by Frankie Love
I want to be brave and strong. I want to understand why Stacy died. I want meaning from it all.
But I also don't want to be the next victim.
Maybe that makes me weak. Maybe that makes me small. Maybe that doesn’t make me the sort of girl Luke Barton wants to end up with.
Maybe Luke wants a girl who is big and brave and beautiful. Not a girl cowering in the doorway, scared to step outside, and even though I know Luke is not the big bad wolf….right now, under the light of the moon, I know there is a big bad wolf out there.
And he is coming for me.
Luke must notice that I'm shaking, trembling, because he steps inside, the bloodied message clenched in his fist, and he locks the door behind us.
The victory we felt in finding that stupid key suddenly seems so small.
So dangerous.
"What are we going to do, Luke? Should we call the cops?" I ask.
"And say what? That the murderer knows we’re on to him, and then what? We have my father, the Sheriff, come over and see all this evidence from his office lying around?"
Luke paces the room.
"Dammit," he says. "I knew this was going to be a problem. I knew we were getting in too deep, Hayley. I knew this was trouble. I told you the last thing I want is something bad to happen to you. And then what happens? We get fucking death threats on your Gram’s porch. Me being here is bad news. You need to stay far away from me."
I walk up to Luke, hating the way he pulls away when he is scared. Wishing he would come toward me instead of running every time he is in pain.
I can't take care of him if he won't let me get close.
"Luke, we don't have to do anything tonight. Tonight we just try and…" I shake my head, running out of ways in which Luke and I can try to pretend that this life we are currently living is a normal one.
"Stop, Hayley. It’s all so fucked up."
"Yeah, it is, but you aren't fucked up. I’m not fucked up. So yeah, it's scary and I'm honestly terrified. But there is one thing I do know. When I'm with you, I'm not scared."
Luke closes the space between us, already his flare of anger disappearing, turning to something broken.
"People in this town have me marked as a murderer even though I'm a free man. That will put you in the line of fire."
I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck, wanting him close. "If there's a fire, put it out."
"When did you become such a fucking optimist, Hay?" Luke wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.
"I became an optimist the day I came back to Willow Creek. I was here a few hours and who did I see? The one and only Luke Barton. My big bad wolf."
Luke smiles, showing me his teeth and those dimples, and I know that he and I are going to make it through this.
"What if neither of us had ever left? What if you stayed?" Luke's words whisper in my ear.
"Then everything would be different," I tell him.
"Better?" Luke asks softly.
"Maybe," I say, inhaling his scent, sawdust and allspice, as if he's already been marked by me. Maybe he has. "But Luke, there are no guarantees. No guarantees that if I'd stayed and you stayed, that we would have ended up like this. And this, I wouldn't trade."
"Me either, Hayley." Luke lifts the hem of my shirt, his eyes hooded, his heart mine. "I wouldn’t trade it for the world."
13
Hayley
In my room, the lights are off, the curtains open. My bare feet move against the hardwood floor, shutting the door with creaky hinges, keeping the monsters that lurk outside at bay.
I’m not alone of course, Luke is with me, his chest bare, covered in tattoos that tell a story I’m beginning to understand. A story of a broken man tumbling down a valley of grief.
If I hadn’t come back, would anyone have caught him, reached out their hand? The answer doesn’t change anything.
I am here.
The light of the moon shines in the room and Luke looks down at me. Sees me. His hands run over my arms, the ones covered in goosebumps, the bloody note seared in my memory.
"I want to erase what just happened," I whisper, trying to mentally close Julie’s file and push it away from me. "I won’t be able to sleep tonight, Luke. It’s a nightmare."
The room is so still, our breath labored, as we cling to the only thing we know for certain. In this moment, Luke and I are still standing. We have each other.
"Let me help." He holds my cheek, and I ease into his palm. I close my eyes, having waited for this for so damn long. "Let me give you a reason for sweet dreams."
My body yields to him; this is all I want.
He wants it too.
His mouth crashes against mine again, and he holds my face with both his hands. I wrap my arms around his waist, clawing at the waistband of his jeans, needing more of his warm skin against mine.
His tongue pushes past my lips, and my shoulders falls, my body weak, submitting to his touch. He runs his hands greedily over my bare body, already half-stripped for him. My lacy panties and black bra, dark as the night, are still on. He tugs down the cups, my breasts falling out, and his mouth is on my nipples, kissing them, inhaling them as if his survival depends on it. Needy. Hungry.
Ravenous, once again.
"Hayley," he says, his voice ragged, his cock hard between us, my hands on the buttons of his jeans. "When I was in prison, you know what I thought of every damn night for two years?"
"What?" I ask, unzipping his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His hands are on my ass, pulling me closer still.
"You, letting me take you in the woods. You, naked. You, offering me everything you had to give. I took it once, but girl, that was never going to be enough."
My hands tug off his boxers, and I feel his length against my stomach. He is real and I am real and this night is ours.
"You never came looking for me," I say, revealing something I’ve held onto for far too long.
"You didn’t want to be found."
I swallow, arching my back, knowing it was true. I didn’t give anyone my phone number or my new email account. I disappeared, wanting something I didn’t think I’d ever find in Willow Creek. And why would I? Gram was sick and needed to leave. Luke and Chris were gone. Stacy wanted out. I didn’t think they would come back.
Turns out I was wrong. About so much.
"I came back," I manage to say.
"I’m so fucking glad you did. When I saw you in the grocery store, you know what I thought?"
"What?" I blink, my chest tight, reveling in the way he is offering me so much at once. His body. His heart. His truth.
"I thought finally. Finally the girl I always wanted has come back home."
I slip off my panties and run my palms over my exposed skin.
Luke pushes my hands away.
"Don’t cover anything, Hayley. You are perfect. I’ve waited so damn long for this, and now I want to see all of you."
"It’s yours for the taking, Luke Barton."
He takes my wrists, pulls me to the bed. I sit on the edge of the mattress, Luke standing before me. His cock is so big, so tempting.
"You are more than I remember," I tell him, taking his cock in my hands, his tip velvety soft. My pussy drips, wanting him inside all of me. My mouth. My cunt. My ass. I want him all night and I want him forever.
"Take me in your mouth, Hayley. I’ve been dreaming of your soft lips around my cock for so long. I had your pussy before it had anyone else, but I never had your mouth on my cock."
His eyes close, his hands resting on the crown of my head. I hold his cock, stroking him gently, my hand rolling his tight balls. My core is on fire with anticipation. I want to suck him off, I want to do it well. I want to make him come. In my mouth, on my breasts and on my face. It doesn’t make me blush or want to hide behind my taboo wants. I want his seed across my skin. I want to be coated in everything that is Luke Barton.
In the pause he says, "I don’t deserve you, Hay."
I can’t even eke out a response because there are no words for that untruth.
Instead, I show him exactly what he deserves.
Everything I have to give.
I fill my mouth inch by inch with his massive cock, choking on his girth, but wanting my throat to burn. I suck him, in and out, in and out, his hands on my head forcing me to go deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper still.
He groans above me, and I’m desperate for his fingers to press deep in my wet pussy, to finger me until I writhe beneath him, to finger fuck me until I come on his hand. Then I want him to lick his fingers and taste me.
He is close to coming, and I bob my head up and down, my legs spread, him standing between them. I suck him, squeezing his ass cheeks, wanting something to hold onto.
"Fuck, Hay, I’m gonna come."
I pull him out. "Come in my mouth," I tell him, taking him again. I suck harder, wanting to make him explode in my mouth, longing to taste his salty cream.
He comes, hard, shooting his release without restraint. I swallow him, like I wanted. Like I dreamt.
Then I pull him out as he continues to release ribbons of white, and it coats my breasts. I softly stroke him, wanting more, and he rewards me as I lower my face, letting his come shoot across my cheeks, my lips.
I dart my tongue out, licking his milky cream away. I look up at him; his hooded eyes, his still hard cock, his broad expanse of muscles. He is all man. And tonight he is all mine.
"You are fucking unbelievable," he tells me.
I grab my panties from the floor, wipe my cheeks, run them over my still hard nipples. "Tell me more," I tease. The somber energy from earlier has now dissipated. He needed to come and I needed to taste him.
Now we can play.
"More?" Luke smirks, running his hands through my long hair. He scoots me back on the bed, my head resting on pillows and a soft flannel sheet beneath me. "I can do that."
I smile, relishing these compliments from the man I have desired for so long.
"I remember one summer. You were fifteen years old, just got boobs, your ass got curvy. You came down to the creek, a bunch of us were down there. Anyways, you showed up in a white bikini. Remember it?"
"I remember that swim suit," I say. "I don’t know where you’re going with this, though." My hands run over the ink on his chest, and he hovers above me.
"Well, you got on the rope swing, jumped in the creek. And when you got out, that suit was translucent."
"I remember. I was mortified. Stacy gave me an extra one she’d packed."
"The moment you got out of the water I was so fucking hard for you. I went to the bathroom at the state park, and in a stall, I started jacking off."
"Seriously?" I bite my bottom lip. "I didn’t think you ever thought of me like that back then."
"That’s not all. I was fucking holding my cock, thinking of your tight pussy, your perfect tits, and then you came in the bathroom to change. I saw you between the cracks of the stalls, you took off that bikini, and I saw slices of your bare skin. Your nipples were tight from the cold, and I wanted to pull you in my stall, wrap your legs around my waist, and fuck you against the door."
His hands lower to my pussy, and he runs his fingers over my wet slit. I close my eyes, loving his story and loving his touch and just wanting more.
"You were a naughty boy, Luke. Watching me like that."
His buries a finger in me, flicking it against my g-spot, as if he’d memorized my body all these years ago.
"I was so naughty. I got off to that memory for years." He smiles slowly, finger fucking me nice and steady, moving faster as my juicy cunt starts pouring against him. My pussy has always gotten so wet at his memory… but this is no memory. This is real.
"And then what happened?" I ask, raising my ass as he presses another finger into me.
"The night of the festival I knew I was no longer imagining things. For years I’d wondered if you wanted me… but I was a fucking idiot back then, never appreciating what was right in front of me. But I’m not that man anymore, Hayley. Now I know life is fucking precious. A fucking gift. I’m not gonna fuck anything up. Especially this."
He pulls his fingers from me, slapping his hands against my thighs, pressing his thumb in his mouth and tasting me.
He lowers himself on top of me. My body is ready and his body is ready. We’ve waited long enough.
He fills me with himself, his cock easing into my willing pussy, stretching me far, and causing my fingers to dig into his back.
He thrusts his length deeper inside of me and I wince beneath him. "I don’t want to hurt you," he tells me.
"This doesn’t hurt. This feels like…" I can’t find the right word. My eyes brim with tears of pleasure, of relief, of release.
"It feels like home, Hayley. You feel like home."
He comes in me, deep and hard and good. I roll on top of him and he holds my breasts as I rock against him.
He holds my heart as I ride him under the light of the moon.
14
Luke
Waking up with Hayley wrapped around me is the best fucking feeling in the world. She whimpers in her sleep when I stir, and I pull her closer to me. As she slowly starts to wake up, I relish the feel of her in my arms, the scent of her hair, and the swell of her hips against my groin.
God, she is perfect, and so was last night. I've been waiting so long for this, to hold her again and tell her how much she means to me. And the way she sucked me last night... god fucking damn it, she's amazing. I can't let her go again.
"Morning, sleepy girl," I murmur into her hair as she yawns, stretching her curvy body. My eyes roam the lines of her body, so beautiful and so damn sweet. I need another taste.
My mouth descends upon hers and she mewls in surprise as I kiss her, trying to pull away.
"I have morning breath," she says.
"I don't fucking care," I laugh against her mouth. "You taste too good. Let me kiss you, pretty girl."
She melts against my touch and I get on top of her, kissing that pretty mouth until we're both panting. Finally, when I feel myself swelling under her touch, I run the tip of my cock over her warm pussy, the same way we did all night. Pressing myself inside of her, she wraps her legs around me. Her eyes close again as if she’s dreaming, but her body is wide awake.
It doesn’t take long before we’re both moaning, coming hard and fast, our bodies pulsing together as if we were fucking made for this.
It's the weekend, and I'm not working today, which means I can do some more research. But as much as I want to get to the bottom of the murder, I'm hesitant to leave Hay alone. She's in danger, too, after all...
"I don't want to go," I grunt as we're brushing our teeth in the bathroom.
"I know," she manages to get out, giving me a wide smile filled with toothpaste. I grin at her, ruffling her mane of dark hair. In return, she grinds her curvy little behind against my crotch, and I can barely resist pulling her locks and making her mine again.
She spits out the toothpaste and wipes her pretty face. "I promise I'll stay right at home. No one can hurt me here. There's a burglar alarm."
"All right," I mutter, even though I'm not very pleased with her answer. "But seriously. Don't go anywhere without me, Hay."
"I won't," she promises, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Despite the events of last night, getting that note on the front door, things seem to be a little less tense now. Maybe because all we're thinking about is our hot bodies pressing together...
I pull her against me in the driveway, needing one more taste of those full lips before I finally leave. I kiss her deeply, relishing the taste of her before she playfully pushes me away.
"Be careful," I ask her. "Seriously, Hay. I'll be worried sick."
"Don't worry." She smiles, all pretty curves and soft lines. She's so stunning like this, wearing my shirt and a pair of panties in the crisp morning air.
"Get inside," I tell her. "Befor
e you catch a cold."
She blows me a kiss as I get into my car and drive toward my destination. I know the way by heart, so I let myself think about last night… and this morning.
Hayley felt even better than I remember. The first time we slept together, I was a clumsy fucking teenager, but this time... This time I was all man, and she was all fucking mine. And I'm not going to let that change any time soon.
I drive to the locksmith on autopilot. Andrew Shaw is an old family friend of ours—he's known my father for years, and he's somewhat of a grandfather figure to me. Of course, I haven't seen him in two years... not since before I went to prison.
I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing this might be hard. I know Andrew will be disappointed. I just hope I can get the information I need from him.
I take the key I found from my pocket, turning it over with my free hand on my lap. It's small, almost antique-looking. If anyone will know what it serves, it will be Andrew.
I pull up in his driveway and I can already see him standing on his porch. He doesn't say a word as I exit the car and head toward him, but when I reach him, I see him wipe a stray tear from his eyes as he claps me on the back.
"Welcome home," he mutters, and I have to choke back emotions I thought were long gone. I don't know why I thought Andrew would judge me.
He welcomes me with open arms, and I walk into his house feeling like I've come home. This is what Willow Creek is about—the sweet, kind people who always have your back. Knowing everyone, and trusting them to do the right thing.
I’m glad I came here.
Andrew sits me down in his living room and makes us some tea, serving it with cookies on his coffee table. We sit in comfortable silence for a little while, sipping on our hot beverages. I appreciate the fact that he doesn't ask me about prison, and he respects my privacy.
After a little while, I pull the key out of my pocket and show it to Andrew. "This look familiar?" I ask him.
He puts on his reading glasses and takes the key from my hand, looking at it in the light. When he sees it better, he grins at me and chuckles, low in his throat.
