by BJ Wane
“Oh, I wish I thought to grab my camera.” She sighed wistfully as her mind filled with potential art.
“You’ll have to come back when spring is in full bloom,” Kurt said. “There’s nothing prettier than the prairies in the warmer months.”
She could tell he loved the ranch from his proud tone, and Lillian envied him that connection to a special place. Would she still be here in two months? God help her, she hoped so. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to see where her relationship with Mitchell could lead.
Kurt pulled to a stop, glancing at Mitchell. “I’m going to check on the west pasture. Why don’t you show Lillian the falls and we’ll meet up with you there before heading back? I’ll put steaks on when we return.”
“Sounds good. About an hour?”
“That’ll work.”
“You’ll love the waterfall copse, Lillian. See you there.” Leslie waved as they nudged their horses into a gallop and took off, leaving her alone with Mitchell, the late afternoon sun warming her face as she turned to look up at him.
“It’s just you and me now. Are you ready to ride?” he asked, his breath wafting over her lips.
Oh, yeah, but probably not in the way he meant. More than the afternoon temperature was warming her now, and as he kicked Phantom into a butt-bouncing trot and then let him out in a full run across the meadow, more than the breeze and exhilarating ride were stirring her senses into high alert. The clomp of hooves pounding the ground, her squeals of delight and his low chuckles as they raced toward a row of trees echoed in the air. They were panting by the time he slowed down and entered the cooler shade of the woods at a brisk walk, winding along a wide path until they entered a secluded clearing.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, taking in the rushing stream that flowed over a small rise and emptied into a clear as glass pond, with an artist’s eye. “That’s why Leslie called it the waterfall copse.”
“Yes.” Dismounting, he reached up and lifted her down. “The first time I took Phantom out of the corral, we rode here. It’s peaceful.”
She gave him a sharp look, trying to detect what that note was behind his soft voice. As usual, his face revealed nothing of what he was thinking, and she found that as frustrating as the easy way he had of reading her every expression. Wanting to distract them both, she toed off her sneakers, asking, “Is it cold?”
“Frigid. You don’t want to do that, Lillian,” he warned as she bent to pull off her socks.
“Says who?” Skipping out of his reach, she laughed and dashed to the pond’s edge, getting a face full of cold misting spray from the splashing falls. Shivering but undeterred, she stuck her feet in and then jumped back out again with a squeal. “Okay, you were right.”
“Of course. Walk around some so your muscles don’t tighten up on you since you’re not used to riding.”
That smug reply followed by yet another order reminded her of her plans to turn the tables on him just once. She faced him to see him leaning against a tree, keeping his distance while watching her from under the brim of his hat. In that moment, she longed more than anything to bring a look of stunned surprise followed by pleasure to his face, the same as he’d managed with her numerous times.
Giddy excitement turned her palms damp and set her heart to racing as she sauntered toward him, a small smile curling her lips as she decided what she would do. “You know, Master Mitchell, I’ve never been naked outdoors, but I bet you have.” Whipping off her top over her head, she dropped it on the ground and reached for the front clasp of her bra. She was prepared for him to jump in and take over as she shrugged off her bra, but instead he gave her a moment’s pause with his unexpected, stern reply.
“We don’t have time to play today. Get dressed, Lillian.”
His gaze raked her bare breasts, her nipples turning to pinpoints from the cool breeze and his hot eyes, but he made no move toward her. Not one to give up on a plan once she put it into motion, she lowered her zipper and shimmied out of her jeans and panties, pasting on a bland, innocent expression as she asked, “Why not? We have almost an hour.” A shiver danced down her spine from the exposure to open air and his rigid stance. Goosebumps broke out as she moved toward him, even as liquid heat flooded her pussy.
Uh, oh. His jaw went taut and his nostrils flared as he growled, “I mean it. This isn’t what I planned today, so get dressed.”
Okay, that sealed it. It was time to show him he didn’t always get to call the shots. Besides, she was having fun switching things around for once. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mmmm.” Reaching him, she had his belt unbuckled and her fingers on his zipper tab before he knew it. “I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, you should be still or I might pinch you.” His erection pressed against the metal tabs as she slowly lowered it. He must have read the intent on her face because he sucked in a deep breath until his cock sprang free and landed in her hands. And then he swore.
“Fuck, pet, you’re going to pay for this,” he ground out as she sank to her knees.
Probably. But as she took him in her mouth, for the first time that threat didn’t faze her. With a ray of sunlight warming her back and butt, one hard hand braced on her shoulder, the other kneading her breast, all she cared about was giving him pleasure for a change and denying him his way for once. Gripping the base of his cock, she took him deep, swirling her tongue around his steely girth, suckling his hardness with her lips and cheeks.
Birds trilled overhead, the rush of water came from behind her and his harsh breathing blew hot on top of her head as she tickled the delicate underside of his crown. She smiled around his shaft as he jerked, nibbling along the ridged veins as she shifted her free hand to palm his heavy sac. He only gave her another minute to toy with him before clasping her face and holding her still while he took over. She wasn’t surprised but never dreamed the carnality of being held immobile while he fucked her mouth could be such a turn-on.
A moan slid up her throat as Mitchell pumped inside her mouth with short jabs and a guttural demand. “You started this, now finish it. Suck me hard, pet.”
Lillian quivered, hollowing her cheeks and giving him what he wanted, what he demanded. Rolling his balls in her hand, she reached between her spread knees with the other and slid her fingers between her slick folds. Suck, stroke, suck, stroke, she hummed inside her head, relishing the stretch of her mouth and taste of him seeping onto her tongue. He pulled back and she lapped over his seeping slit as she toyed with her clit. As he shoved back inside deep enough to bump her throat, she jammed her fingers far enough to touch her womb. She mewled around his hard flesh and gyrated against her palm. Her jaw grew sore, her hand tired and then he was spewing his cum down her throat as her climax soaked her pumping fingers.
By the time he released her to fall back on her heels, shaking from the experience, the sound of horses approaching reached her ears.
Disgusted with his lack of control, Mitchell zipped up and helped Lillian stand. Damn it, he’d planned to show her today how much he enjoyed her company even without sex, but he couldn’t turn her down after he saw the gleam in her eyes that hinted she was testing him in some way. Did she instigate and push this scene because she needed to prove to herself she hadn’t given him complete control over her, or was it just to surprise him with the role reversal? Either way, he couldn’t let her down any more than he could keep from taking over. Now, looking into her sated eyes and at the pleased smile playing around those soft lips, he was glad he’d set aside the urge to insist on sticking with his original plan.
Giving her a quick, hard kiss, he swatted her ass hard enough to burn. “Grab your clothes and get dressed. All of a sudden I’m starving for that steak Kurt mentioned.” With a laugh that drew his smile, she snatched up her jeans and was pulling her top over her head when Kurt and Leslie rode up.
Mitchell pulled into his drive Friday afternoon, his heart executing a familiar slow roll when he saw Lillian’s Mazda in the gara
ge. Was it just six weeks ago when she’d landed in a snowdrift and interrupted his retreat? Despite his irritation with her involuntary intrusion on his pity party, her own loss and grief coupled with that backbone of sheer grit had somehow wormed its way past his defenses. She was nothing like Abbie, or any of the submissive women he had hooked up with before he married or after his wife’s death. And yet, he mused, at this time in his life, he discovered she was just right for him, whom he needed and wanted going forward. The hows and whys didn’t matter, he figured, sliding out of his vehicle and striding up to the front door. Only that he could convince her they had something going between them that was good enough to warrant exploring further.
Entering the house, he veered toward the living room, wishing his first on-call shift at the Billings hospital didn’t start this evening. He would have liked to pour himself a drink before coaxing her into talking about staying. Instead, he went to the fireplace and lifted Abbie’s picture down, experiencing that little tug of nostalgia he always felt when he looked at her smiling face. She would always own a small corner of his heart, he didn’t and wouldn’t deny that to himself or Lillian. But, as he’d discovered these past weeks, his heart was big enough to love two special women, each in their own, different way.
Lillian heard Mitchell come in and added a few more strokes to her current painting before setting aside her paintbrush to greet him. With her hair pulled up and dressed in the long, flaring skirt she had bought to replace the one damaged in the fire and one of her paint-smeared tee shirts, she pondered changing first then squashed that idea. He’d seen her in similar disarray almost every day. Nervous anticipation rolled through her as she stood. She’d spent the morning in town, first opening an account at the bank and then having lunch with Nan and Avery, telling them of her plans to stick around for the foreseeable future. They’d been as thrilled as she’d been nervous, and she ended up leaving her jacket at the teashop.
Every time she thought of moving on, she couldn’t think of anywhere she would rather be, or people she would rather get to know better. After sleeping curled next to Mitchell every night this past week, her body still humming from his demanding possession every morning, her heart pounding from more than the sweeping ecstasy, the thought of being alone again turned her cold. He hadn’t said in so many words he wanted her to stay, and if she’d read him wrong and he didn’t want her to continue staying with him after the apartment repairs were finished, she wasn’t sure what she would do, where she would go from here. She was praying she wasn’t wrong.
Padding barefoot inside, she came around the corner to the living room, the giddy rush to see him turning to a gut-clenching wave of despair as she spotted him staring at Abbie’s picture on the fireplace mantle. The look on his face dashed her hopes that they could make something of their odd pairing, cutting her off at the knees. The profound love etched in every line of his face revealed how deeply he had cared for his wife, a submissive woman eager and willing to do his bidding day and night. And that wasn’t her. She’d grown to embrace and benefit from his sexual dominance, something she still struggled to accept, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t give him complete say so over her life. The month she’d lived under Brad’s thumb and demands had been the most difficult weeks of her life, and not just because of his threats against Liana and her sister’s hopeless condition.
I’ve been such an idiot. How could she hope to compete with what he’d shared with Abbie? She didn’t expect him to gaze at her with such an expression of devotion so soon in their relationship, but she was such a complete opposite of Abbie, of what he really wanted in a significant other, how could she hope he might come to care for her just as deeply? She must have made a sound because his head swiveled toward the door and he beckoned her forward.
“Why are you hovering over there? Come here.” He placed the picture back on the mantle and held his hand out to her.
She walked toward him, her heart thundering in her ears, stopping out of his reach and ignoring his hand as she looked at the picture. “You loved her very much.” Her voice wobbled but she didn’t care.
“Yes, I did. Something wrong, pet?”
Something snapped inside Lillian at hearing Mitchell call her that nickname, the one she’d switched from hating to liking and now, back to hating again. How dare he utter that endearment in that caressing tone seconds after mourning his one and only love? Lifting her arm, she knocked his hand aside as he reached out to her, stepping back with an icy glare.
“If you can’t respect my wishes regarding that degrading epithet then don’t talk to me.”
His lips tightened and he fisted his hands on his hips, giving her a glacial stare she refused to back down from. “If you have a problem, Lillian, tell me and we’ll talk about it.”
God, she despised the sneer in his voice when he said her name. “No problem, just asking for some of that respect you’re always demanding in return.”
She could tell he didn’t believe her and his words confirmed it. “Bullshit. What’s… fuck.” He grabbed his buzzing phone off the mantle, answering with a curt, “Doctor Hoffstetter.”
Lillian wasn’t disappointed when he replied to the caller, “I’m on my way,” and hung up. “Wouldn’t you know it? A trauma case is on its way into All Saints, a car accident. I have to go. We’ll finish this when I get back.” He started out, swung around, hauled her against him and ravaged her mouth in a kiss that left her shaken, needy and desperate to leave before she made a complete fool of herself.
Bryan watched the doctor walk out of his house and drive away just twenty minutes after arriving home, hoping against hope his chance to rifle through Lillian’s car for her camera was finally near. His patience in sitting here, biding his time for an opportunity to move fast without detection had been wearing thin. When he noticed she had started parking in the garage, he almost changed his mind and headed back to Utah empty handed. He had given himself a few more days, tonight being the last, before admitting defeat.
During the day, Lillian was either running around town or left the car in the drive, making it too risky to search it with neighbors so close by. At night, with the doctor in residence and her car locked in the garage, he hesitated to make a move under the new spotlights installed this week. But now, with dusk falling and Hoffstetter leaving with the garage door still open, his luck might be turning.
Casting a furtive scan of the street as he got out of his car, he followed the same route through the neighbor’s back yards to the rear of the doctor’s garage and sidled along the side and in through the open door, crouching until he reached the door handle on the passenger side of the Mazda. Putting his cigarette in his mouth, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found it unlocked. “Bingo,” he whispered, snatching the camera out of the glove compartment and backing out.
A startled gasp behind him drew a low curse as he spun around to see Brad’s ex staring at him wide-eyed, a suitcase in each hand.
“Bryan? What are you doing?” Her gaze went to the camera in his hand, her eyes going to narrow slits of suspicion. “What the hell are you doing with my camera?”
“Fuck!” Striding forward, he gripped her arm, his only thought to get out of there before the doctor returned. As he dragged her toward the back, he saw the moment she put two and two together and faced the fact there was no going back now. Her face paled as she dropped the bags and struggled in his hold.
Lillian shoved her fear aside as enlightenment dawned with the whiff of cigarette smoke. Swinging her free arm back, she slapped Bryan’s face with as much strength as she could muster, knocking the cigarette from his mouth. “You broke in upstairs and caused that fire.” She pulled against his bruising grip, digging in her feet as he kept going. “Damn it, why? Let me go!” she cried out.
Whirling on her, he drew a gun from behind his waist and pressed it against her temple with a snarl. “Shut up and move.”
Terror overruled her anger and she went with him, praying for an interventio
n before they got far. This had to do with his brother, there was no other explanation. But… shit. “It’s the pictures you’re after, isn’t it?” she panted as they reached a car parked around the corner. “You’re protecting that bastard again, aren’t you?”
Opening the driver’s door, he shoved her in ahead of him and she scooted as far away from him as the other door allowed. Going for the handle, she swore when it didn’t budge and he took off before she could unlock it, speeding down the residential street like a bat out of hell.
Grabbing hold for safety, she glared at him and repeated, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he snapped, running a nervous hand through his hair.
Before she could say anything else, he took the next corner with a squeal of tires, throwing her against the door as she saw Nan passing them, likely on her way to Mitchell’s house to return her jacket. Lillian had just enough time to mouth ‘help’ and prayed it would be enough.
Nan slammed on the brakes, turned around and memorized the license plate on the car before pulling over. Grabbing her phone, the image of Lillian’s frantic face as that man sped by giving her heart palpitations, she muttered, “Come on, come on, pick up… Grayson, oh, thank God.” She rushed to tell him what she’d just witnessed, rattling off the license plate number.
“I’m on it. Get hold of Dan and Mitchell.”
The sheriff’s brusque, no-nonsense tone eased Nan’s trembling as she hung up and called Mitchell and then her husband.
What the hell? Mitchell was halfway to Billings when the hospital called to tell him the victim was D.O.A. and he was no longer needed. He’d barely had time to regret the unexpected death when his phone buzzed again, and Nan’s news turned his blood ice-cold. Whipping around, he sped back down the highway as he put in a call to Grayson on speaker. “Talk to me, damn it,” he demanded as soon as his friend answered.
