Chapter Eight.
The moonlight stretched long shadows across the fields, silver light catching the edges of the distant mesquite trees. Frost’s jacket was warm against Constance’s back, her arms wrapped loosely around him, and for a moment, the world felt wide and unhurried—just them and the open road.
When they reached her place Frost killed the engine. The bike’s rumble faded into the evening chorus of frogs and cicadas. He waited for Constance to climb off before swinging his leg over getting off. He stood there for a beat, helmet in hand, taking her in: the soft breeze catching strands of her wild hair, the way her shoulders stiffened despite the calm of the countryside, the faint tension she carried like a shadow.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said, voice low, almost lost in the hum of the evening.
Constance hesitated, then gave a small, unguarded smile. “Would you… like to stay?”
Frost blinked, caught off guard by the question. Her eyes, earnest and wide in the soft light, searched his face, and the quiet urgency in them made him pause.
“I—” he started.
“I just… I don’t want to waste time,” she said softly, voice barely above the whisper of the wind through the mesquite. “Life can change on a dime. And I… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Her honesty struck him, sharp and clear in the spring evening. Without thinking, he set his helmet down and stepped closer, letting his hand brush hers.
“Alright,” he murmured, voice roughened with something like relief and desire. “I’ll stay.”
She exhaled softly, the sound carrying the weight of the day out into the quiet fields. Frost wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked toward the house.
*****
He stood watching Constance move around the kitchen. He smiled as she busied herself. She’d taken her jacket off and her long sleeve shirt. One of the thin straps on her tank top slipped off her shoulder making him want to taste that spot where it lay.
Moving around the island he placed a kiss on her shoulder, making her jump. He heard her laugh softly.
“You startled me.”
At the first touch, she stiffened from having hands touch her. It was the first time since Peter, seeing the way Frost looked at her made Constance relax. The feeling of his hands softly running over her arms felt wonderful. She remembered a time when hands touching her felt stiff, almost forced—a duty.
Listening to the rhythm of his breathing she leaned back against him. Wanting to feel more of him.
“Did I?” He asked as he turned her around, keeping her within his arms. Before she could answer him, Frost kissed her. It started off simple and light then became more intense.
When he stopped to look down at her, he knew she saw the want in his eyes. There was no doubt Frost wanted her as much as she wanted him.His mouth descended back down onto hers. His tongue wept into hers tasting her. Her hands shook as she unbuckled his belt and started to unfasten his jeans.
Frost felt her hands trembling and stopped the assault on her mouth and pulled his head back. “This…” he pointed to both of them, “this is your decision, Constance. If you aren’t feeling it, we stop.”
She saw the truth in his eyes, if she said she couldn’t he wouldn’t push her, wouldn’t be angry about it. “I’m …just nervous.”
Frost smiled, taking her hands from his waistband. “You set the pace that makes you feel comfortable.”
Neither of them said a word as he led her over to the sofa and dropped down on it pulling her onto his lap where he could take his time kissing her perfect mouth before exploring the rest of her body.
Constance closed her eyes, she shivered as Frost kissed her mouth, then her throat. Swallowing, she pulled back. “My choice.” She watched as he nodded. Climbing off his lap she took his hand, gently tugging him off the sofa. She led him through the kitchen past the bathroom and down the small connecting hallway finally she stopped in the bedroom.
Frost kissed her shoulder, “go on.” he told her, making her move further into the room.
Moonlight drenched the room in soft silver light. He moved around her leaving Constance standing at the foot of the bed. He walked around it stepping to the top.
He carefully folded the comforter down, when she went to help Frost told her no, “Kick your boots off.” He told her as he continued folding down the bed. When he moved to the other side passing her, he kissed her gently on the cheek.
Folding down the other side of the bed, “take everything off except your panties.”
Constance followed his directions all the while focusing on his movements as he turned down the bed and set the decorative pillows on the floor against the wall.
Stepping back to her, Frost leaned into her kissing her neck along her collarbone. He nipped at her throat then kissed along the side of neck all the way to her ear. “Take your panties off,” he whispered.
