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I stumbled out of his hold with enough time to step into my dress and pull it up enough to cover the important bits.
Turner’s eyes popped wide, and I reached for the door. My stomach must have made a sound, or it was my hand that covered my mouth while the rest of me turned a sickly green that clued him in. He stepped forward, and I yanked the door open. I don’t think I could have moved that fast if the idea of cleaning my sister’s floor hadn’t pushed my loopy legs out the back door.
The projectile of my vomit didn’t clear the stairs. I was still retching when Turner’s palm rubbed at my back. I eliminated everything in my body, including my stomach. Surely it came up with the rest. I coughed and gagged some more before everything finally subsided.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I managed a nod as he spoke on.
“For a second, I thought maybe it was me and you just didn’t want to, you know.”
He laughed and I found myself with a half-grin, half-sour look. “Sorry.”
He held my face in his tender hands and kissed my forehead. “I’ll go get the bucket.” He handed me a towel from out of nowhere. “I would kiss you, but you still have a bit there in the corner of your mouth.”
Mortified, even though he wore a smile, I swiped at my face and looked at my hand in the moonlight. The smell of whatever it was hit my nose, and I began dry heaving.
When he came back, the bucket was full. Apparently, the pipes weren’t frozen. He took the towel still in my hand and dipped a clean corner in before handing the rag back to me. I wiped at my mouth while he doused the stairs with water and went for more. I stood a distance away, wanting to help but afraid my stomach would roll in anger.
When the stairs were free from all that I’d puked, we headed back inside. He closed the door and stepped to me, taking his time to undress me. This was the moment I longed for indoor plumbing.
Turner stood gazing at me, waiting on my cues to tell him what I needed. The way he took care of me melted every part of me.
In the tiny room, I just stood there and watched his expression in the moonlight coming through the small window. My clothes hit the floor and I was left in my bra and panties.
His hand grasped a corner of the quilt and lifted it. I got inside and waited. He, however, fell across the other small bed not three feet away in the tiny room.
“You’re not going to lie with me?”
“As much as I want to, I can’t be good right now. And you need to sleep. We have tomorrow.”
Unable to protest and suddenly very tired, I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.
I woke to words I longed to hear. “Lass, there you are. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“Kalen.”
His hands touched my bare skin, and I wondered when I had completely undressed.
“It’s been too long, lass. I can’t wait any longer to be inside you.”
He was between my legs. He raised my hips, and I felt the tip of him nudge at my opening. “God, I love…”
I waited. I waited for him to say you at the end of that sentence.
“To be inside you.” With one thrust he filled me. He hadn’t prepared me and it had been so long. There was a flash of pain before I rode the currents of pleasure from his movements. He rocked into me over and over again. His cry of orgasm sent me tumbling into bliss.
Twenty-Two
Dawn was like the splash of warm water that brought me from the murky depths of sleep. Turner slept like he was on a dock with one leg hanging off the side of a bed that was too small for his tall frame and myself to share.
Kalen wasn’t there. Yet, my dreams of him had been vivid. I got up and decided it was best to go to my parents’ to freshen up. Though, my dreams had been silent and my own, Turner had still been there. Thankfully sleeping, not aware of how my subconscious thoughts were cheating on us.
Being at home allowed the shame of my behavior last night, and my dreams, to fill my heart. Though I’d come so far in owning my choices, being here I felt that empowerment slipping through my fingers.
I walked in and found my mother at the table folding laundry.
“Mother.” It had only been two days, but it felt like a lifetime.
She opened her arms, and I skirted the table to fly into them. She smelled like home, and I had missed her more over the last few years than I realized.
