Page 42 of Fall or Nothing

I settled on the bed, writhing and beckoning him, my hands caressing my body, moaning his name as he watched.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll never forget me,” he promised, his voice thick as he rolled on the condom.

The sight of him, his golden skin, muscles, his hard cock—“I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” I reached down, hands on my ankles, and spread myself wider for him, welcoming him in.

He eased inside me at first, until it got tighter, stretching and filling me completely. I kept my eyes on him while his hand rested lightly at my throat, thumb brushing my jaw so I couldn’t look away. If only I could memorize every flicker of pleasure crossing his face, the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened as he thrust deeper inside of me.

“Mm. Carter, so good.” My hand slid between us to my clit, working myself up again.

“So fucking good. You’re taking all of me, and still I want to give you even more.” With deep, slow, concentrated strokes penetrating my tight walls, he found the perfect rhythm. His whispers continued in my ear, dirty things, lovely things, all the things he’d like to do with me. Each one pushed me to the edge, higher and higher until a dam burst inside of me.

I came first and hard, clenching around him, wetness seeping out, legs squeezing his middle. He followed right after, burying his face in my neck as he spilled, moaning my name, holding me tight like he never wanted to let go.

I wished he never would.

“That was… incredible,” he breathed, chest heaving, his cock still hard inside of me.

“I’ll take the compliment,” I whispered, smiling against his hair.

“You most definitely should.”

We laughed, rearranging and staying tangled together afterward. With my head on his chest, his fingers traced figure-eight patterns on my back. The way he felt right here with me in this moment, I wasn’t supposed to like it this much. But I did.

FOURTEEN

Distracted

CARTER

Latin.Lavandula vera. True lavender.

I sometimes dreamed in Latin in my sleep, a bad habit from college. I reached for Sage across the mattress and came up empty. The clock on the nightstand and the darkness at the window told me it was still night. She must have folded my jeans—they were waiting for me on the pillow like a quiet invitation to leave.

Was she in a hurry to kick me out? The thought twisted in my chest. I pulled them on, leaving the fly unbuttoned, and slipped out to find her.

She was curled on the couch under a fuzzy blanket, the soft glow of the TV lighting her face. The pizza box lay open beside her, and two glasses of wine plus water bottles waited on the coffee table.

She had my Henley on. A sign that I wasn’t getting kicked out anytime soon. Good. Because I didn’t want to sleep in the bunkhouse if I didn’t have to. Not when I could have her warm and soft against me.

“Hey. I wondered where you were.” I took the bottle of water and guzzled it.

“You seemed like you could use a nap. You definitely earned it. And I was hungry,” she grinned and tossed back the blanket, patting the cushion next to her. I slipped in, stretching an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled close while an old movie played on low.

Talk and laughter came easily between bites and sips. I learned about her family orchard and the meticulous notes her father left in some journals about how to care for it, that her sister Daisy attempted to follow to the letter.

“I’d love to read those.” That was the truth. How badly I wanted to tell her about a family friend and his orchard over in Italy. I’d spent a harvest season there during college, and could imagine taking her there someday to pick apples together, her hand beside mine. But I couldn’t say any of that without blowing my entire cover.

“If you stay… you could read them.” Her eyes met mine, hopeful and unguarded.

I brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger. “If only things were different.” The words tasted like ash. I wanted them to be true so badly that it hurt.

I shifted in my seat, scratching my beard.

“What things?” She pursued this line of thought. I couldn’t blame her, my smart girl. She probably could see right through me more than she wanted to admit.

I itched the beard again, thinking how to answer. Tonight, these whiskers drove me nuts.

“I’ve wandered this world a bit aimlessly, I guess. Never really settling down. Always searching for something, but Idon’t know what. Maybe I’ll know it when I find it.” It was the best answer I could give, one straddling the truth.