"I'm already freaked out. We should turn back."
"It's right here. I promise."
As we emerged into the clearing, a huge white fence covered acres and acres in front of us. Horses roamed and grazed all over the place and, in the spot closest to us, people rode quarter horses and other breeds at a gallop. Jillian smiled and she took my hand.
"That map the realtor gave you is pretty handy, isn't it?" I teased.
"It's my best friend."
"Did you come out here alone?" I glanced at her but she shook her head.
"No but I looked at pictures. Our land used to belong to the previous owners of this place until they split it. It's a horse farm now."
"You like horses."
"I do."
"How come?"
"They're emotional. You can feel them and they can feel you."
"They might hate us then."
"They will not." She laughed at me and led me the rest of the way up to the office.
The owner greeted us expectantly and then took us on a brief tour before introducing a few of his horses. I watched Jilly as we leaned over the fence. She stretched her hand out and a tall, white speckled horse approached her. He sniffed her hand, then her face, letting out a snort when she blew a soft breath at him. Her smile, gentle and focused, only widened when the horse let her pet his nose. She waved me over and I pat him gently.
"He's a good ol' boy. I reckon you should ride him," said the owner, clapping Jilly on the shoulder. She started briefly. "C'mon then," he beckoned and we followed.
She mounted the horse first and I watched as she sat comfortably in the saddle. To my surprise, she knew exactly what she was doing and the man stepped away, allowing Jilly to control the ride. The horse responded to her, mostly, as she brought him in a circle around the fenced-in area.
Jilly's body moved with rhythmic ease against the gallop and trot of the horse as if she spent her entire life riding. She pressed her heels down, had her feet away from the body, and seemed to already know how to instruct him. The horse turned when she moved a certain way and backed up when she did whatever she did, but after a few minutes, I stopped watching the horse.
Her expression, calm and smooth almost the same as it was after our warmest lovemaking, drew me in. Gingery hair fluttered behind her when the horse moved quickly and bounced in waves when he galloped. When she caught me looking, she smiled and cantered over to me.
"Your turn," she said.
"No way. He'll throw me on my ass." I shook my head and she laughed softly.
"Come on," she said, holding her hand down to me. How could I refuse that? I ducked under the fence, and took her hand. She removed her foot from the stirrup and slid back. "Face the rear, foot in and I'll help pull you up in front."
"Jilly," I said, squeezing her hand tightly when she turned the stirrup toward me. "If I break another rib—"
"I'll take you to the doctor. Now c'mon, you fierce ex-cop, you," she teased and I laughed a bit.
"Don't make me laugh." With her support, I managed to, very ungracefully, mount the horse in front of her. It was a bit uncomfortable until she helped me adjust my position. With her foot, she untangled the stirrup from mine and readied herself again. I held on to her arms so tightly I thought I might cut off her circulation.
"I got you," she said against my ear.
"This horse is well-behaved to tolerate this," I said.
"He's well-trained. We're going to walk a bit. You'll move with him. Use your thighs to grip, legs slightly bent." She tugged on the reins around me and did something with her feet that made the horse walk slowly forward.
"You're like a pro," I said, trying not to hyperventilate too much. Allowing myself to be controlled by an animal wasn't something I was used to.
"I rode all the time when I was little."
"Were you an equestrian?" I asked when she kissed my neck.
"Nope. Grew up in Texas. Remember?"
"Oh right. You pretty cowgirl, you."
"Ye-haw." She laughed against my neck and I felt her belly jump with it. "Don't you forget it."
"And you were afraid to shoot a rifle. What kind of Texan are you?" I chuckled along with her, though not too much because I didn't want the horse to get annoyed.
"A bad one," she said, and I felt her grin against my shoulder.
Jilly led the horse toward the gate and the ranch owner opened it for her. He pointed toward the tree line and said, "Follow them markers out there. Pink ribbons. He'll follow the trail like he's used ta."
"Thanks," Jilly said and I held on to her tighter.
"We're leaving?"
"Just on the kiddie trail around the property," she said. "You're so nervous."
"I am."
"I like being the not nervous one."
"You're good at it. You've been less nervous here though," I said.
"I like it here."
"Me too."
The weather in South Dakota wasn't too different from what I was used to. In all my time, though, I never noticed the richness of the blue sky. Or how the clouds cast shadows over the mountainsides and treetops. Everything here seemed brighter, more vibrant in color and perspective. Maine was beautiful but this…this was something else entirely.
"Is that a buffalo?" I asked, pointing to our left. When we emerged from the woods, a bunch of dark-breasted arched-back animals grazed in the open pasture.
"Yep."
"I've never seen one in real life before."
"They're beautiful."
"See that back there? That shack place? That's an old school house from the 1800s. We can check it out some time," she said.
"You did a lot of homework, Jillybean." I stroked the arm that she had around my waist.
"I've always wanted to live in a place like this. With someone I love more than anything," she said, her tone more serious than I expected.
"Me too." I reached back and caressed her cheek. She kissed my wrist and we continued our gentle trail ride.
Her vestment in our new life brought warmth and excitement back to me. I wanted to be here with her and experience new things. We didn't worry about leaving the house the same way we used to.
"There's a restaurant in town that I read about in the paper this morning. It's a barbeque place. Want to go for dinner?" I bit my lip after asking.
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"I am."
"I'd love to."
***
My cell phone chirped from somewhere in the kitchen and Jilly got up from the sofa to fetch it. She hopped up the steps from the basement theatre that the builders set up and I watched her disappear. I paused the movie and sprawled out to wait for her. She scampered back down, her face pale as she held the phone to me.
"Your brother sent this," she said and shoved the phone into my hands. A picture of a Maine newspaper glared back at me. In big bold letters, an article titled, Heroine Ex-Cop Turned Renowned Artist Puts Down Serial Rapist, Murder Suspect, In Midst Of Crime, assaulted my senses and set my gut to churning. Beneath it, my brother wrote, "So this is why?"
"Shit," I said. Jillian sat down beside me, her hands held between her knees in a gesture of restraint.
"How'd they identify you like that?" she asked.
"People were there when I said my name. Pam, EMS, the barkeep." I scanned the article, terrified they'd released Jilly's name but they didn't. "They kept your name out."
"Really?" She grabbed the phone and turned it toward her. "Pam's in it. That big-mouthed jerk. She's probably the one that called the press," Jilly said, pausing after. "I didn't know he had other victims."
"I'm not sure they knew prior. They ran his DNA post-mortem, it says at the bottom, and it matched seven known rape kits. At least they mention the messed up murder charge." I dropped my head back against the cushions and held my arm out to her.
"It's a good thing we left there," she said, curling up against me. I wrapped my arm around her and kissed her forehead after bru
shing her bangs aside.
"And no one knows we live here."
"Nope. But you need to call your brother." She leaned into my affection then draped her leg over mine.
"Text him back." I nodded toward the phone.
"What should I say?"
"Tell him yes." I watched as she replied then set the phone down. I caressed her bare skin from knee to hip. She didn't recoil or pull away anymore. Not when it came to me at least. Just knowing that soothed me and she smiled softly when she kissed my chin.
"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm sorry that so many men have hurt you in your life, Jilly. I'm sorry that you didn't get to know Graydon because he would've been a man you could've trusted. I tried to protect you but didn't do a good job of it." I poured my guts out to her without intending to. "Graydon would've done better."
"Sometimes…" she began, stroking the place where my collarbone met my neck, with a single finger. "It's not about the protection and more about the recovery. You can't protect me from everything the same as I couldn't protect you from everything. What we know of each other is that, afterward, we can come back together like this. Like we are right now."
Her words brought me pause and drew a lump of emotion to my throat. I closed my eyes, letting myself grieve for our shared failures and losses. She sniffled softly though when I looked back at her, she was smiling. "We can be together and heal and love, because you've given me that, Jess, like no one else has ever done. No one else has ever loved me like you have," she whispered, her lips an inch from mine. "And I'll always have that."
"I love you," I told her, sobbing once when tears wet my lips.
"I know. And I love you, like I've never loved anyone else." She closed the space between us and her kiss, endless and strong, assured me, in not only her words, but of our healing. That no matter what, no matter how much pain or torment, our coming together was all that counted. It's all that we'd ever have and we'd both die to keep it.
Indigo
A gasp woke me the next morning though I wasn't sure who it belonged to. My body rolled through waves of pleasure, arching and trembling through the orgasm that it felt before my mind processed it. I gripped the pillows, tearing at them through the onslaught of convulsive ecstasy as if after going months without made up for lost time.
I dropped back on the bed, panting and gasping, and only then did I feel Jilly's silky tongue lashing at me from under the covers. When I reached down, I caught a fistful of her hair and held her to me. My sudden consciousness only egged her on more. She yanked my hips down further, nudged my legs wider, and took me again. I pushed the blankets aside so that I could see her. Lusty, playful blue eyes met mine and I nearly laughed when her mouth assaulted me. The tangled emotions only served to heighten my senses.
"Jilly," I moaned out her name when she drove me through a second climax. Every part of me seemed to erupt into undying bliss that she held me in for seconds longer than usual. When she finally released me, letting me down easy with gentle laps against my core, I reached for her, panting heavily. She kissed her way up my body, laughing softly most of the way until she kissed me hard.
"So yummy," she said, nibbling my bottom lip. "I missed that."
My cheeks heated and I imagined myself looking like a bashful tomato. I covered my face and laughed through it. "Jilly."
"Yes, baby?" She kept chuckling at me and yanked my hands away. "Can I help you?"
"No." I squeaked and she only laughed more. "That was…"
"Hmm?" She perked, lifting her eyebrows and grinning.
"So good." I covered my face again and she cracked up, grabbing me into a hug and kissing me all over my face.
"I'm glad. You were having a sexy dream so I figured you needed a little help."
"I was not."
"Trust me, babe, you were."
"Jilly!" I shrieked and tickled the shit out of her. She squealed and squirmed about, her face red with laughter until she grabbed my hands, sitting up on my stomach.
"Tickling is so naughty," she said followed by, "Tsk tsk."
"I can think of something naughtier." My grin nearly matched hers as my eyes wandered up her naked torso. The life she had in her this morning sent sparks of excitement through me.
"What?" Her brows lifted upward, leaving her eyes sparkling with playfulness. I wiggled my hands free and grabbed her knees, tugging her forward.
"Oh, you'll see," I said and she moved with my urging until I could turn my head and kiss her thigh. Her entire body shuddered above me and I smiled up at her. "You like that, do you?"
"Yes." Her teeth chattered when she said it so I repeated the gesture. I kissed along the inner thigh of one leg, over her soft, bare mound, then to her other leg and back again. Her already dampened core radiated heat and desire as much as her facial expression. She gnawed on her bottom lip and tilted her head back. I paused to watch her, letting my hands caress from her neck, over her breasts, and down her legs. Every inch of her shuddered under my touch but not in repulsion. She wasn't repulsed at all. "Jess," she moaned out my name and looked down at me when I stopped. Her brow furrowed and she nearly whined after. I laughed softly and she gave my hair a tug.
"Is this naughtier?" I flicked my tongue over her hardened nub. She twitched and gasped.
"Almost."
With that, I tugged her forward a bit more and slid beneath her, taking her from under. She had no tentativeness this time when I took her, devouring her how I used to, and how she taught me. I watched her grip the headboard, and my body moved with her as she rocked against my mouth. Jilly was without reserve, without restraint as we finally shared our lovemaking together. Her hair draped around her shoulders in crimson waves that set fire to my insides and reminded me of how much I loved to look at her.
She slipped and slid against me, dampening my lips further when she cried out. Her orgasm erupted as violently as it had the first time, and she bucked, hard and fast, as I left no part of her unattended. Once, twice, and again until she heaved and gasped. I gripped her hips to prevent her from tumbling and her body collapsed as she melted down on top of me. Her moaning didn't cease until her face was buried against the nape of my neck and I held her, both of my hands clasped on her firm rear. I kissed her shoulder, licking and nipping afterward, until she took my earlobe between her teeth. A shiver ran through me and she chuckled, her voice sounding husky and aroused.
"There's my Jilly," I whispered and she squeezed me tight.
"Always your Jilly," she said, and it made me smile.
She fell asleep in my arms after that, a contented expression smoothed her features as she snuggled into the pillows. I stroked her hair and stayed with her until I was absolutely sure she was comfortable before I slipped away, padding quietly across the hall to the box-filled loft. I didn't know for sure what was in them but, knowing Jillian, I had my hunches.
I opened the smaller boxes first and found dozens of paint tubes. Acrylics of all colors sat next to a set of oils. One by one, I unpacked the boxes. An easel followed, then canvases, giant ones and smaller. Brushes, linseed oil, and other thinners, and finally, an unassembled wooden stool that matched the easel. I set everything out, staring at it after tossing the boxes over the railing, and took a deep breath.
First, I built the stool which took all of ten minutes, then set up the easel. With the mess I'd made, the loft began to resemble the studio that Jillian imagined. By the time I'd filled a palette with paint, the blank canvas in front of me seemed slightly less intimidating. Sometimes, the only thing I saw in the white space was Jillian. My hesitation in painting her portrait remained, so I brushed some blue paint and smeared it in a line down the center. Red followed and before I knew it, I was making a giant mess of color.
"What…are you doing?" Jilly said suddenly, startling me. I chuckled a bit nervously and set the palette down.
"Just mixing," I said, wiping my paint-covered hand on my shirt.
"Aw, honey, you made a blob." Sh
e hugged me from behind a bit roughly and I laughed as I leaned into her. "Good job."
"It's an interpretive abstract. What do you see?" I held on to her arms and she rested her chin on my shoulder, swaying side to side a little.
"I see… purpley-blue. And you naked in bed, and me waking you up with orgasms." I felt her cheeks lift into a smile.
"What else?" I continued to laugh softly while I listened to her.
"An indigo sky and we're under it."
"Where?"
"Right…" She reached toward the canvas and poked her finger in the middle of the paint. "There," she said, swiping at it and making a streak. I squeaked a second later when she smeared it on my face.
"Jilly!" I swatted at her but it was no use. By the time I broke free, she had a hand covered in paint and mashed it all over me. Her face was red with raucous laughter but I wasn't far behind. I made for the palette and globbed a good handful of paint. She shrieked and bolted around the easel. I gave chase, both of us in hysterics by the time we hit the floor.
In that moment, I knew that our togetherness was no longer bruised, but a cosmic mix of blues and purples that shaded our past and informed our present. It swirled and morphed together like a melty Rorschach on a hot day, turning our white, voided lives into a perfect indigo. The kind that, even in the brightest rainbow, is hard to see. But when you do see it, when you look close enough and hard enough and long enough, the indigo is the most vibrant of all. It outshines the yellows and the pinks any day and I take comfort in knowing that, even when I can't see it, it's always there.
Indigo [Try Pink Act Two] Page 6
