Leave Him Loved_Harloe Rae

by Rae, Harloe

  His fingers skate under the hem of my dress. “I can guarantee there is.”

  Steely hardness greets me when I squirm. “I’m already getting a tip on where to find it.”

  Reeve groans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder blade. “We need to focus.”

  “Okay, I’ll behave.” I stretch my hands forward in good faith. “Where to, farmer?”

  “I want to show you another one of my fields.” He can’t disguise that he’s growing more aroused beneath me.

  Remaining still is very difficult, especially with an eruption of molten lava flooding my veins. “And why wouldn’t you? It paid off with a banging reward last time.”

  “Glad we agree.” His eyes burn with blue fire when I turn to peek at him.

  “I’m about to jump on your dick if we don’t get this show on the road.” Honesty is the best policy, right?

  “Right, okay. We can make this quick, just a loop around the front lot. It’s pretty much the accelerator, brake, and steering wheel you need to worry about.” He flicks a black switch, and mega-high beams illuminate the ground in front of us. “And the lights.”

  “Easy enough.” I grip the wheel with white knuckles.

  He slides the key into the ignition. “Ready?”

  A smile stretches until my cheeks hurt. “Yes, do it.”

  The motor roars loud enough that a stabbing pain attacks my skull. The deafening sound has my teeth clacking in an attempt to stave off the throbbing. I cover my ears with a whimper.

  “Here!” he yells. “Put these on.”

  I slide on a pair of massive headphones, and the noise instantly vanishes. All I can hear are my labored exhales and thumping pulse. Reeve nudges me, so I tap my foot on the gas. Bertha lunges forward faster than a racehorse from the chute. I fall backward with a squeak. His chest bumps against me, and I join in the laughter. He gestures for me to take it easy, which earns him an eye roll. This time, I barely press on the pedal, and Bertha responds with a gentle shift into motion.

  It honestly feels like I’m floating up here. This beast is practically a steamroller, so nothing stands in our way. The field is open, thanks to being plowed after the recent harvest. That’s what I assume, anyway. The terrain is flat and continuous. It appears I can go for miles in any direction until the tractor runs out of gas.

  I bump along to a silent melody in my head as the powerful machine rumbles beneath me. If it weren’t for the artificial lack of sound, I could imagine being in a limousine. All I hear is a faint hum beyond my muffled intakes of breath. A constant vibration rattles through the floorboards into the soles of my boots. The ride is smooth and effortless otherwise. I barely have to steer or touch the wheel at all.

  Reeve lets me cruise the fields until I take three laps. The sun set long ago, and the darkness surrounding us provides an intimate bubble that sends a giddy flurry through my belly. Only a slight glow from the cab lamp bleeds into the blanket of black. It’s eerie, yet peaceful.

  As we coast across a center section, he motions for me to stop. I ease off the accelerator and apply slight pressure to the brake. The sensitive tractor nearly slams to a standstill. When the wheels quit rotating, Reeve cuts the engine, and the lumbering beneath me ceases.

  He removes my headphones with a smile. “Great driving.”

  I roll my neck to ease a slight cramp. “Bertha makes it easy.”

  “She’s a gentle giant.” With a yank, he seems to set the parking brake.

  I huff at that but give the dashboard a pet. “Good girl.”

  “Turn around, babe.” He urges me with a hand on my outer thigh.

  I stand and pivot in the cramped box, arching a brow. “Yes?”

  “Are you particularly attached to these?” He snaps a pinch of my knit tights between his fingers.

  I glance down at my brown stockings. “Not really.”

  “Well, I’ll buy you a new pair.” Without warning, he rips a hole from hood to crack.

  The cool air whispers across my heated core, and I shiver. “Oh my.”

  “Straddle me. You’re gonna do a different kind of riding tonight.”

  A purr curls off my tongue. “On my favorite stud.”

  He does a horrific impression of a horse’s neigh while slapping his thighs. “Your mount is ready.”

  I slip on top of him and circle my arms around his neck. “This is cozy.”

  Reeve kisses me, drawing my bottom lip taut between his teeth. “Just wait. It’s gonna get real hot.”

  The promise in his voice makes me tremble. “It seems someone was planning this.”

  “You bet your sweet ass.” He unfastens his jeans, tugging a familiar-looking square from the pocket. The foil packet rips between his teeth. He’s sheathed and ready within seconds. “Fast and dirty okay with you?”

  My eyes fixate on his cock bobbing a friendly hello. “Uh-huh.”

  Reeve grips my hips and slams me down onto his dick in one swift motion. I drop my jaw in a quiet hiss at the invasion. He stretches me to the point of pain, but the tingling heat drowns out any pinch of discomfort. I have no moment of reprieve, not that I want one. I get no warning before he lifts me for a second brutal plunge. The fullness is a shock to my system, and I clench on instinct.

  He grunts and nips at my chin. “Damn, babe. Go easy on me.”

  “You’re one to talk,” I moan.

  But our conversation comes to an abrupt halt as he treats me to another harsh jab. He bucks into me, setting a punishing rhythm. I bounce from the momentum, gripping his shoulders for support. The resounding echo of our skin making contact is a filthy soundtrack. That hollow slap prods me to make a faster beat. Nothing sensual brews between our bodies at the moment. The spank of flesh connecting carries a very particular tune. This is pure fucking in every sense of the word.

  We’re driven by pleasure, seeking that high that will send us soaring into numbing bliss. I reach for that peak while grinding down onto his cock. He hits a spot so deep that I release a silent scream, my inner muscles rippling with a preview of the finale. Sweat teases my hairline with a tickle. I notice moisture dots his brow. Setting a demanding pace, we bolt toward the gates of euphoria. We push each other faster and harder with each rotation.

  The small space smells of primal lust and syrupy satisfaction. A long inhale gets me lightheaded, and I fold against him for a brief pause. The windows steam with a thick coating of fog. A distant memory from a scene in Titanic blossoms through the curtain of heat. I slap my palm against the glass, dragging to make a memorable mark. A sluggish grin crooks my mouth at the sight.

  Reeve grabs a fistful of my hair, giving the roots a ruthless yank. My neck snaps backward from the force. His teeth scrape along the tender column of my throat. This borders on the right side of rough, yet I’ve never felt so cherished. While we use one another to sate our hunger, he watches me constantly for cues that it’s too much. He won’t see any signs of distress from me. I never want this savage joining to end.

  With a moan, I rock into him while he hammers deeper. Reeve kneads my breast through the material of my dress. My nipples pebble into tingling points, demanding attention. His fingers latch onto that greedy tip with a pinch that makes me squeal. I flutter my lashes as furious yearning pulses from my center. It’s game over when his thumb finds my clit and lavishes that tiny bundle with rapid flicks.

  Pressure releases with a spasm that paralyzes my limbs. I reach the ledge and teeter for only a second before tumbling into the abyss. My vocal cords strain as I cry in relief. Reeve bellows below me, giving a final upward thrust that locks us into a singular spiral. We’re clutching to one another as all else fades. The edges of my vision blur, and I clench my eyes shut to allow this all-consuming fire to burn through me.

  I collapse onto his chest, swaying forward and back from our panting breaths. My entire lower half slumbers blissfully in a puddle of nirvana. Even my toes snore. Moving even an inch requires far too much effort. All I can manage is another dop
ey smile.

  A languid thud pumps through me with the fading aftershocks. “That was… something else.”

  Reeve’s chuckle puffs at my tangled hair. “Too rough?”

  “Not at all,” I wheeze.

  “Driving a tractor will never be the same again,” he muses.

  “I would sure hope not.” My hips swivel on their own.

  The sound he makes is one of disbelief. “Again?”

  A throaty scoff rips from me. “That’s not a question. We’re definitely doing that again, farmer.”

  I stare out my front window as an unrelenting blizzard wreaks havoc on Bampton Valley. The glass frosts over, a layer of ice stealing clarity, but the view couldn’t be more telling. No one is going anywhere today, not safely at least.

  A chill skips down my spine as another gust carries frozen clumps across the yard.

  The sight isn’t even pretty. Usually, I revel in the year’s first snowfall, but not now. This is heavy and thick and heartbreaking. The plows don’t bother to clear the streets. Adding salt at this point would only sting my wounds. I squint, trying to decipher where the sidewalk and Oak Lane split. I have zero doubt that driving conditions are horrific at best. Anyone who dares to try is braver—and more reckless—than me.

  The coffee in my mug has gone cold, but I take a sip regardless. A frigid tang with hints of bitterness matches my mood. That’s precisely why I’m still guzzling stale caffeine at one o’clock in the afternoon. This weather in late November is no shock. But why today? I should’ve left for home hours ago. Instead, I’m stuck inside and far from home. This will be my first Thanksgiving away from my family.

  An upbeat ringtone shatters the silence of my caving chest. It’s almost as if a beacon is connected to my internal wallowing. I glance at the screen, and a wobbly smile cracks my lips. After a swipe, I hit the speaker button. “Hi, Van.”

  “Hey, girl.” Her usually chipper voice is somber at best. “Are you stuck in Iowa?”

  “Without a means of escape. My garage won’t even open,” I whine.

  “This is beyond shitty. I really want to see you.”

  I appreciate her petulance. A sniffle attacks my nose. “It’s been months. I’m so upset.”

  Vannah huffs down the line. “This storm is ridiculous. Why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow, huh? Mother Nature has it out for us, Auds. She’s trying to keep us apart.”

  “And doing a damn fine job.”

  “At least you’ll be home for Christmas,” she soothes.

  “That’s weeks away.” I flop onto the couch with a groan.

  “Silver lining?”

  “Not so much. Tell me about your plans,” I plead.

  Her hesitation is palpable. “Are you sure? Won’t that make you feel worse?”

  I snort. “I’m all alone on one of the most family-orientated holidays. I’m pretty sure I’ve already met the quota.”

  Vannah hums. “Okay, true story. It’s pretty much the standard affair for your bestie. I’m heading over to my folks’ at three. All the girls are meeting at the Library around nine.”

  I slump my shoulders at the reminder. We were supposed to reunite at our old stomping grounds tonight. “You’ll have a blast.”

  “Less so without you there.” Her reassurance falls flat.

  “I’ll be on a stool in spirit,” I mumble.

  “Can we Zoom you in?”

  Even though I’m well versed with the video chat service, flying in on a rocket comes to mind. A humorless chuckle rattles out of me. “Yes, please. Getting drunk by myself isn’t appealing.”

  Vannah coos, which is comical coming from my least empathic friend. “I hope you have booze in that house.”

  “Fully stocked,” I grumble. I made a run to the liquor store yesterday to pick up some festive spirits. The wide selection was meant to be shared with my family in front of our crackling fireplace. It would’ve been my main contribution to the meal. Being the youngest—and still considered irresponsible—has its perks. Not that it’ll do me any good with the lack of company.

  “Did your parents call?”

  “Yeah, once this disaster took a hazardous turn.” I glance out my window to watch fluffy sheets falling from the sky. “They’re disappointed, of course.”

  “I bet. They were probably more excited to see you than I was.”

  “Thanks for that,” I jest.

  “No problem. Can you Door Dash a turkey dinner?”

  The sparkle of hope in her tone makes me grin. “Even if I were willing to risk the driver’s life, which I’m not, no restaurants nearby offer delivery.”

  “Oh,” Vannah snarks. “That’s right. How many months are left?”

  I stiffen at her question because the number isn’t readily available. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost track. June fifteenth has been the final destination of this journey since I moved in. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to turn the clock backward, but that’s not possible.

  A quick calculation is easy enough. “A little less than seven.”

  Her agonized wail is purely for my benefit. “Good Lord, girl. How’re you going to survive?”

  “I’ll make do,” I vow.

  She whoops with a whistle. “Hell yes, you will. That prime cut of man-meat you’re feasting on certainly helps.”

  Her description of Reeve makes me giggle. I’m about to respond when the rumble of an engine catches my attention. I peer behind me to catch a snowmobile swerving into my driveway. With another piercing roar, the sleek frame maneuvers over tall drifts and layers of powder without a struggle. The black paint pops against the pristine sea of white and slides to a stop mere feet from my steps. I practically smash my face to the glass in an attempt to see who’s driving.

  Besides the thin dusting of snow, whoever it is has concealed their identity with full-body protective gear. A huge figure dressed for the winter wilderness dismounts with what I assume is the intention of visiting me. An icy trickle slithers through my veins as I continue sitting idly by. The person resembles a yeti or sasquatch or something of similar stature.

  I cough to dislodge the wariness clogging my throat. “Van? Let me call you later.”

  Rustling precedes her sharp intake of breath. “What’s wrong, Auds?”

  “Nothing,” I state calmly. “Someone’s at my house.”

  Vannah squawks as more crumpling persists. “Are you calling the cops?”

  I laugh. “No, I doubt it’s anyone dangerous. This isn’t cause for concern.”

  “You shouldn’t be too trusting,” she warns.

  “The city has jaded you.”

  “And the country is making you foolish.” She most likely frowns until remembering it will cause wrinkles. “Your front door better be locked.”

  It isn’t, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yes, Mom. I’ll send you a safety text.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  We hang up, and I set my phone on the table with a trembling hand. Expecting it or not, the booming knock just about sends me leaping six feet in the air. My legs threaten to buckle as I slink toward the entryway. With a creak, I slip the door open a crack. Through that sliver of space, I scrutinize the potential intruder, who’s still impossible to pinpoint underneath a wooly facemask and oversized goggles. All that’s visible is a delectable pair of lips, which tip in a very recognizable smirk. I sag against the wall with a whoosh.

  Standing on my stoop, wearing this very bulky snowsuit, is Reeve. He waves a gloved mitt at me. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey, yourself.” I make room for him to enter. “This is a surprise.”

  “Hopefully a good one.” After stomping off his boots on the rug, he begins disrobing.

  Each item peeled off grants me a glimpse of his chiseled physique. An empty clench in my core almost makes me whimper.

  Maybe this town does provide delivery.

  I swat at the cloud of lust. “That’s quite the getup you’ve got.”

  Reeve unzips his
thermal pullover. “Gotta stay warm in the elements.”

  “Especially in this madness.” I shake off the remaining shock while I’m at it. “How did you drive in these conditions? I can’t even see the road.”

  He waves that off. “No one has plans of leaving, so they don’t waste the effort plowing. That’s why other modes of transportation come in handy. You’ll probably see a few tractors roll by.”

  I can only offer a bemused expression. “Well, how about that.”

  “Wanna go for a cruise on the sled later? It’s not a bad ride.”

  “Maybe,” I utter while my brain processes the events from the last five minutes. Something’s not quite right. “What’re you doing here, farmer?”

  He returns to the porch for his cooler and hefts it into the foyer. “I brought you dinner.”

  From behind my sternum, an erratic drumming attempts to break free. Reality crashes in a beat later, and I crease my brow. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

  “We ate brunch earlier, and I knew you were alone. That’s not how anyone should spend Thanksgiving.” He strides toward me, grazing my forehead with a kiss.

  I melt into him without consent. Freaking kryptonite. “Oh,” is all I can wrench through the cinch around my windpipe. Anything more would be a warbled mess.

  Reeve gives me another gentle brush of his lips. “Plus, I felt personally responsible for jinxing the weather.”

  My heart does cartwheels, somersaults, backflips, handsprings—a whole freaking tumbling routine directly into his arms. I hand that love-struck organ to this man on a shiny, freshly polished platter. What else can I possibly do with it? This man takes swoon to a professional level, and I can’t compete. Hell, I’m not even in the junior division.

  Before I can rein it in, pressure builds behind my eyes. My vision swims and blurs while I try to fight the onslaught. I choke on the failing effort as more moisture floods in. The cascade is too powerful for my off-duty guard. A stray trickle races down my cheek, followed by two more. I bat the pesky drops away with a sniff. Who is this man, and where did he come from? Why can’t he be mine? The injustice curdles in my belly.