It is so good to just feel anything, and I work myself higher, reaching for the release I haven’t had in forever. But it isn’t enough. Even imagining what it would be like with Casey’s mouth between my thighs isn’t enough to quite get me there, and after a while I stop, breathless with effort and frustration.
My eyes wander toward the window. This one faces the Bowman farm. His house isn’t quite visible, obscured by trees between here and there, but Casey is there. Alone. Possibly shirtless.
Fuck.
The past few years with Tyler, sex has dropped off. I had to work hard to get him excited, and I assumed that was due to work stress and the natural evolution of a long-term relationship. He initiated sex but he’d never taken initiative. He never went out of his way to make me feel sexy or loved.
Apparently, Casey thinks I’m sexy. I’m surer than ever that he was hard when we hugged. Just a simple hug. And though it was me who dragged us into the woods, Casey followed me willingly and took it further. He’d taken his time. He’d made sure it was amazing for me too.
That night was the last time I’d really done anything that…brazen. Or rather, the last time I’d done it successfully. When the sex with Tyler started to slow down, I bought some sexy lingerie and tried to lure him into the bedroom with it one night. He looked me up and down and said he wasn’t ready for bed, but that he’d be in shortly.
He apologized later, and we had good sex, but I never did that again. Tyler only wanted sex on his terms. Every time I initiated sex, he seemed grumpy and put out.
How had I never seen all these signs? Was I so starved for affection that I’d just been blinded to the fact that he wasn’t as invested in our relationship as I was?
Does Casey still make that noise when he comes?
As quietly as I can, I get out of bed and dress. No coveralls this time. Warm clothes—but actual clothes. I’m not about to do this in shapeless coveralls. My boots too. Hat and scarf.
The window slides open soundlessly, and I silently thank my mother for this. She makes sure that Dad keeps the house in top condition, and she hates squeaky windows. Though if she imagined what silent windows would be used for, she never said anything.
I’ve never sneaked out of the house before. That was all Jessica. I’m sure that people thought we both did it, but I was always too chicken.
That changes tonight.
It’s almost too easy. The roof of the porch is right outside the window, and swinging down to the railing is a breeze. I don’t think I would have thought it was easy in high school. I would have been terrified and nervous. Right now, I have nothing to lose and no fucks to give.
This time I don’t bother to head out to the road, I cut straight through our fields. A light snow is falling, and it’s dark with only the moon shining, but I know this route by heart. Casey was the literal boy next door. We played together in these fields and ran back and forth between our houses more than I can even remember.
More than one time, the cries of ‘Casey and Carley’ had been chanted at us on the playgrounds at school—usually started by Jessica. We disagreed.
Maybe we would have found our way to each other sooner if we hadn’t been teased about it. When we started seeing each other, we kept it secret, only meeting a few times behind the school to kiss until we were breathless. Neither of us wanted the attention that would come from actually being ‘Casey and Carley.’
When we left the fireworks together and headed into the woods, it felt like it was inevitable. Like the world had been guiding us toward that moment forever, and we just had to let it happen.
Tonight, walking to his house feels a little like that.
Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m just tired and heartbroken and looking for someone to make me feel something, but I don’t really believe that.
That night was supposed to be the beginning of something. Not the end of it. But my misunderstanding and his embarrassment had cut it short. What would our lives have looked like if that hadn’t happened? Would I still have left for college? Would I still have met Tyler and fallen in love anyway? Or would Casey and I have found happiness here in Elgin? Somewhere else?
All those what-ifs are crowding in my brain. And the only thing that will soothe them is seeing him again. That and the fact that I want him. Deeply and desperately. I need to feel him again and know if it can still be as good as it was the one and only time we were together.
As I cross through the patch of woods that shields his house from the road, I hear music for the second time today. But this time it’s not loud, brassy, classical music. It’s a simple guitar melody, soft and clear, ringing across the snow.
I get a little closer, and now I hear his voice. It’s smooth and tenor, with soul that makes me ache. Stepping out of the woods, I see him.
Casey is sitting on his porch with a guitar, sitting in a pool of light like he’s performing on a stage. I don’t dare move closer, because I don’t want him to stop singing. It’s too beautiful, and I don’t want to wreck this moment. With the snow falling and the moon shining, it’s like something out of a movie.
The song he’s singing…it’s a love song. But a mournful one. About a love that was lost. The lyrics are haunting. About a girl he loved who left him behind. She had golden hair and green eyes. They were lovers in the sky while the sky exploded.
Pure, unadulterated shock roots me to the spot. That’s the story of us. Our story. The love song he’s singing is about me. When did he write this? While I was trying to avoid him over a mistake that never actually happened? Or after I’d left Elgin and was completely out of his reach?
My heart hurts thinking about a younger Casey, pouring his heart out into lyrics. Over me. The moon blurs as I tear up, and I listen to him sing the rest of the song.
6
Casey
I strum the last notes of the song and they echo into the darkness. It’s like a blast from the past. I haven’t sung this song in years, but seeing Carley today brought it back and I had to let it out.
There isn’t any hiding from the emotions that are flooding me now. We were young, sure, but I loved Carley. I think I’d loved her since we were kids, but we never wanted to be those people. The kids that grew up together and that everyone expected to be married straight out of high school. So we held back, until one day, neither of us could do that anymore.
But I loved her. And when she stopped speaking to me and left…I broke. And after I wrote this song, I shoved it all down and buried that fact deep. So deep that it never really healed. Now she’s here again and she’s not married and not engaged, and my heart is screaming that she’s meant to be mine.
But how can she be? What kind of man am I if I try to convince her to come back to me only days after her engagement broke up?
I sigh. The night is cold and clear enough though the flurries are whirling around. The snow is muffling all the sound, except for the low sound of the heater. I installed it a few years ago while Dad was sick. Mom used to like to sit out here at night with him, but the cold wasn’t good for his health. This made it possible to sit outside almost every night of the year.
It was nice.
And remembering my parents brings me back to Carley. Because my parents truly loved each other. The kind of love that’s rare and precious and that you can only really hope to find for yourself. At this point, I’ve given up hope.
I’ve dated my fair share, and there’s no one left. I decided a year ago that there isn’t anyone for me. No one that makes my heart leap the way that Carley did.
A shuffling sound draws my attention. Footsteps. Too even for it to be a bear, and too heavy to be a wolf. It has to be a person. Who’s out here on my property after dark?
Out of the darkness, I see Carley step into the edge of the porch light. Of course.
Of course, it’s her.
And I was singing her song just minutes ago. The chances that she didn’t hear it are almost non-existent. All that emotion that I’d poured ont
o the page as a teenager with a broken heart.
I try to think of a way to justify why I’m singing that song now. That I was grown and past it all, and not pining for her still like a lovesick teen. But seeing her right now, wild blonde hair peeking out of her hat, green eyes glassy with emotion, there’s no possible explanation. My heart still belongs to Carley Farrell. It always has, and right now I’m sure that it always will.
The clothes she’s wearing aren’t the same. Not the shapeless cover-alls of this afternoon. No, she’s wearing jeans that look like they’re painted on her skin, and a shirt with a jacket that shows me exactly the curves that I imagined. God, I want to touch her.
Carley doesn’t say anything as she comes closer. Slowly, hesitantly. Like she’s unsure of herself for being here. But she still came. She’s thinking about me the same way that I’ve been thinking about her.
I set my guitar down on the seat next to mine, and stand as she climbs the steps onto the porch. We’re trapped in a moment, and it doesn’t feel right to speak.
She stops right in front of me, once again her breath shivering visibly into the air. The only sounds are those of our breath and the buzz of that heater. Though right now I think I’m hotter than the damn thing. I’m a fucking inferno, burning for this beautiful woman in front of me.
Carley doesn’t speak, and she’s not looking at me. She’s staring straight into my chest, and I see her fingers twitch like she wants to reach for me and doesn’t dare to. But we can do this. Carley was the one that pulled us into the woods all those years ago. I can take the lead here. I’m happy too. I want to lead Carley to pleasure again and again, and then I don’t want to ever let her go.
I tilt her face up to mine and take in those eyes. They’re so beautiful and so perfect. Green depths that I could get lost in forever. And I want to. Right now, her gaze is reaching mine, looking for the answer to the question that she’s asking.
Slowly, I brush my lips across hers. Nothing but a light kiss, testing to see if this is why she’s here. Carley gasps, and I kiss her again. Softly. Gently. Trying not to break this delicate moment. And then she kisses me back.
Neither of us rush, testing these new waters. But God, it’s taking every ounce of will that I have to keep it slow and not consume her all at once. Carley raises her arms and puts them around my neck, and I slip my arms behind her back and pull her hard against me. I’m not letting her go. Not now.
She gasps again under my lips and I deepen the kiss. She tastes sweet. Like apple cider and sugar and cinnamon. All good and warm things. I tease her tongue with mine, drawing it out to dance.
More fire is unleashed inside me. A kiss hasn’t set me ablaze like this since the last time that we kissed. I need more of her. All of her. I kiss her harder and she meets me with the same energy. The same passion. Trying to consume each other until we’re both out of breath and still trying not to stop.
Carley’s hands slide down my shoulders and inside my jacket, stroking down my body until she finds the hem of my shirt and starts to explore underneath it. Her hands are cold from her walk over here, and they feel like ice on my overheated skin. The contrast makes me shudder. I have a vision of her cold hands stroking my very, very hot cock and wonder how it would feel.
I groan into the kiss as she traces the ridges of my stomach with her fingers, hands quickly warming as she absorbs my heat. But still her hands burn me. Brand me. Mark me in an invisible way that she’ll never understand.
There’s no way we’re making it upstairs to my bedroom. I want to spread her out and take her slowly, but that can happen later. Right now, I need to be inside her, and I don’t think that either of us can wait even the seconds to make it inside. Thank fuck there’s a heater out here.
“You know what I thought about today?” she asks quietly.
“Tell me.”
“That night,” she says, tugging on my jacket and pulling me down to the porch floor. “It was so good that I almost turned you over and rode you again. Before I saw the condom.”
I pull her down onto my lap, immediately catching where she’s going, but I kiss her again first. “You want to ride me, Carley?”
She shudders in my arms. “Yes.”
I set her back a little, stretching and reaching to undo my belt. Letting myself out of my jeans, déjà vu hits me hard. This is all desperately familiar, and I love it. I want her anyway she wants, and both of us need to relive this—to see if us together now matches the memory that we’ve created.
My cock was hard the minute she stepped onto the porch, and she stares at it now. She licks her lips before looking back up at me and I feel faint because all the blood in my body is flooding downwards to make sure that I’m as hard as fucking steel.
“When we hugged this afternoon,” she whispers, “you were hard?”
“As a rock.”
“A hug did that to you?”
She’s not mocking me with the question, she’s genuinely curious what about her turned me on. As if there is a single thing about her that doesn’t set me on fire. “No,” I say. “I was hard before that. As soon as I heard you laugh.”
A small intake of breath. “My laugh?”
I pull her closer again. “I love your laugh,” I tell her. “It’s wild and free and beautiful.”
“But,” she says, face confused, “why would that make you want me?”
I make a sound that’s nearly feral. “Carley, there’s nothing about you that doesn’t make me want you.” She’s staring at me in awe. Like I’ve said something that absolutely blows her mind. “Now ride my cock the way you wanted to.”
Those words unlock her movement, and she unbuckles her jeans slowly. I want her to go faster, but she has to be the one to do this. I flash back to that night, both of us writhing on the ground, desperate to get our clothes off enough to be with each other. This is the same. Carley gets her pants off just enough to take me, and then she’s sinking down on my cock and we both moan with the sensation.
Her pussy is so much hotter than the cold air, and she’s so tight, hugging around my dick like a glove that was made for it. Fuck, she feels amazing. Inch by tantalizing inch the drops down onto me until I’m in her completely.
Carley’s breath is coming in tiny gasps, and she holds onto my shoulders, eyes closed. I can tell she’s adjusting to my size, pussy squeezing down on me again and again like a reflex. I fucking love it. I want to thrust up into her until she absolutely screams my name, but I wait.
I can hardly believe that this is real. How many times have I dreamed about that night in the woods? How many times have I wished that I could recreate or relive any part of it? And now to have her here in my arms doing exactly that…
It sends me to the edge like I am still a teenager.
Carley’s eyes open, locking onto mine. There’s light in those eyes, and new fire. She’s ready for me. Leaning forward, she’s the one who kisses me this time as she rocks her hips. Even the tiniest movement is enough to make us both shiver.
It’s like the last time. Our bodies seemed to sync up that night and create passion and pleasure that two virgins didn’t have any right too. It was amazing, but it was also short. Frantic. Beautiful. I want this to be more.
I lean back onto the porch and bring her with me so we’re face to face while she’s on top of me, and we both have more leverage. Dropping my hands to her hips, I guide her as she rocks, winding up into a rhythm.
She closes her eyes and works herself up and down my cock, lips parting in pleasure as she searches for what makes her feel good. I love watching her, seeing the tiny movements of her face that tell me when she finds the perfect angle. I’ll remember them for later. And when her mouth drops open further in a moan, I help her. Locking her in place, I thrust up sharply, burying myself in her again, and again, and again.
Carley’s eyes open, locking on mine again as we both move. Faster now that we’ve found what we need. Both of us desperate for this release. I need to see her co
me. Want to hear the moans that I remember—the way her voice turns throaty and deep as she cries out in perfect pleasure.
Reaching between us, I search for her clit with my fingers—something I had no knowledge of the first time we were together. I touch her, sliding across her skin with her own wetness, and she shudders. “Casey,” she says, her voice already turning to that tone I remember. “Please.”
I let myself go. Pulling her hips down onto me I fuck her hard, driving myself up into her with frenzied strokes exactly where she needs me to. Every thrust lets me grind against her clit, and I watch Carley lose her breath entirely. She sits back, still riding me, head thrown back as she surrenders completely, and comes.
The sounds she makes bring me straight to the edge. Her pussy grips my cock like the best kind of vise and suddenly I’m right there, unable to hold back. And I’m not wearing a condom. Fuck.
“Carley,” I say, unable to stop pushing into her, trying to hold myself back. “I’m going to—I’m not wearing—”
Carley drops down to kiss me, still panting from her own orgasm. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “Please. I need you to.”
I see white, orgasm ripping through me like a lightning storm. It’s the sharpest, sheerest pleasure I’ve ever experienced, and I can’t stop fucking her, wanting more, needing more. I explode inside her, pure male satisfaction filling me as I spend myself into this woman that I’ve loved my entire fucking life.
She whimpers in my ear, Pussy spasming in a second orgasm, and she holds onto me as I fuck us both into pleasure. Until it fades and we’re both trying to get back the breath that we’ve lost.
Carley pushes up and back and entirely in the other direction until she’s laying on my legs, still impaled by my cock. I sit up, drawn by the urge to see that. The last time I didn’t have a chance to see my dick buried inside her and I want to see that. But even now, her pants are too in the way to really see it clearly.
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 37
