“Treats.” He shut the door.
We sat on opposite sides in the back of my Tahoe with grins on our faces. It was odd and kind of amazing for no explainable reason.
“So …” he angled his body toward mine a bit “…do you come here often?”
I snickered. “Um … not as much as I used to when the kids were young. Of course, we’d bring the snowmobiles and drive them in that field over there.” I pointed out Kael’s window. “And in the summer the kids loved playing in the creek just beyond these trees. How about you? Do you come here often?”
Kael pinched his bottom lip, but it didn’t erase his grin. “This morning, my dad showed me this road. It’s where they pulled off for her to give birth to me. I think I knew even then … that one day I’d come back to this spot with someone special.”
I blew on my hands. “You are so full of it.”
“Sometimes.” He smirked.
“Your parents … that’s a lot of years of happily-ever-after. I’m having trouble figuring out your philosophy on life.”
“That’s good. I’d hate to be boring … or worse … predictable. Where’s the fun in that?”
“True. But I feel a little guilty that everyone else seems to know you better than I do. Tillie knew about your mom dying and probably a hundred other things I don’t know about you. Bella asked you some good questions this morning that revealed a part of you I knew nothing about. Yet … I’m the one …”
“Relentlessly screwing me every chance you get?”
“Crude.” I narrowed my eyes.
“But true. I don’t mind, Elsie. I haven’t had this much fun with a woman in … well … maybe forever.”
“You mean to tell me you haven’t had meaningless sex like this before? I find that hard to believe, Mr. I Can Sail A Boat Off The Coast Of Italy.”
“You like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you care?”
“Yes. Impressing you is challenging and rather entertaining.”
“I’ve lived in Epperly my whole life. That sets the bar pretty low.”
“I disagree, but to answer your question, my ‘fun’ with you is more than sex. It’s simply you. One minute you’re feisty and stubborn as hell. The next minute you’re all Mama Bear. I blink again and you’re threatening to take me down as your competition, and then yes … there’s you letting go of all your inhibitions, and it’s pretty fucking spectacular. I think I’m getting a different version of you than your husband had. I have nothing to base that on; it’s just a feeling. It’s like watching a toddler take their first steps. I feel like you’re learning to live in the moment. And you’re excited and scared. You’re unsure of yourself. You worry about losing your footing, yet you can’t stop because you have to know where it might take you.”
I started to respond, but no words came out. We gazed at each other for a few seconds as he waited to see if he was right about me.
“Interesting assessment,” I said, almost whispering.
Was I that transparent?
“How do you feel?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Huh?”
“When my mom died, my dad said he could either live or live without her. So are you living or living without your husband?”
I nodded slowly.
“It makes no sense, right?”
I shook my head. Kael had no idea. “No. It makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded again.
“What does that mean to you?”
Taking a deep breath, I released it slowly. “Am I Craig’s widow or am I Elsie?”
“What’s the difference between the two?” He thought he had me. He didn’t. My age gave me more wrinkles and gray hair, but it also gave me more life experience.
“One lives idle as an anchor, a living tombstone telling stories from the past. The other lives freely. Taking flight. Leaving everything behind.”
A map of concern spread in shallow lines along his forehead. “Yes.”
Before he could ask his question again, I answered it. “I feel like the bird.” I nodded to the sack. “Now … what treat did you bring?”
He gave me a few more thoughtful blinks before tearing his gaze from mine, pulling out a container, and opening it. “Caramel apple bread. Here.”
I hesitated for a second when he broke off a piece and brought it to my mouth.
“I know for a fact you can open wider than that.”
And just like that … he made my cheeks fill with heat. Stealing my sage moment and turning me into a blushing young girl again. I took the bite. “Mmm … that’s really good. You made it?”
“I mixed ingredients and baked it. I sell this at my shop. It’s one of my most popular items at the moment.”
I spat it out, splattering it all over the headrest of the front passenger’s seat. “Yuck! It’s awful.”
His lips parted, tongue idle, gaze ping-ponging between me and the caramel apple bread mess. “How old are you?” He narrowed his eyes as if it were a genuine question.
I wiped my mouth. “Old enough to know better than to give my competitor’s products any sort of endorsement.”
“Oh …” He rubbed his lips together for a few seconds as he grabbed a big chunk of the bread. “You’re going to endorse my products whether you like it or not.”
“No—”
Before I could get my head turned away from him, he grabbed the back of it with one hand while his other hand shoved the bread into my mouth and all over my face.
“Stop!” I giggled and squirmed, but his mouth silenced me, his tongue shoving more bread into it. I fought him for three more seconds, at the most, before surrendering to the sweet bread, his demanding lips, and his exploring hands snaking under my sweater.
New low … spending part of my Thanksgiving Day on an abandoned road with my sex toy in the backseat of my Tahoe while my family waited cluelessly at home for me to return with a carton of milk. I felt certain not a single one of them would imagine me with a thirty-year-old man shoving my bra up to knead my breasts and pinch my nipples—driving me insane. I wanted his mouth where his hands were and his hands to get rid of all the barriers that stood between his naked body and mine.
We wriggled and maneuvered in the tight space, tossing jackets and shirts into the back of the Tahoe, scooching and twisting to get out of our jeans. Before I could rid myself of my panties, he shoved the crotch of them to the side and slid two fingers into me.
“Jesus …” I closed my eyes while he teased my nipples with his teeth and tongue. He reached along the side of the seat and lowered the back of it, reclining my body right along with it. I was cramped and bent like a pretzel, but when he lifted my body a few inches farther, so his tongue could join his fingers between my legs, the pull of muscles straining disappeared. I turned into a contortionist willing to break bones, tear ligaments, or rip muscles just to feel his hot mouth on me.
One hand pressed to the window to brace myself and my other hand claimed his hair, keeping him there for as long as possible. Labored breaths passed my parted lips, my heavy gaze locked to his as he fingered me with one hand and gripped my inner thigh with his other hand. Every time his tongue flicked my clit, my vision blurred.
I swallowed repeatedly as everything inside of me dissolved. Kael hummed his pleasure, sometimes letting his eyes drift shut for a few seconds.
He didn’t stop to tell me how I tasted. I really didn’t want to know that. I hated when Craig felt the need to describe that like a pussy connoisseur. Or my favorite … “Elle, do you know how good you taste?” I’m sure some women loved that but not me. And the answer was always a silent “No. I haven’t been down there tasting myself recently. Less talk. More tongue. Thank you very much.”
Nor did I want Kael to ruin the moment by saying the words “eating me out.” That phrase wasn’t sexy, and it grossed me out. Overthinking oral sex, in general, grossed me out. All I wanted was for him to just … do it. Put his mouth in places where
I was too afraid to ask him with actual words. Sex wasn’t an interview.
No questions. I hated questions. It wasn’t sexy, and it came across as a lack of confidence. If I needed something more—something different—I would’ve spoken up or used nonverbal cues to get what I wanted … what I needed.
It was why I used one hand to hold Kael’s head between my legs. It was a nonverbal “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. DON’T STOP!”
However, the most magical part about Kael’s ability to read my nonverbal cues was he knew the second I loosened my grip on his hair, it was time for him to put on a condom and get inside of me. I wanted to let it build again together instead of mentally twiddling my thumbs for him to finish because he made me orgasm too quickly.
Making a woman orgasm quickly didn’t deserve a special award. Driving her crazy over and over again until she begged for it … that deserved a trophy or merit badge of some sort.
And … he deserved the championship trophy if he could do it without narrating the whole damn situation aloud.
Kael grabbed his jeans and fished out a condom. Taking a seat next to the opposite door, he rolled it on as I shifted my body and straddled him. Our mouths crashed together, moans filling the silence. And we fucked in the middle of nowhere like animals who had no control over our actions—fed only by desire and lack of accountability to anyone else in that moment.
He made me feel like a horny teenager.
He made me feel drugged without a reason to ever be sober again.
He just made me feel.
And when it ended, everything lingered. The amorous glances persisted as we worked to piece ourselves back together in the cramped space. It wasn’t a “what did we just do” vibe. It was a “life is fucking good” vibe. I was unsure how, after years of marriage, children, and church every Sunday, I managed to let go of the guilt and allow my body to enjoy the most pleasurable things in life.
But it happened. And it was magical.
“I need to get home.”
Kael nodded and started to open the back door. I grabbed his arm. When he glanced back at me, I pressed my hand to his cheek and pecked at his lips—soft and featherlight as I smiled. He smiled too.
“I like kissing you,” I murmured before kissing him slowly. It had been too long since I felt that kind of intimacy—that high from a kiss.
“I like kissing you too.” He leaned in to steal back my lips as I started to pull away.
There was a unique intimacy to a kiss, in some ways, more than sex. He took his time, letting his kiss move to my cheek and along my jaw before returning to my mouth. I liked the tenderness in his hands as they caressed my face and hair the way I caressed his. It was a mix of every sense—taste, touch, the whisper of lips moving together, the pine and mint of his scent, the tiny glimpses of his face so close to mine as my eyes fluttered open.
Nothing beat the perfect kiss.
I kissed Craig like that. At one time in our life, he gave me that high.
Maybe Kael was right. Maybe humans weren’t made to be together forever. Maybe ’til death do us part was a punishment more than a promise.
Instead of pulling completely apart, our foreheads rested together for a few seconds as we just … lived in the moment. That one second followed by several more. We shared a few breaths and existed as something undefinable in silence. I thought of Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars.” Being with someone for a moment in time while just forgetting the rest of the world.
Just a moment.
Just a few breaths.
Just being.
The moment ended as all moments did. When I climbed out, he licked his thumb and wiped my face.
My nose wrinkled.
“Sorry. But you had food on your face because you insisted on acting like a child about a loaf of bread. Are you sure you’re forty-two?”
Before his thumb left my cheek, I turned my head and bit it playfully. “I’m ageless around you. Stupid. Immature. And … free.”
“Thank god for that. I’m not sure I could afford you if you weren’t free.”
“Funny guy. Haha.”
“Tell me…” he brushed my hair away from my face “…how will you react if anyone finds out about us? I think I need to prepare myself for that version of you.”
“Now you’re scaring me. Who’s going to find out? Did you say something to someone?”
“That right there.” He held up a finger between our faces. “That’s what I’m talking about. That panic you get at the thought of someone finding out. We’re doing nothing wrong. Well … except in the minds of your Bible people.”
“My Bible people?” I laughed. “You mean in the eyes of God?”
“No. I mean in the eyes of your Bible people.”
“You think God is okay with what we’re doing, but my church family would not be?”
He smirked.
“You’re an atheist. Why am I even having this conversation with you?” I rolled my eyes then covered my face. “Ugh … I’m having sex out of wedlock with an atheist.”
“I’m not an atheist. And we’re not committing adultery, so that gets you some counter points with the big guy. Right?”
No. Yes. I didn’t know.
I was raised to believe you shouldn’t sin. Period. It wasn’t a scale that just had to have a balance of good deeds and sins. I had dirty sex on Thanksgiving in the back of my Tahoe on a dead-end road, but I also volunteered at a homeless shelter and donated to the food bank … so all was good?
That wasn’t how it worked.
Dropping my chin, I grimaced from the truth suffocating my conscience. “If anyone found out, I would feel ashamed.”
Kael slipped his ungloved hands into the pockets of his jacket, his disappointment evident by that tiny gesture to physically distance himself from me. “Ashamed of me. That’s great to hear.”
“Not of you. Of myself for …”
“For what? Being a grown-ass adult with physical desires? Are we spreading disease and adding to the overpopulation of the world? Are we breaking up marriages? Are we cheating on other people? What exactly do you have to be ashamed about?”
“Because I was married for twenty-two years. I’ve had four children. I’m not opposed to monogamy.”
“Aaannnd … what is your point? No one said you have to be opposed to monogamy or children. Sometimes humans mate for life and it works out just fine, whether we’re really wired to do so or not. It’s not your fault that your husband died. Had he not died, you would be happily married. Blissfully monogamous. A loyal superstar like a bat, wolf, or beaver.”
Happily married.
Blissfully monogamous.
There was just so much he didn’t know.
“Bat, wolf, or beaver?” I glanced up at him with one eye squinted.
“Yes. Three to five percent of approximately 5,000 species of mammals practice lifelong monogamy. Bats, beavers, and wolves are part of that three to five percent. And geese … mustn’t forget the geese—the ultimate example of a monogamous animal. Even if their mate is killed, they will not mate again.”
Kael didn’t simply choose on a whim to not get married, have children, and live a life free from the confines of monogamy. He’d researched it. Maybe to make himself feel better about not conforming.
“And humans?” My head canted to the side.
“I think we strive for lifelong sexual and social monogamy because of societal structure more than it being part of our natural state.”
After a few seconds of searching for a proper response, I said the only thing that I knew for certain to be true in my life. And the only way to deliver it was with a frown. “Welp, clearly I’m not a goose.”
Kael’s head rocked back as he laughed. “No. You’re not a goose. Not anymore. Maybe a duck. They’re seasonally monogamous.”
On another eye roll, I turned, opened the driver’s door, and climbed inside.
Kael leaned inside and kissed me slowly. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
&nbs
p; I smiled and rubbed my lips together while fastening my seat belt. “You too. Are you making a fancy dinner with all the trimmings?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “No. Not for two people. I bought a rotisserie chicken at the store yesterday to make soup.”
“Chicken noodle?” My nose wrinkled.
“Yep.”
“On Thanksgiving?”
Another chuckle. “Yes. On Thanksgiving.”
“That’s …” I gazed out at the woods. “Sad. That’s sad, Kael.”
“Sad would be popcorn and a turkey roll from Smith’s.”
My head whipped to the side. “Asshole.”
“Duck.” He smirked.
My phone chimed with a text, and I glanced at the screen.
Bella: You OK? It’s been over an hour.
“Shoot. It’s Bella wondering where I’m at.”
He narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Tell her the truth.”
“You idiot. I’m not telling her the truth.”
“She didn’t ask for your location. She asked if you’re okay. Say, ‘yes,’ and tell her you’re on your way home.”
“And when I get home?”
“Tell her it’s the holidays, and holidays are filled with surprises.”
I grunted a laugh. “And later when she wonders about the surprise?”
“Oh, Mrs. Smith. I’m afraid you think your kids are more interested in your daily activities than what they really are. She’s eighteen not eight. By the time you get home, she will have forgotten that she was even worried about you for a brief moment.”
I texted her saying I was on my way home, but I shook my head while doing it. “My husband died in a car accident on a snowy night in December. Her concern is not that fleeting.”
“I’m sorry.”
After starting my Tahoe, I glanced at him and found a smile that didn’t scream “I killed my husband, and the least I could do is be a goose. But I’m not a goose. I’m a fucking duck!”
“It’s life.” I lifted a shoulder.
“I don’t mean for this to sound like anything but a sincere compliment. But you moving on enough to allow yourself…” his eyes shifted to the backseat for a quick second “…this. It says a lot about your strength to persevere.”
Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set Page 53
