Bet The Farm - Staci Hart Page 0,82
and still be surprised. He put on an unfeeling front, convincing everyone around him that he didn’t care. But the truth was, he cared so much, it nearly broke him. He’d never say it. But I felt it in the way he kissed me, in the way he touched me. It was a kiss always on the verge of longing, as if what he had would slip away. It was with a sense of presence, as if he needed to be here—right here—so he could remember every moment when it was gone.
He kissed me in such a way that exposed him, and what I saw broke my heart. It triggered some deep and aching desire to be everything he needed, to give myself to him so he’d know love was real and that he deserved it. Because I didn’t think he knew.
I made it a point to show him.
I hoped I already had.
My hand found its way between us, finishing its abandoned job to free him. Guiding him to meet me. Fitting him just inside of me. Letting gravity do the rest.
Our foreheads pressed together when I was seated, my body squeezing him, his throbbing in an echo. On trembling legs, I rose and fell, his face in my hand, our gazes locked. And then he pulled me down for a bruising kiss, guiding the rest of me with his free hand on my hip.
My body rolled against him, his lips breaking from mine to trail down my neck, my chest, pulling my strap over my shoulder to expose my breast to him. On I went, through the gentle graze of his teeth on the delicate flesh of my nipple, through the feel of his hands on me, desperate for skin. On I went, seeking pressure, seeking release. Harder I rode when he lost the wherewithal to touch me, his lips parted and panting against the flesh of my neck. He was close—I could feel it in the grip of his fingertips, in the swell of him inside me. I cradled his face, pulled back to see him, watched him until I was blinded by the hard burst of my desire. And watching me come was too much to stop him. A flex, a groan deep in his throat, and he grabbed my ass and took what he wanted, how he wanted it. And I gave it freely.
He lowered me slowly, wrapped his arms around me, buried his face in my breasts. And I cradled his head in my arms, kissed the top of his head. He listened to my heart beat.
And I wondered if he knew it was his.
24
Red and Blue
JAKE
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Olivia popped out of bed like a sleepy-eyed jack-in-the-box, scaring the shit out of me. I blinked at the clock. One thirty. Her room was silent other than the soft ping of rain on the windows.
“Was that the—” she started before another thump, thump, thump.
“What the fuck?” I muttered, flipping back the covers.
Olivia slid out of bed in the dark, reaching for her silky robe.
But I was already padding down the stairs, flipping on the porch light when I reached the door.
My heart jerked at the sight of Mack, wild-eyed and frazzled on the other side. His hair was damp, the shoulders of his Carhartt jacket dark from the rain.
I pulled it open with a whoosh. “What’s the matter?” I asked gravely.
“Th-the stock, Jake. We’re missing a herd.”
Instantly, I was awake. “What do you mean, missing a herd?”
“Just that. Number fifteen, every animal gone.”
I swore, raking a hand through my hair. “Wait here.”
The door was shut with a slam before he responded, and I was halfway up the stairs in a heartbeat. Olivia stood at the top, peering down at me.
“Missing?” she breathed.
“I’ll find them,” I promised as I passed her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She followed me into her room, flipping on the light as I tugged on my jeans. “I’m coming with you.”
“Just wait here. I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“If you really believe I’d just sit here by myself, you don’t know me at all.”
I would have chuckled if I wasn’t so worried. “All right, but wear something warm.”
“Sure, Dad,” she said from inside the sweatshirt she was getting herself into. She’d already put her jeans on.
Once my shirt was on, I hurried down the stairs, stuffing my feet into my boots. Olivia was behind me, pulling her hair into a bun when I opened the door again.
Mack