Leaning down, he places his mouth on the skin of my inner thigh. I jump in response, threading my fingers in his hair as he moves closer to the center, pausing just long enough to rip the last of my underwear away.

  The first pass of his tongue over my clit has me rising off the bed. “Oh, God …” I’m writhing, but he holds me in place with his strong arms.

  Little sucks, little kisses, and my orgasm explodes through my belly, sending shimmers of pleasure to the arches of my feet.

  “Oh, yes…” I gasp, rocking my hips as he continues, drawing my orgasm out impossibly long.

  He’s gone an instant, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand and quickly rolling on a condom. My knees fall together, my body still shimmering with bliss as I watch the ripples of his muscles, the flexing of his fine ass, the bobbing of that massive cock. I chew my lip in anticipation.

  When he turns to me, I reach for him. That simple act seems to change everything. He slides onto the bed beside me, cupping my cheek with his hand.

  What can we say? He doesn’t try to find the words. Warm lips cover mine, and I open to him eagerly, curling my tongue against his, tasting myself mixed with rosé wine. His lips move to my cheek and to my ear, giving it a nip. My orgasm is cooling, but I ache for him.

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, I push him onto his back and straddle him. My stomach is flat against his, and he cups my ass with both hands, guiding me to his erection. Our eyes hold each other’s, and I feel him right there.

  Heat surges between us, and I lower myself in one swift movement the length of his shaft. He’s balls deep, completely filling me, stretching me, and his eyes squeeze shut. I exhale a satisfied moan at the same time a deep groan aches from his chest. It’s thrilling, and at this angle, I feel so powerful, like I have some control over this amazing man.

  Lifting myself up, I start to rock my hips. My eyes close, and I’m riding him like a champ, circling my hips and massaging my clit as I rise up and down faster.

  “Fuck, yeah.” He grips my ass, helping me move, lifting me and pulling me down. It’s thrilling and sexy, and I’m about to come again.

  “Keep doing that,” I gasp. “Move me.”

  He does as I ask, lifting me and driving me down. I watch his muscles flex, until the irresistible tightness shatters in my stomach.

  “Oh, yes.” My head falls back, and he’s still working my hips.

  My insides clench and pull, and I feel it when he breaks with a loud groan. His hand rises to my back, and he quickly flips our position, putting me under him and seating himself all the way as he pulses, groaning through his release, filling the condom.

  We’re both panting and slick with sweat. He holds me to him, kissing my cheek, making his way to my mouth again. Our lips seal together, and this time it’s different. We’re not desperate or hurried. It’s relaxed and confident.

  Patton’s words are in my mind. I don’t know if this is good or bad, but I do know it feels right. I only hope that when it’s time to sort it out, I don’t end up losing everything.

  20

  Patton

  The room is dark, and I’m holding her in my arms. Her breathing is smooth and rhythmic. Every now and then she makes a cute little noise, almost a snore, but not quite.

  What am I doing? For so long, conquering the business world, making my own name in my dad’s office were the most important things to me. Making sure Taron and Marley were taken care of was a close second.

  A relationship would only slow me down. Not because I don’t want one, but because when I find the right woman, I want to treat her right, give her things, take care of her.

  Is that what this is?

  Shifting in the bed, I fight against the idea. I’ve only known this girl a week, one week. Sure I knew her sister. Yes, I’ve read her résumé. We’ve talked a lot, and I feel like I know her.

  It’s too fucking soon.

  But these feelings won’t be denied.

  I’m at peace when I’m with her. Even in the face of the nightmare waiting at home, she puts my mind at ease.

  With a little snort, she lifts her head, dark hair spilling around her shoulders. Her eyes are closed, but her face is to me.

  “What is it, beautiful?” The tenderness in my tone is something new, something I don’t recognize. Have I ever been tender?

  “Oh!” Her chin drops, and she places her cheek against my skin. “I didn’t know where I was for a minute.”

  “You’re with me. Go back to sleep.” I’ll keep you safe.

  Can I make that promise?

  I feel her cheek rise with her smile, and just as fast, her breathing smooths out again. I lie awake for several minutes longer, before eventually the warmth of her body, the sound of her breath, lulls me to sleep.

  Sunlight streaming through the enormous glass windows burns my eyes. Holding up a hand, I climb out of bed and cross the room to pull the heavy drapes closed. I take a brief look at the valley before I obscure it. It’s going to be a perfect day.

  Walking to the bed, I let my eyes drift down Raquel’s body. Her back is exposed, long and smooth, and so beautiful. I open my nightstand drawer and set a condom beside the lamp. Sliding between the blankets, I turn her so her cute little ass is against my pelvis. My morning wood is aching for her, but I’ll give her time to join the party.

  Her back arches, and she reaches for my face, threading her fingernails through my beard. “Is that a wrench in your pocket?”

  A smile curls my lips, and I kiss the back of her neck. “I’m happy to see you in my bed.”

  “Naked.” She does a little hip swish, and I reach behind me for the condom.

  It’s open and rolled on in record time, and I’m holding her by the waist again. “How did you sleep?” My lips are at her ear, and her shoulder rises.

  “Your breath tickles.”

  Sliding my hand down her flat stomach, I slip my fingers between her thighs. Her back arches again as I touch her gently, circling and massaging her clit before dipping my finger inside to find her wet and ready.

  “Oh!” She gasps, and I love the noises she makes when I fuck her.

  My fingers are gone, and I take a moment to line up with her before sinking deep into her warm, clenching depths. She’s so snug around me. She feels so good. I begin thrusting my hips, and she’s backing her ass up to meet me.

  Fumbling to her legs, I slip my fingers between her thighs again, stroking and massaging as we rock together. Her long hair falls over my shoulder, and her little cries fill my ears. My cock is aching and hard, and I can’t hold out much longer. I reach up to cup her small breast, pinching the tight nipple between my fingers. She lets out another whimper.

  “Come for me…” I speak in her ear, giving the back of her neck a little bite, and she shudders.

  “Do it again.” Her voice is a gasp, and I’m quick to comply.

  Truth is, I love burying my face in her hair. My eyes close, and I inhale deeply of ginger and coconut. I trace my lips up the back of her neck, moving them behind her ear, and she lets out a little wail. Her insides break into spasms, and she’s jerking and bucking against me.

  With a low groan, I let go. It’s blinding pleasure, almost excruciating, and I hold her tight to me, driving as deeply as I can as the orgasm blankets my mind.

  We’re panting, our skin slick where it touches. I lean down to kiss the top of her shoulder, and again it rises.

  It makes me laugh. “You’re so sensitive this morning.”

  “Your whiskers tickle.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “Sorry.”

  “No!” She threads her fingers in mine. “I like it.”

  She starts to move away, and I reach down between us to dispose of the condom. I hop out of bed and only take a moment to clean up and return. She’s lying on her side with the sheet draped across her breasts watching me.

  A sly smile is on her lips. “Do we have any plans for today outside of bed?”

  “We do. Starting with your first request from last night.” Her soft brow furrows, and I take her hand. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to get pancakes.”

  The Fancy Chicken Café is a red and white striped building filled with taxidermied and animatronic chickens. It even has oversized plaster hens and roosters on the roof outside.

  “It says more than one hundred chickens sing… I didn’t know chickens sang.” Raquel looks up at me with wide eyes, and I only shake my head, holding the door.

  “You wanted pancakes.”

  “There are twenty different pancake restaurants on this street alone.”

  “The one my family took me to closed.”

  Raquel starts to speak, but a hostess dressed in a red and white-checkered uniform and a white bonnet interrupt us.

  “And a Cockadoodley-do-day to you! Welcome to the Fancy Chicken! Table for two?”

  We both stare at the friendly girl for a beat.

  Raquel is the first one to find her voice. “Yes! Sorry. Table for two.”

  “And-a right this way!” The girl does a little swoosh of her fluffy skirt and leads us to a booth by the window covered in red and white checked tablecloth. “Your server will be right with you. Can I get you some drinks?”

  “Coffee,” we both say at once.

  She nods and disappears, and Raquel’s eyes are wide. “I’m going to need a lot of coffee for this place.”

  “What are you in the mood for? Sweet or savory?”

  A busboy places mugs in front of us and quickly fills them with coffee.

  “Pancakes can be savory?” Raquel dumps a small carton of half and half into her mug and gives it a stir before taking a sip. “That’s good.” She leans back against the seat.

  “The Kearny stack has bacon and eggs. They have chicken taco pancakes…” Her nose wrinkles. “Or pigs in a blanket.”

  “What are my sweet options?” She takes another sip of coffee.

  “Funfetti, cinnamon roll, or fruit.” Frowning, I read the two outliers. “I’m not sure what to make of pecan or whole wheat.”

  “Pecan is a rich nut. I’ll have cinnamon roll.”

  “I’ll have oatmeal.”

  Her coffee cup lowers with a little bang. “You will not!”

  Leaning close, I speak quietly across the table. “If you eat all those cinnamon-roll pancakes, you’ll vomit, and I don’t want you being sick when I want to fuck you again.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “This is a family restaurant, Mr. Fletcher.”

  Sitting back, I give the menu one final sweep. “I’ll help you with your pancakes.”

  Just then the entire restaurant changes. Pink and purple strobes hit the chickens lining the walls, and the lights dim. The animatronic chickens all around us start doing The Chicken Dance in jerky, flappy movements. It’s like we’re caught on some freakish Disney World ride… Small World gone fowl.

  My wide eyes meet Raquel’s, and we both start to laugh. “This is nuts.”

  “You picked it.”

  “I wanted you to have a memorable experience.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  Our server appears, and we place our orders. The chickens finish their dance and a comfortable lull falls between us.

  “Your parents took you to get pancakes in Pigeon Forge when you were little?” She lifts her coffee cup to take a sip. “That must’ve been nice.”

  I know she’s referencing what I told her at my apartment. “My childhood wasn’t all bad.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “How about you? What did you do as a child? Besides play at the free beach.”

  She slides her eyes to the side as if she’s thinking. “Well… there was something.” Then she shakes her head. “I can’t tell you that. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “Spill it, Morgan.”

  She laughs, ducking her head. “Oh, man. It’s just… so silly.”

  I put my coffee down and give her a stern look.

  “Okay! Okay…” She holds up her hands. “My dad would take me to see those wrestling matches. You know, the ones John Cena does? And The Rock? Or did, I guess.”

  I was just about to take a sip of coffee, but I have to pause for this. “You went to Wrestlemania?”

  She ducks, and her cheeks flush. “I did. My dad even called me Rocky. It kind of stuck. Now all my family calls me that.”

  “Rocky wasn’t a wrestler…”

  “Yeah, but I was always trying to fight him.”

  “You boxed with your dad?” This is better than I expected.

  “I didn’t box. I tried to wrestle like those guys. It was really just me jumping on his back and making a lot of noise.”

  I have to sit back and chuckle now. I’m picturing a pint-sized version of the very attractive woman across from me behaving like a member of the World Wrestling Federation.

  “So you’ve always been a fighter?”

  Our server appears, placing a huge stack of pancakes covered with whipped cream and cinnamon and oozing with butter between us. We unroll the paper napkins from around our silverware, and Raquel pours the syrup. A sad little side of oatmeal is quickly forgotten next to the golden mound of sugary goodness between us.

  “What does that mean, Fletcher?” She speaks around a bite of pancake.

  I do the same. “It means you’ve been fighting since you arrived in my office.”

  “I’m sorry.” She pauses, putting her loaded fork on her plate and looking down. Her remorse doesn’t last two seconds before her eyes snap up to mine again. “But seriously, ‘Are you going to a funeral?’ Really?”

  I just shake my head at her poor impersonation of me and grin, taking another bite of the fluffy, doughy dessert passing for a real meal. “Rocky. It’s perfect for you.”

  “Admit it. My suit was very professional.” She takes her bite.

  “When did all black become synonymous with professional?”

  “When New York said it was.”

  “I’m not sure New York said that. I think some lazy business person started the trend.”

  “Business person? Give me a break, you know it was a man.”

  “Not this man. Last thing I need is a bunch of undertakers selling me optimism.”

  Her eyebrows rise, and she nods, giving me a broad smile. “I actually agree with you on this one.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “No, I do! I think you’re right.” She takes another bite, tilting her head to the side. “Your delivery could use some work…”

  “I don’t have time to teach you how to think.”

  “Oh my God.” She sits back abruptly, dropping her fork and laughing as she covers her mouth. “She said you’d say that... Or a version of that.”

  “Who said?”

  “It’s not important.” She wipes her mouth, glancing up to catch my frown. It gets me another, short laugh. “You really should work on your people skills.”

  “So I’ve heard. You ready? I can’t eat any more of this, and I have a place I want to show you.”

  “Sure.” She grabs her phone, and I grab the bill our server left on the edge of the table.

  The lights go down, and the chickens launch into a rousing rendition of “Rocky Top” as we walk to the register by the door. Raquel is close beside me, and our hands brush. Automatically, I catch it, threading our fingers. It started last night on the drive in—I reached out and took her hand as we drove, and she didn’t pull away. It’s silly and very high-school-first-crush, but I like holding her hand. It feels good. It feels right.

  Those words seem to be my mantra for this little escape. I haven’t forgotten reality is waiting for us two days and three hours from here, but I want to put that away for now. I want to enjoy this time and see where it takes us. I want to stop fighting… Only, it seems I’ve found the ultimate fighter for this venture.

  The bill is paid, and we walk out to my car, releasing our hands.

  “What next?” She looks up at me smiling. “Dancing goats?”

  “We’ll save them for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

  I have something special in mind. A place I haven’t seen in years. A place I want to see with her…

  21

  Raquel

  We leave the car at the head of a wooded hiking trail that like everything around here seems to go straight up.

  Looking ahead, my nose scrunches. “I don’t have much practice hiking.”

  “We’ll take the intermediate path. I want to show you something.”

  We’re both in jeans and t-shirts. It’s warmer with the sun out, and the temperature is pleasant. Trees surround the path in no particular order, but we’re able to follow the well-worn route using the small markers along the way. Patton seems so familiar with this area. I can’t tell if he’s taking a slower pace for my benefit.

  “You must’ve come here a lot when you were a kid.” I’m only slightly breathless.

  He pauses and waits for me to catch up. “We came out here… I guess every year for five or six years.”

  I’m right beside him, and he looks down at me with such a possessive look in his eye, my insides tingle. “Why’d you stop? I can’t believe you just got tired of it. It’s so beautiful here.”

  He nods and looks away. “After my mother died, it felt different. For whatever reason, we felt her absence stronger here. We tried coming once without her, but…”

  A knot tightens in my throat, and I try to swallow it away. “I’m so sorry.”

  Dark eyes return to mine. “It was so long ago. It’s funny how her memory still seems so strong here.”

  Stepping closer, I put my arms around his waist. “I feel bad for suggesting we come here.”

  His arms go around me, and he gazes down, deep into my eyes. “I’m not sorry. I mentioned it to you. I brought you here.” He inhales, releasing me and looking around again. “Somehow it isn’t sad now.”

  He starts to walk again, and I follow, thinking about his words, what they could mean. “You know, Native Americans… or I guess Natives? Anyway, they believed the spirits of their ancestors lived in the trees… Maybe your mother’s spirit is here.”