by Marie Force
Fields of wildflowers give the arid landscape a splash of much-needed color.
“It really is.” I spread the blanket on the ground next to the water, realizing we aren’t going to last long out here in this heat. “I didn’t think to grab sunscreen.”
“That’s okay. I put it on after my shower.”
“You did?”
“Yep. That’s Gran’s training. She was always preaching about protecting my skin from the West Texas sun, as if the sun is more potent here than anywhere else.”
“Your skin is lovely.” I drag a finger down her arm. “Smooth and soft and the color of honey.” I watch her nipples peak under the bodice of her dress, and just that quickly, I’m hard for her again.
“Gran wouldn’t be happy about the tan, but I can’t seem to completely avoid the sun, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. A girl’s gotta live while she takes care of her skin.”
“True,” I say with a grunt of laughter. “It’s kinda hot out here.”
“You say that like you didn’t know it’d be ninety-something today like it is every day this time of year.”
I glance over at her, and her saucy smile does something to me. It penetrates the wall I’ve put up around myself to keep out anything and everything that could hurt me. Desperate to recover my equilibrium, I tear my gaze off her and look at the water. “Want to swim?”
“I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Neither did I.”
“Oh.”
“There’s no one around for miles and miles.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know how far my property extends and what’s on either side of it, which is not much.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I can see that she’s considering it.
I stand and pull the T-shirt over my head and then extend my hand to help her up. “Double dog dare ya.” I haven’t said those words or anything even remotely playful to anyone in longer than I can remember. They feel good rolling off my lips. I unbutton my jeans and push them down, kicking them aside.
Honey takes a long, hungry look down my naked body, stopping at my cock, which is so hard it stretches up to my belly button. She licks her lips and shocks the living shit out of me when she drops to her knees to take me into her mouth. Is this the same girl who was just worried about getting caught skinny-dipping?
Fucking hell, that feels good. I let my head fall back as I bury my fingers in her soft, silky hair.
“You have the most beautiful cock in the whole world,” she says in a husky, sexy voice that travels straight to my balls in a bolt of electricity that has me on the verge of coming. “So hard and big and long.” She strokes me with her hand and tongue, taking me to the edge of insanity before she sucks me in again and nearly finishes me off. I tremble violently, like a boy getting his first blowjob, but she makes everything feel like the first time again.
Lashing me with her tongue, she picks up the pace of her hand on the widest part of my cock.
“Honey… Stop.” I pull myself free of her mouth and drop to my knees to kiss her. We fall to the blanket in a tangle of arms and legs. I reach beneath her skirt to find her simple cotton panties soaked through. I groan from the realization that pleasuring me turned her on. Pushing her panties aside, I push two fingers into her wetness as our kiss goes from sweet to fierce in an instant.
This is utter insanity! We’ve already done it three times today. That would usually take care of me for a week, but it took only an hour for me to want her again. Withdrawing my fingers, I pull her panties down her legs, toss them aside and push into her slowly, carefully, keeping in mind that she has to be sore after our marathon weekend.
Her back bows and her legs fall open in a helpless surrender that goes straight to my heart. Dear God, what is she doing to me? Her tight pussy clamps down on the head of my cock, making me see stars. I pull on the top of her dress until her breasts spring free and feast my mouth on her nipples.
This is hot, sweaty, no-holds-barred passion. There’s no other word for it as I fight my way past the resistance of her internal muscles to enter her fully. She lets out a keening cry as the widest part of me stretches her to the absolute limit.
“I love your hot, tight pussy,” I whisper in her ear.
She whimpers, and her muscles grip me like a glove.
“I love to fuck you, Honey Nut Cheerio.”
A gasp of laughter escapes from her clenched jaw.
“Do you love to fuck me, too?”
“Yes,” she cries. “Yes, I love it.”
A low growl comes from somewhere deep inside me as I pick up the pace, hammering into her now, mindless of soreness or the hard ground beneath her or the hot sun on my bare ass or anything other than the exquisite pleasure that overtakes me every time I’m inside her, especially bareback.
I reach under her to grasp her soft ass cheeks and pull them apart to go deeper into her. I press my middle fingers against her anus and let the wetness from her pussy ease the way as I push my fingers into her.
She ignites, screaming as the orgasm hits her hard and fast.
I have to bite my lip to keep from joining her, but I’m not finished with her yet. Not by a long shot. I ride the waves of her orgasm until it finally dies down. Then I withdraw from her so suddenly, she lets out a squeak of surprise. Moving quickly, I turn her over and drag her up to her knees before driving into her again from behind. Now her sweet little ass is right in front of me, and I can watch as I push two fingers into her back door.
Everything inside her goes tight when I do that, and it feels so fucking good. I alternate strokes of my cock and fingers, making sure some part of her is always full of some part of me. She screams as she comes again, harder than the first time, so hard there’s no way I can hold out this time. I explode inside her, coming like I haven’t had sex in a year rather than an hour.
We land on the blanket in a sweaty mass of limbs, aftershocks rocking us as we try to recover our breath. After a long period of quiet, marked only by the sound of our heavy breathing, we begin to disentangle ourselves. I help her sit up, brush the hair back from her face and tilt her chin up so I can see her eyes. She’s glowing. I’m not sure if it’s me or the heat or a combination of both, but she looks lovelier than she ever has before.
I kiss her softly and help her up and out of her dress, which seems unnecessary after what we just did. I lead her toward the water, scooping her up into my arms to carry her over the rocky edge. I keep her close to me as we drop into the water.
Honey wraps her arms and legs around me and rests her head on my shoulder.
A sense of peace comes over me, the likes of which I haven’t known in so long, I almost don’t recognize it for what it is. I’m content in this moment. And then I remember I told her last night that I could give her only one more night. Just that quickly, my feeling of peaceful contentment is upended by my reality. I have nothing to offer her. I’m a shell of a man who powers through life with the goal of surviving each day. I can’t condemn a sweet, beautiful woman like Honey to that kind of existence. She deserves so much more. But damned if I don’t wish, for the first time since I lost Jordan, that I could be someone different for her.
But she’s here with me now, and I vow to enjoy every minute I have left with her soft curves pressed up against me. And when I take her home, I’ll kiss her good-bye and go on with my life. As much as that will hurt, it’s the right thing to do. It’s the fair thing to do.
She reaches up to run her fingers through the hair that covers the nape of my neck, and I’m filled with longing for what can never be.
What a lovely day this has been. The sun is setting in a fireball of oranges and reds as Blake drives us back to town. We spent hours in the water, drying in the sun, and making love. It was blissful and relaxing and a million other things I don’t dare allow myself to think about. I don’t want it to end. I’d offer to make him dinner, but I don’t want to overstep his boundaries. If I push for
more than he’s able to give, he’ll run away. I don’t want him to run away. I want him to keep coming back, but only if that’s what he wants, too. So I bite back the urge to suggest more.
We pull up to my house far too soon, long before I’m ready to say good-bye.
My heart surges with excitement when he gets out to walk me in. But my excitement fades when he stops at the door and draws me into his arms. “Thank you for a fantastic weekend.”
With my mouth suddenly dry, I force myself to smile up at him. “Thank you for not turning me down the other night.”
“Even a machine would be a fool to say no to you,” he says with that small grin I’ve become so fond of.
I hate that he sees himself that way. If anything, he feels too much and he loves too hard if he still feels the loss of Jordan as intensely as he did when it first happened.
Then he kisses my forehead and breaks my heart. It’s over. I got exactly what I wanted from him—more soul-shattering orgasms than I ever could’ve hoped for. But that’s all it’s ever going to be, and I have to find a way to make peace with that.
I force my arms to drop from around his waist and take a step back out of pure self-preservation. “I had a really nice time.”
“Me, too.” He cuffs my chin playfully. “Take care of yourself, Honeycomb.”
The nickname makes me want to sob for what could’ve been. My hands are shaking when I try to get the key in the door.
He takes it from me and does it for me. He steps back to let me go in. “Honey—”
I place my hand on his chest. “Don’t say it, Blake. I’m okay. I promise.”
Looking down, he nods, but I notice the tension is back in his jaw. “I’ll see you around, darlin’.”
“Yes,” I say, forcing a cheerful tone. “You will.” I close the door and slide down the back of it, dropping my head into my hands as a sob erupts from my chest. God, I’m such a fool! Lauren warned me against this very scenario, and here I am, crying my heart out for a man I knew could never be mine.
It was so good with him, so easy and familiar, yet new and exciting, too. How often do you find all that in one man? For me, never. And if only it had just been the sex that was amazing I could’ve moved on from that without feeling crushed. But the fact that everything with him was amazing is going to take some time to get past.
I felt a real connection to him and not just in bed. Our shared history, friends, upbringing, roots… All of it combined to bring a sense of familiarity to what might’ve otherwise been an awkward encounter.
I’m devastated to realize it’ll never be more than one perfect weekend.
It’s completely dark by the time I drag myself off the floor and into the shower, where I stay for so long, the hot water runs out. My body is sore and tired, and my head is aching almost as badly as my heart. I wrap a towel around my body, go into the kitchen to find some pain relievers in the closet where Gran always kept the medicine and nearly jump out of my skin when I find Lauren sitting at the kitchen table.
“What the hell, Lo? You scared the crap out of me.”
“Likewise. I’ve been trying to call you all day, and when you didn’t answer, I came to check on you and heard you crying in the shower. What’s that about?”
“Nothing.” I grab the pill bottle from the cabinet and wrestle with the cap.
Lauren comes up behind me, takes the bottle from me, opens it and drops two pills into my hand. Then she fills a glass with water and hands it to me. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing. I haven’t seen you cry since Gran died.”
I can hide from some people. Lauren isn’t one of those people.
“Blake just left.”
“Wait… He just left as in today he just left?”
Nodding, I wash the pills down with the cool water.
Lauren takes me by the arm and leads me to the kitchen chair she abandoned. I sit because that’s easier than fighting her. She sits next to me. “Speak.”
“He came over after the party last night. He said…” Why did this hurt so fucking badly? “He said he wanted one more night. Today, he asked me to go out to Jordan’s grandparents’ place. Did you know he bought it?”
“I hadn’t heard that.”
“He’s restoring it and bringing it back to life. We went swimming and…” I blow out a deep breath that does nothing to soothe the ache that has overtaken me. I hope the pills help, but I suspect they can’t fix this kind of pain. “He brought me home, and that’s that.”
“What did he say when he brought you home?”
“That it’d been fun.” My voice breaks, and my eyes fill with tears that I angrily wipe away when they spill down my cheeks. “It was fun. I have no idea why I’m such a mess.”
“Because you want more.”
I shake my head. “I know that’s not possible.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t wish it was.”
And there she struck at the heart of the issue. I wish it was possible to take this amazing weekend and build upon it, to see what would’ve happened next, to at least try to make something with him. Suddenly, I’m sobbing again, emotionally wrecked by the disappointment, even if I know I’m being ridiculous.
“I was afraid of this,” Lauren says when she wraps her arms around me.
“You tried to warn me. Hell, I warned myself, but I still got sucked in.”
She grabs a paper napkin from Gran’s wicker basket on the table and wipes my face and then holds it up for me to blow my nose. I’m reminded of the many times Gran did that for me, and it suddenly occurs to me all over again how alone in the world I really am. For two blissful nights, Blake made me feel less alone, and I think I did the same for him. “Maybe, when he has some time to think about it…”
“Don’t,” Lauren says. “Don’t allow yourself to hope for that. We both know how he is.” She’s very businesslike as she wipes my face with a clean napkin and refills my water glass. “We’re going to get you through this and move on. What would Gran say?”
I smile wanly. “That there’s no sense crying over spilt milk.” She was forever telling us that when we were girls.
“Exactly. She knew what she was talking about. You’re her girl and every bit as tough as she was. Don’t you ever forget it.”
“I don’t feel very tough right now.”
“You’ll get your mojo back in a day or two, and just think, now you know what it’s like to have great sex.”
She means that to be comforting, but all it does is remind me of what I’ll never have again.
“You want me to sleep over?”
“You have to be in early for your flower delivery.”
“I can get someone to do it for me.”
“I’m fine, Lo. I swear. Just a momentary moment of madness.” That sums up my current state of mind and describes the incredible weekend with Blake. “I’ve gotten through worse, right?” For a short time after Gran died, I wasn’t sure I could go on without her. Thanks to Lauren and Julie and my other friends, I managed to drag myself out of that abyss. It didn’t happen overnight, though.
“You certainly have. Call me if you need me? Even if it’s the middle of the night?”
“I will.” We both know I never will, but I tell her what she needs to hear. I pride myself on my independence and my resilience. The shadow of rejection has colored my entire life, so this feeling is nothing new.
I walk Lauren to the door and hug her. “Love you forever,” I whisper. We’ve been saying that to each other since we met as first-graders and formed an instant bond.
“Love you forever.” She hugs me tight, kisses my cheek and takes her leave. I stay at the door and watch until she’s safely in her car. Then I shut off the porch light and lock the door. I go into my room to change out of my towel dress into lightweight pajamas.
I convince myself I’m feeling better until I get into bed and am assaulted by the scent of Blake’s cologne on my pillow. I lose it all over again, sobbing like the heartbroken fool that
I am.
Hugging the pillow to my chest, I take deep breaths of the scent, committing it to memory. I never want to forget one minute of the time I spent with him. It was the best time I’ve ever spent with any man, and it will be a long time, if ever, before I get over my weekend with Blake Dempsey.
Chapter Nine
The machine is back in business the Monday morning after the beautiful weekend with Honey. For a whole week afterward, I power through the way I always do, trying not to think about her or how much I miss her or what might’ve been with her. I can’t believe it’s possible to spend two nights with a woman and never want to leave, but that’s just how it is. If I didn’t know for sure I’d fuck it up somehow, I’d go back. But it’s better for me—and certainly for her—if I stay away. So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve stayed away, even if it has about killed what’s left of me.
My company is building a shopping center outside of town, and I’m in the thick of it all day, every day with my men. We move mountains, doing the work of two days in one. As I head for my after-work beer, I’m completely exhausted at the end of the second Monday after my weekend with Honey.
My usual watering hole looks different to me now. Everything looks different post-Honey. I take my usual seat at the far left-hand side of the bar, and Jimmy brings me my usual bottle of Bud. Same thing, different day. Until Honey Carmichael came strolling in here that Friday night, my routine hadn’t changed in longer than I can remember. And now all I can think of is her. Soft skin, sweet taste, hard nipples, tight pussy… Fuck, I’m suddenly hard as a rock for more of her.
I hate my own rigid rules more than I can say. I down that first beer and signal for another, noting Jimmy’s surprise. I never, ever have more than one beer after work. I don’t drink more than one beer and drive. Ever. That’s one of the other nonnegotiable rules of my life after the accident. I never again want to be responsible for someone else getting hurt, or worse, because of me. They said it wasn’t my fault. Fuck them. I was driving her, and she was killed. Of course it was my fault.
