Homeward

by Frankie Love

  Then he leans over. And he kisses me.

  It’s a kiss that feels like coming home.

  Chapter Three

  Colton

  She just told me there have been a lot of men who didn’t respect her, and then here I am kissing her. Her lips are soft like rose petals and her hair smells like purple lilacs in the summer sun, and I could do this all night. But I don’t want to kiss her if she doesn’t want to kiss me.

  I pull back. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I should have asked.”

  Her dark eyes grow darker and her thick hair swishes in gentle waves as she shakes her head. “Don’t stop,” she says, her voice catching.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want--”

  “I’m sure,” she says, cutting me off. “I like this, being here, with you. It feels right. I feel... safe with you.”

  I clench my jaw, amazed at her vulnerability, the honesty that falls from her lips. No hidden agenda, no desperate clawing for my money, my fame, my notoriety. No. She just likes being here with me.

  Have I ever had a woman say such a thing to me? Care whether or not I could protect her, whether or not I could watch over her? Be her rock, a goddamn knight in shining armor? I push my fingers through Laila’s thick dark hair, the wine and cake forgotten, the sky dark, the night ours.

  “Kiss me,” she murmurs and so I do. I kiss her, pulling her into my lap, holding her there like she is right where she belongs. With me. A stranger.

  My palm cups her cheek, as her pink lips part, as I find her tongue and kiss her with abandon. Kiss her like we both need to be kissed. Kiss her like this is where we both should be.

  I run a hand over her back, wanting to touch her, to feel her. I want her bare skin under my hand, I want to explore each inch of her body. I want it all. Her.

  “Oh, Cole,” she moans between kisses, and my cock grows hard with her sitting in my lap, her ass against my length.

  “God, I want you, Laila,” I confess, my breath hot against her ear as I kiss her, inhale her. Make plans to devour her.

  “Take me to bed,” she whispers.

  I nod, standing, and she takes my hand in her hers, leading me through the house, plucking a key from behind the front desk. I grab my suitcase, and she leads me down a hallway to the last door on the left. I watch as she slides the key in the lock, turns the knob.

  As she unlocks the door I take in her slender hand, then her curvy hips, her round ass. Her long hair, the wavy locks tumbling down her back. She looks over her shoulder at me, and we share a smile that can only mean one thing: now.

  In the room, I drop the suitcase and she locks the door. The light of the moon filters through the sheer curtains and for a moment we stand still, staring at one another. Her eyes rake over me and I memorize her and I want it all.

  But mostly, I want that miracle this place promised.

  I want this night to never end, for her body to be on mine, for my hands to run over her skin and show her that not every man is a sack of shit. That not every man is looking for a piece of ass when they look at her.

  Because yes, she gets me hard, but when I stand here, looking at her, I see something else. Something more.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  I step toward her, my hands on her cheeks, my thumb running over her lips, cupping her cheeks, retracing her story. “When I look at you, I see a woman who is a fighter, who is strong. A woman whose story I only know a sliver of, but can already see that she is more than the sum of her past. She came here, to this valley, and carved her own destiny. That is courage, and that is fucking beautiful.”

  Tears well up in Laila’s eyes, and when they fall, I brush them away. I hadn’t expected her emotion, but I fucking feel what she feels. Everything.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks.

  “I’m not always like this,” I tell her honestly.

  “I don’t believe you. What you just said, those aren’t canned lines.” She blinks away the tears and licks her lips and her pink tongue is so cute and sweet and I want her. Bad.

  “What do you believe?” I ask her.

  “That everything happens for a reason,” she says softly, then she reaches up inside my soul and fucking sees me as the man I could be. Hers. Here.

  Miracles.

  I pull her to me, her lips on mine once more, and this time it isn’t a kiss, it’s a deep breath, it’s a long sigh, it’s the beginning of something real.

  I run my hands over her shoulders, kissing her deeply as she unbuckles my belt. We peel off shirts and pants and shoes. I unhook her lacy bra, she pushes down my boxers, I watch as she steps out of her panties. Within seconds, we’re left standing in nothing and we’re ready, both of us. To be undone.

  We collide, our bodies needy and wanting. Her skin so soft and smooth, and I run my hands over her, cupping her round ass, my fingertips tracing her hard nipples. Her breasts are full and big, and I want to push them together, around my cock, I want to kiss her areola, lick her nipples and run my hand between her thighs, feeling her warmth, her need.

  She whimpers as I kiss her, and her hand finds my growing cock, the thick ridges against her soft hands, and damn, I’m fucking scared I’ll lose it too damn fast. She overwhelms me in the best fucking way. She’s not sugary sweet, she’s a woman with depth and desire and no frills, no fuss. She’s sad and she’s alone and I want to make her happy. We can start with right now, with tonight.

  I lay her on the bed, and I lie beside her, wanting to look into her eyes and I explore her exquisite body.

  “Your body is so warm,” I tell her, careful to choose words that are sincere, that push me to look beyond her beauty and see her core. “I want to touch you, all of you.”

  “Please do,” she asks, leading my hand to her pussy. She rolls onto her back and I lean down, kissing her nipple, swirling my tongue over her hardened bud. Her knees drop as I run my hand over her mound, my fingers running up and down her creamy slit. Her cunt is ripe and ready, and when I slip a finger inside her, she’s so wet that I groan in pleasure.

  “God, your pussy is tight,” I tell her. “It feels so fucking good, Laila.”

  She closes her eyes as I touch her softly, my fingers fluttering over her folds, and even though I’m dying to move against her harder with my hand, to make her pussy pour with pleasure, I take my time, wanting her to open up on her own when she’s ready.

  “More,” she asks, and I oblige, my only desire is to make her happy right now.

  I move to the floor, kneeling before the edge of the bed, and I slide her down on the bed, so I’m right between her knees, then I dip my head and lick her creamy cunt. She moans as I flick my tongue over her swollen clit; it’s so hard and needy and it makes me want to get her off all the more. This girl has been through hell and back and I want to make her feel like she’s died and gone to heaven.

  I press my mouth against her pussy, her sweet, juicy cunt so warm against my lips. My tongue runs up and down her, flicking her the way I know she needs. She’s panting with desire, my beard tickling her pussy as I lick her. “You like that, baby?” I ask, and her moaning tells me that yes, she fucking loves it.

  I kiss her thighs, my fingers moving to her ready cunt, and I press one inside her tight little hole, my cock raging as I do. God, my cock wants to bury itself inside her, but first I want her to scream my name, to come against my hand as an orgasm rocks her fucking world.

  “Make me come,” she moans, and it makes me smile, her lack of inhibition, her want. She has been through some shit, but her body is new to me, we are new to one another, and that means when I touch her, all of it’s our firsts.

  The first time I flick my finger over her clit, she clenches the sheets as she begins to feel the pleasure rolling over her.

  The first time her knees buckle, as I dip a third finger into her creamy cunt and make her scream my name.

  The first time she comes against my hand, her back arching, her words loud and so goddamn clear.
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  “I need your cock, Cole. My pussy needs your cock so badly.”

  I move to the bed, leaning over her. Her face so sweet but her words so filthy. It turns me on, make me so fucking ready.

  “Where do you need my cock, baby?” I whisper, blowing in her ear. “Where do you need it?”

  “Right here,” she pants, guiding my pulsing length into her cunt. “Right here, Cole.”

  Chapter Four

  Laila

  I’ve been with guys before. Ones I knew for years. Ones who hurt me and hit me and never looked into my eyes, who never cared about my heart. They wanted my body and they took what they wanted.

  Cole is nothing like those guys. He is a man who doesn’t take… he gives. When he leans over me on the bed, his eyes search mine as if looking for an answer only I can give.

  I want to give it to him.

  All of it. All of me.

  “Oh, Laila,” he groans as he eases his cock inside of me. I wrap my arms around his neck, needing to hold on to something. Needing to hold onto him. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

  I nod. Never having been with a man like this before. One who is tender with me, holding me in his arms as if I am something precious. As if I am his.

  Tonight, I am.

  “I want this, Cole,” I whisper, our noses touching, my eyelids fluttering, my chest tight. Is this what everyone feels like when they give themselves to a man who asks permission? Because right now I feel absolutely seen.

  If it is, it’s all I want. His cock is big and fills me up in a way that makes me gasp, and he cradles me in his arm, kissing my forehead.

  “You’re so tight, baby,” he says, kissing my ear, sending hot air over my skin and making every inch of me tingle.

  I moan in a response, but words are lost on me. My body gives into this moment and I rock in rhythm with Cole. His strong chest and broad shoulders cover me, enveloping me with a sense of security, and yes -- on paper, he is nothing more than a stranger, but in practice, he is holding my heart.

  “Oh, god,” he groans, thrusting against me as I wrap my legs around him, he rolls me over on the bed, so I am sitting on top of him. Looking down at him I’m caught off guard by how handsome he is, yet when he looks at me he somehow makes me feel like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

  “God, you’re perfection, Laila,” he says as I rock my hips, his hands cupping my full breasts. I lean down, and he pulls my tits in his mouth, sucking them, tasting me. And my pussy tightens as a wave of desire rushes up and over me.

  “I’m so close,” I whimper as his strong hands hold my hips. My long hair falls in my face, the ends grazing his chest and he tucks a loose strand behind my ear, pulling my mouth to his. His tongue explores my mouth and every touch makes my heart pound in my chest. I’ve never felt so alive, so lovely, nor so wanted.

  Emotion floods me as an orgasm washes over me. “Ohh, Cole, yes. Oh , God, yes,” I cry, the sensations are so overwhelming. He holds me steady and I close my eyes, never wanting him to let me go.

  “Girl, I’m gonna come in you,” he tells me as if it’s a warning. I take heed.

  “Good, I need it,” I tell him. “I need you to fill me up.”

  And I do because when he does, tears prick my eyes and I lose myself in the ecstasy. I fall on his chest as we come together, my skin slick with sweat and his body hot against me. He cups my ass, kissing the top of my head as I lie in his arms.

  “What was that?” I ask when I finally catch my breath.

  “I have no fucking clue,” he says. I look up, propping my chin on top of my hands. “But it was the best sex of my life.”

  I laugh. And I’m not a laughing girl. I’m the sad one, the broken one. The mess and the mistakes.

  In Cole’s arms, I feel like more than that girl. I could be his girl.

  That causes my breathing to shallow, and it’s like an ice cold bucket of water is poured over me, waking me up and setting me straight.

  Cole doesn’t really know me. That is why this feels so good. If he really knew me, he wouldn’t want what he now holds in his arms.

  He should have a sweet girl full of sunshine and rainbows; a girl who believes she deserves a happily ever after. He has clear eyes and an easy smile; he is like a blanket of warmth, and the last thing he would want is to spend his life wrapping me up and keeping me tucked in, nice and tight.

  “I should go,” I whisper, already thinking about how late it is, how soon tomorrow morning will be here.

  “Don’t go,” he says. “You can sleep here.”

  “I can’t. I need to work tomorrow and...” My words trail off. How am I supposed to say the truth?

  I’m scared of you waking up and seeing me as a girl who grew up in a trailer park, who had sex for the first time when she was fourteen--with a boy who was really a man who should have never done what he did. A girl whose innocence was taken before she was ready. I’m scared you’ll ask me questions and find out I was a whore for the Badlands motorcycle gang. Caught in a cycle where I couldn’t get free. At least, not on my own.

  I don’t want Cole to know that. Right now he thinks I’m beautiful. I don’t want him to see me as I really am.

  “Thank you,” I whisper in the dark room, rolling from him. Inhaling him one last time. He smells like a man who knows who he is. Strong and confident and so damn sure of himself. And what he is is good. So, so, good.

  He reaches for my hand. “Stay.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, trying to stay strong, wanting to keep the memory of the night for what it was. One night, nothing more. One unexpected, perfect night.

  I don’t need more than that. I’ll be living on the memory of this night for years.

  I pull on my clothes, feeling Cole’s eyes on me and when I reach for the door he speaks. “Laila, you gave me a night I will never forget.”

  “Me either, Cole, me either.”

  Then I leave the B&B and walk to my apartment. Inside, I tiptoe to the bathroom, turn the shower on as high as it can go and step inside and replay the night in my mind as warm water tries to wash away the pain from the past. The pain I carry with me everywhere, every day. The heartache I can’t seem to erase.

  Chapter Five

  Colton

  I wake up, not knowing when I last slept so well. After Laila left, I thought I’d toss and turn all night, but when I rolled to my side, looking out the first-floor window, I saw her steal across the lawn to a cottage behind the farmhouse. Her hair trailed behind her as she ran, the moonlight shining down on her, illuminating her beauty, and she reminded me of the miracle I wanted to find.

  She is the miracle.

  I take a shower and pull on clean clothes, wishing I didn’t have to drive over the mountains. But I’m due in Linesworth today and I can’t skip out on work. I’m starring in the movie, for fuck’s sake. I’m just glad Rick and Rozzy didn’t find me over the last month. Going off the grid was a smart fucking move.

  Leaving the room, I roll my suitcase into the lobby with one goal in mind: Seeing Laila before I go and figuring out when I can see her again.

  Someone is singing an old Jackson 5 song down the hallway, and the voice carries toward me. “Morning,” the woman who was singing says, passing me and heading into the dining room. “Were you the late-night check-in?”

  “Yeah, Laila helped me. Is she around this morning?”

  The woman twists her lips. She’s traditionally beautiful: blonde hair, tall. The kind of woman I usually see on the movie sets. “She’s in the laundry room. She should be out soon.” Then she cocks her head. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  I shake my head. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself right now. “Don’t think so. I live in Los Angeles. Have you ever lived there?”

  The woman laughs. “Um, no. I’m from Wyoming originally.”

  “Nice state. Just drove through there.”

  “Nice?” The woman lifts her eyebrows. “Not sur
e about that. I only have bad memories of the place. I’m Ginny, by the way. Well, Virginia.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Are you hungry?” she asks.

  “Starved.”

  We enter the dining room and the scent of eggs and bacon fill the air. Hot coffee is in a percolator and fresh from the oven biscuits sit in a heaping basket.

  “Wow,” I say. “This is quite the spread.”

  “Thanks,” Virginia says. “Help yourself.”

  I take a plate and head down the buffet, keeping my head down as I find a table, not wanting attention from other guests. I’m dreading getting to Linesworth and being back in the spotlight. Out here in the country, no one seems to care or give any mind to who I am or where I’m from.

  I look out the window as I eat, taking in the rolling hills and the mountain scaling behind them. The sun is out and birds are chirping, and I even see a deer jumping through the field. This place is more than a miracle. Hell, it feels like magic.

  After I finish up, I push away from the table, disappointed that I haven’t seen Laila. But as I walk back into the lobby, I see her behind the front desk.

  My face breaks out in a smile as I take her in. She’s wearing loose-fitting overalls with a white tank top. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a red bandana and she has on a pair of white Converse low tops. It’s adorable and refreshing and so down to earth.

  “Hey,” I say, our eyes meeting as I step up to the desk.

  “Oh, hey, Cole,” she says softly, looking away.

  Frowning, I reach over the desk, setting my hand on top of hers. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, just have a long to-do list to get through today.”

  “Sure that’s it?”