

  “I wanted to kiss you every single one of those times,” he finishes, eyes still locked on mine. Then he sighs and tears them away, shoulders still tense. “I didn’t have the guts. I thought you weren’t interested, anyway—you were hanging out with the artsy crowd, never asked me over—”

  “Because I assumed you were busy being a cool kid,” I point out.

  “And I thought you were too important for me. I thought you left me behind, the way you left everyone here behind when you left town.”

  I bite my lip. “I never meant to do that to you. I just needed to get out of here. After Dad left, after everything Mama went through… I couldn’t spend my whole life here. I needed to get out. Try something different. See what the rest of the world was like.”

  “And what do you think?” He lifts a brow.

  I dare a tiny half-smile. “The rest of the world? It’s overrated, if you ask me.”

  For a long moment, he keeps chopping veggies. Dumps them into the pot, then slowly sets down the knife and turns to look at me. This time, I can read the pain in his gaze all too well. “I’m not a kid anymore, Sasha. I’m not going to beat around the bush. If you’re just looking for a vacation fling before you head back to the big city and your life there, that’s fine, but you’d best tell me now.” He meets my eye, and I cannot look away. Can’t tear my gaze from his. “What do you want, Sasha?” he asks.

  I blink, startled. It’s a question I haven’t been asked in a very long time. It’s a question I haven’t asked myself in even longer. I haven’t dared. Because if I were being honest, I’d admit that I don’t want the life I currently have. Everything I’ve built for myself, my little empire in the city… It’s everything I always dreamed of. Everything I thought I wanted. And it makes me feel nothing except stress. Sadness. Emptiness.

  He sighs, deep in the back of his throat, and starts to turn away when the silence stretches on too long. But I grab his arm, pull him back to me, and blurt the only answer that comes to mind. The truth. The one that came into my head the moment he asked the question, even though it seems crazy.

  “I want you,” I say.

  He steps closer. Looms over me. My head tilts back to keep our eyes locked, and my heart beats in my throat at his nearness, the scent of him, the feel of the heat radiating off his skin. “Are you sure about that?”

  “As sure as I’ve ever been of anything,” I whisper, and it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.

  Grant cups my cheek gently. Leans down to kiss me, and this time, when we kiss, it’s different. I sink into him, falling up, as I wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, the kind I could lose myself in for hours. His mouth parts, his tongue traces my lips, slides between them, and I tangle my tongue in his, lose myself in him, his taste, his scent.

  We part again, and he hovers inches from my lips, his breath hot across my cheeks. “If you stay with me… If you want a life with me… You know that means living here, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I murmur.

  His eyes search mine. “Can you really accept that, Sasha?”

  I open my mouth, but he stops me with a tilt of his head, a flicker of his brow.

  “Don’t answer this lightly,” he admonishes. “I know how eager you were to run last time. How badly the big city tugged at you. You couldn’t wait to put all of us—this whole town and me, in your rearview mirror. Are you sure you could really make a life here? Would you really be happy in this town?”

  I lean up to press my lips to his, tentative at first, then deeper, harder. When we pull apart again, I know. I wrap one hand around his neck and tug him down until his forehead rests against mine, our eyes fixed on one another. “I want this, Grant. That life, the big city, all the hustle and bustle, it… I enjoyed it, for a time. But it never felt real. It never felt settled. This, you… This feels more real than any of that ever did.”

  “What do you want to do about the farm?” he asks softly.

  I bite my lip and shake my head once, hard. “I don’t want to sell it. I can’t imagine it, not after everything we’ve built here, not after fixing it all up like this… Together. We built this place. My family built this place, way back when. I want to keep it.” Then I wince and step back a pace to watch him. “But, I mean… I know I only own half the place now. If you want to sell, I can respect that. I’ll…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ll figure out another place to live…”

  “I don’t want to sell, Sasha,” he cuts across me. “I never did. Hell, when you told me you did…” He grimaces, and it makes my heart ache to see that pain on his face. “It felt like a slap in the face,” he finally murmurs. “You finally came home, and all you wanted to do was get rid of everything left that might tie you even a little bit to this place. That, and you acted like you didn’t even remember me.”

  “Yeah, well, you pretended you didn’t know me either.” I cup his face between my hands, his beard scratchy against my palms. “I don’t know how either of us ever believed that of one another, Grant. I’m sorry for that. But I remember you. I remember it all. I always have. Not just the bad parts, the only parts I let myself think about for years. I remember how much I loved it here, before Dad le
ft. Before I started to worry that everyone would leave me, eventually…”

  “I won’t,” he promises, and I smile, as I lean up to kiss him again.

  “I know,” I whisper against his lips, and it feels like a new start. Then Grant grabs my hand, tugs me away from the sink, into the living room.

  We don’t even make it as far as the bedroom. We fall in a tangle of limbs onto the couch, both of us tearing at one another’s clothing.

  I don’t know how I couldn’t see this sooner. How I could ever run away from this place—from a man like Grant–when he’s the first person who’s ever made me recognize how miserable I really was in the rat race of the big city. Here, I’ve seen the stars every night, tasted fresh air, worked up a sweat at hard physical labor that I never dreamed I’d be capable of doing. But I’m stronger than I thought, and capable of so much more than I ever dreamed.

  Just look at how quickly we shaped up this farm. In just under a week, we’ve been able to make it look like a completely different place, a real home, and a farm that could start working again. Imagine how much we could do if we lived here full-time, really put our all into getting this place up and running and producing again?

  I love this place… And, I’m starting to realize, as Grant kisses me until my lips ache and lowers me down onto the couch, lying atop me, his muscles hard against mine, his body hot and close… I love him.

  Grant tosses the last scrap of my clothing aside just as I finish pushing his boxers down, freeing his cock, already rock hard at attention between us.

  But when he sits back down on the couch, he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap, until I’m kneeling across him, our lips still pressed together, tongues entwined. He pulls me down slowly, angling me just right, and then I lower myself the rest of the way, pushing the tip of his cock between my lips into my entrance, and slowly, inch by inch, lowering myself onto his thick shaft. I moan, head falling back as I sit down against him completely, and he fills me up, stretching me the way he always does.

  Fuck. I will never get tired of this feeling.

  “I love your tight little pussy,” he murmurs against my lips, and I grin into our kiss, nipping at his lower lip. He bites mine in response, hard enough to make me gasp, and then he kisses it better, his hands tightening on my ass, lifting me up.

  “You feel so fucking good inside me,” I whisper into his mouth, as I slide back down against him, thrust him in deep again. We start to rock in time with one another, building up momentum, and with every crash of our hips together, the tension in my pussy builds, my clit throbbing with desire before long. His hipbone grinds against my clit every time I sit down against him, and it makes me wild. His hands run down my back, nails raking over my skin, as I cling to him so hard I’ll leave marks on his back for days. I don’t care. I want everyone to know.

  He’s mine.

  And I’m his. And fuck, it feels good.

  When he comes, it sets me over the edge too, both of us crying out, his hands pulling me down against him, his cock deep inside me as he finishes. I sag against him, spent, and he holds me up, supports me as I catch my breath, my heart hammering in my chest, my limbs limp with pleasure.

  Before I’ve even completely recovered, Grant scoops me up in his arms. Carries me out of the living room, toward the bathroom, with a grin.

  “I think we’d better get cleaned up before bed,” he says, though to judge by the wicked smile on his face, I have a feeling we’ll be getting dirtier again before we get cleaner…

  12

  Grant Werther

  I never imagined it could feel this good to be with someone. But then, of course, it is because it’s her. The one who got away. The one I spent those summers years ago chasing after, and more summers than I care to admit after that—after we drifted apart, after we went our separate ways, she with the hip crowd and me with the sporty one—reminiscing about her. Wishing I hadn’t let us drift apart. Wishing I’d had the guts to make a move when we still talked.

  After she left, I gave up. Moved on. But I never forgot about her. The first girl to set me on fire.

  Now, out of nowhere, she’s back. Back, and mine at last. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone tear her away from me again.

  We’re standing together in the old-fashioned bath of the farm house, the shower steaming hot against our skin. I can’t stop touching her. I lather up my hands with soap, mostly for the excuse, and playfully pin her against the wall as I run my palms down her sides, around to cup her firm, tight ass. Then I drop to my knees in front of her and trace my hands down each of her legs, one after the other, savoring the smooth feeling of her skin under my hands.

  “You are so fucking sexy,” I tell her, gazing up at her across the flat plane of her belly, my mouth inches from her tight pussy. The pussy I just finished fucking so hard that her thighs and her mound are still a little red from the force of it.

  Sasha grins down at me and runs her hands through my hair, her nails scratching against my scalp, a sensation that sends a pulse all throughout my body, straight down to my cock, where I’m already starting to get hard again just looking at her, touching her.

  “You might have mentioned that,” she tells me, a playful little smirk on her lips.

  “Well, once clearly wasn’t enough.” I tilt forward to kiss her hip bone, then the side of her stomach, then across her abs, moving closer and closer to her navel even as I murmur against her skin. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you just how fucking gorgeous you are. How I can’t get enough of you.” I flick my tongue into her navel and grin as she shivers against me, forceful enough that I can feel it. I run both hands around the backs of her thighs and grip her tightly, pull her against me. “You make me insatiable, Sasha Bluebell.”

  “Only fair,” she whispers as her hands tighten in my hair, and her body tenses, her shoulders leaning back against the wall to brace herself. “Since you drive me wild, Grant Werther.”

  “Only fair,” I agree, my smirk widening as I trail my tongue from her navel down toward her shaved mound. She gasps and twists a little when I reach the top of her mound, and I can tell she’s still sensitive from earlier. I’ll have to go easy.

  But that’s fine by me. I like taking my time with her. I savor every minute I can get with this woman.

  Gently, I pry her legs wider and trace my tongue across her mound. When I reach the crease where her upper thigh meets her hips, I trail my tongue up and down that, waiting until she moans faintly before I shift over to the other side to do the same there. When her hips start to buck against the wall, I bring my hands back to her ass, cupping her tightly, just hard enough to pull her forward a little, make her lean against me, as I duck my head lower to taste her sweet pussy.

  I lick along her outer walls first, slow and careful. But she doesn’t tense, doesn’t seem to have any pain. If she’s sore, it’s the good kind of sore, so my slow, gentle licks don’t cause any discomfort. Before long, Sasha’s moaning my name faintly, and when I steal a glance up at her, like I’ve been doing all along because I love this fucking view of this woman, she’s got her eyes closed and her head back, lost in the sensation.

  I part her pussy lips with my tongue and lap slowly along her slit from back to front. Fucking hell. She tastes amazing, as always. An addictive, almost sweet flavor that I cannot get enough of.

  “Don’t stop,” she murmurs, her breath coming faster now. She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

  With a faint growl at the back of my throat, I pin her against the wall, the hot water from the shower still cascading down our shoulders and over our skin, mingling on my lips with her scent and flavor. I lick her faster, my tongue toying along her slit, driving her wild. When she’s bucking against me, and her hands fist so tight in my hair that it makes my eyes water, I push my tongue deeper between her lips. Find the entrance of her pussy and press my tongue inside, as deep as I can.

  She cries out faintly, a soft sound that makes my cock throb with lust to hear
it. It makes me want to take her again, right here. But not yet. Not until I make her come for me, over and over.

  I love the sounds she makes when she comes, the way her pussy tightens, the way her eyes go unfocused and hazy. I love everything about giving her pleasure, and I want to give her as much of that as I can, for as long as I can.

  I start to rock back and forth, thrusting my tongue in and out of her pussy, fucking her with my tongue, making it as thick and flat as I can so she feels each push. I’m rewarded with the sight of her belly muscles clenching, the sound of her soft moans. I curl my tongue inside her and drag it down her front inner wall, right across the little nub of her G-spot, and she cries out, still sensitive from earlier. When I clamp my mouth completely over her pussy, my lips touching her clit while I continue to fuck her with my tongue, her knees quiver.

  “Fuck, Grant…” But she can’t manage more than that, because I’m already pulling back a little, flicking my tongue up her pussy and across her clit. “I can’t…” Her legs are going even shakier just from my ministrations, so without waiting for her response, I lean back and wrap my hands around her hips. I pull her down beside me easily, then lean her back against the bathtub, pausing to kiss her once, deeply, my tongue in her mouth, so she can taste herself on me.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” I promise in a low, certain voice, and I love the way her eyes light up at that, every bit as hungry for me as I am for her.

  I slide down the tub, leaving Sasha directly in the warm rush of the shower, lying with her head back on the edge of the tub as I lift her hips to my mouth and start to lick and suck her clit in alternation.

  “Right there, fuck, Grant, right…” Sasha reaches for my head again, grips my hair tight and pulls my mouth hard against her pussy. I love that—how hungry she is for me, how much she loves feeling me eat her out.

  “I’m gonna come,” she gasps, and that only makes me lick her harder, faster, right over the sensitive spot that I know will set her off.