Authors: Jenna Bayley-Burke
He framed her face between his hands and claimed her lips with a primal passion. They were totally having phone sex once he got back to Paris. That voice could make oil go hard.
With one hand, he reached between them and slid his fingers against her slick folds. She moaned through their kiss when he circled her clit with his thumb and slipped two fingers inside her, curling them against the roughened pad of her G-spot.
“How do you want it, J’aime?” He broke their kiss long enough to ask.
“I, I don’t know,” she whispered. “I want to kiss you. I want you to come again.”
“I love when you talk sex.” He rolled to the bedside table, his penis slipping from her grasp. He snagged another condom and turned back to her. “We’re having phone sex every day, no excuses.”
He kissed her before she could protest, lifting her leg over his and aligning their hips. He released her lips and kissed her neck as he slid into her, enjoying her soft gasps and whimpers as he began to rock their bodies with a slow, powerful rhythm.
She ran her fingernails against his scalp and moaned. “This is like dancing, only a million times better.”
He laughed and sought her mouth again, kissing her to the same beat that he fucked her, slowly building the fire of another orgasm. This felt different than earlier, the heady fog that had swum around him the first time they’d made love returning. The more he gave, the more she took, as if she couldn’t get enough. He knew the feeling, because it washed over him too.
She moaned and lifted her leg higher, her breath becoming more shallow with each thrust. He’d learned the hot grip of her pussy well enough to know one orgasmic quiver would be the end of him. He shifted his hips to hold her off, but it had the opposite effect. She broke their kiss and arched her back, pressing her hand onto his ass to anchor him to her. He didn’t thrust as she came, just held on and let the muscles of her pussy spasm around him until he came with a thundering shout.
A small voice in his head screamed for him to change the position, to pump into her or pull out, anything to break the spell. But the connection was too intoxicating to give up. He didn’t want to just fuck her, he wanted to love her.
He wanted to make her come and make her come with him. Anywhere. Everywhere.
“We could go to the reptile gardens next.” Jaime stretched her bare legs on the dashboard, her red toenails flashing in the hot sun.
“I would think you’d have had enough of family events after the gold mine this morning.” He took the folder of brochures from her and fingered through them.
“Who is the grumpy grumbler now?” Jaime turned in her seat, facing him as she pulled her long hair into a ponytail and secured it with the purple band she’d had on her wrist since breakfast. He’d been wondering if it was some kind of fashion statement. “I think it’s great that so many kids get to experience history like this. You’re just mad because there was such a line to pan for gold.”
He looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. “You were the one who wanted to pan for gold.”
She reached for the small vial of gold dust around her neck. “Jealous that I had better luck?”
He laughed, wishing their day had been more romantic and less family vacation. He wanted to keep her hot, but so far today only the sun was helping him out in that department.
She snatched a random brochure. “Oh, the presidential wax museum. Let’s get our picture taken with Lincoln.”
“Seriously?” He grabbed the brochure back and stuck it in the folder.
“Why not? This is what you wanted right? To do all the things included in the package?” She took her feet off the dash and slipped them into her embroidered flip-flops.
“I hadn’t planned on following around the primary-school set, no. I’d head to Rushmore right now if Molly and Dave at the hotel hadn’t said a motorcycle rally was visiting it today.”
“You don’t like kids?” She looked at him with complete disgust.
“I don’t like them as much as you do. Everywhere we go, you become a magnet for lost and screaming children.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s the teacher vibe. Kids can tell when they’re safe with someone, and they lock onto that when they’re afraid. So, what’ll it be, mister tour director? Living snakes or dead ones?” She laughed at her own joke.
“None of the above.”
She sat up straighter. “Are we leaving South Dakota?”
He started he car and put it in gear. “Not a chance, tomorrow you can see your dead presidents in stone, today we’re doing something else.”
“Like what?” She fastened her seatbelt and then smiled over at him.
“Careful, J’aime, or I’m going to think you’re enjoying this.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I know I should already be home helping with the wedding, but this is my first vacation, so it’s fun.”
His foot slipped off the brake and the car rolled before he slammed on the brake and stuck it in neutral. “What do you mean, your first vacation?”
“Okay, you know, I’m tired of you thinking everything about me is freakish. My dad lives in Mexico, my mom lives in Oregon, every school holiday has been split between them.”
“But you went on vacations with them.” She had to have, because the alternative was as freakish as she thought.
“I went to Disneyland once, but the first part of the week was babysitting one of my younger brothers from my dad, and the second part of the week was watching Allison so my mom and stepdad could take the boys on the rides.” She smoothed her hands on her tan capris.
“But when you go to Mexico, isn’t that like a holiday?”
“That’s seeing as much family as I can. My dad has eight siblings and I have more cousins than I can possibly see in a week. Besides, when my brothers were younger, he’d arrange for the nanny to take her vacation when I was in town to help with the boys.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
She lifted her shoulder, the pink strap of her bra slipping out from beneath her white tank. “Mexican culture is all about family. Besides, I wanted to spend as much time with my brothers as possible. I was only there a couple months a year and I wanted them to remember me.”
He nodded. “So why didn’t you vacation with your mom’s family? Allison has taken Trent on some trips she’d done as a child. Hawaii, the Puget Sound, even Mexico.”
Jaime bubbled up with laughter. “I took her with me to Mexico one summer and she lasted three days before she demanded to go back. We had fun before she got too high maintenance. I remember my
abuela
saying she was so relieved I wasn’t an American girl like Allison after she kept picking apart her food and constantly taking cold showers from the heat. She had Trent take her to Cabo, which is very Americanized from all the tourism.”
“But she liked the heat in Hawaii?”
Jaime shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. They took family vacations while I was with my dad. Anytime they went anywhere, I had to go to Mexico.”
“Why?”
“Hey, going to Mexico is a good thing. My
abuela
is an amazing cook. And my brothers missed me.” She toyed with the hem of her tank top.
“And you didn’t answer my question.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was a money thing. My dad felt taken advantage of because he was expected to pay for everything for me instead of sharing costs with my mom. But my mom stopped working when she had Ben, so all the money was my stepdad’s, and he didn’t want to have to pay for anything for me. He’s very conservative and thought that since he provided completely for his children, my father should do the same, but my dad is very liberal and found it sexist that my mom wouldn’t provide anything monetary.”
“Um, wow.”
“Welcome to the politics of custody arrangements.” She gave a weak smile. “My stepmother also took issue with the difference in cost for things in Mexico and Oregon, plus they were supporting four boys of their own. It was a jumble, and I tried my best not to ask anyone for anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
She reached for the folder and opened it again, pretending she hadn’t seen it all before. “I’m sorry you asked. But I think it’s the answer to your question about why I’m going to Oregon. I think without the pressure of money, I can have a better relationship with my mom. I know she wanted to help me more, but she wasn’t willing to stand up to my stepfather. It’s kind of embarrassing to know your parents had a dollar value on you since you were three.”
“It shouldn’t have been that way.”
“It isn’t anymore. I pay my own way for everything.” She closed the folder and her shoulders slumped. “Well, I did until I got in this car with you.”
“Thank goodness you got in the car. You deserve a vacation more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He reached out and touched her face, intending to pull her forward for a kiss. But he sensed now was not the time.
“I should be paying my way. I can. I have savings.”
“Which you need to get an apartment and a car once you’re settled in Oregon. Besides, I’m doing things with you I wouldn’t have done alone. I never would’ve gone gold mining.”
“True, I could tell you wanted to leave as soon as you saw the school bus and all the kiddos in matching shirts.”
“I really did, but I’m glad we stayed, even if I didn’t find any gold. And I never would have known that hotel was haunted.”
“That hotel is haunted. Don’t mock.”
He held up a hand. “I was there, you were freezing.”
“Thank you. I’m still a little freaked out a ghost tried to turn me into a Popsicle.”
“I am quite fond of that ghost. It got you into my bed. Where you’ve stayed ever since.” He met her dark gaze, loving the way her eyes smiled even if her mouth didn’t.
“Okay then, let’s go see some snakes.”
He shook his head. “I have a much better idea.”
Chapter Eleven
The warm wind swirled around her, cooling her flushed skin. The sun hovered just above the tree line, promising the day would not swelter on forever. She didn’t know how the animals at the wild-horse sanctuary survived the blistering heat day after day.
“What about that one?” Xavier asked their guide, pointing to a shaggy tan foal in the distance that stood almost completely beneath its mother.
Jaime shielded her eyes with her hand and followed Xavier’s gaze. The foal seemed smaller than others they’d seen, and its black mane and tail appeared to just be growing in. The most remarkable thing was the black zebra stripes circling both of the horses’ legs. Jaime slicked back her hair, glad she’d pulled it into a ponytail.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Helen responded, the smile evident in her voice. The older woman leaned against the faded blue pickup and sighed. “She was quite the surprise, the last foal born this spring. We give most of the mares an injection to keep the population in check, but it’s only as effective as human birth control.”
“But if the horses here at the sanctuary are wild, why change their breeding patterns?” Jaime had been enthralled by the horses since she’d seen the wooden sign announcing the sanctuary. Like stepping back in time, she understood why so many films had borrowed the location as a set for Westerns.
“Whenever the economy tanks, the horse market does the same. We’d love to let the horses breed at will, but if they foal more horses than we can sell as yearlings, we’re left with the expense of caring for them. We don’t have the funds or the space for ever-expanding herds.”
Xavier knelt on the dusty ground, adjusting his camera before firing off a few quick shots. He tilted the camera and examined the shots on the display. “What are the stripes on their legs?”
“Sorraia markings. Spanish conquistadors brought the horses from Portugal to the Americas in the 1500s. The dun coloring and dark dorsal stripe from mane to tail is another distinguishing characteristic. They’re living relics of a time gone by. Not many of them are left.”
“Are they friendly, or should I change lenses?” Xavier turned to face the women, the lowering sun glinting off the sunglasses perched atop his head.
“They’re as used to people as any of the other herds, but if I drive up towards that ridge, they’ll move right towards you.”
Xavier smiled wide, but Jaime’s stomach twisted. “Is that safe?” she asked. “Won’t they stampede him?”
Helen chuckled and adjusted her tan cowboy hat. “They’ll run like the dickens off the ridge, but that will probably be the end to the excitement. They’re very comfortable here, but they don’t like the sound or smell of a truck.”
Jaime’s gaze volleyed between the serene and powerful horses, the pick-up behind her and Xavier alone in the middle. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“It’s brilliant.” Xavier made up the ground between them and reached into his camera bag. “Experiences like these make the most amazing photographs.”
He slung his camera bag over her shoulder, the thick strap wider than her tank top.
“No way am I standing in the middle of running horses.” Her blood raced at the thought. They’d knock her over and trample her to death. Or worse, into a coma where she’d have to listen to how stupid she’d been from her family for months on end.
“You’re getting in the truck, with this.” He handed her a small point-and-shoot camera and gave her a fleeting kiss on the forehead. “You take my picture getting the shot. That way if people don’t believe I took it, I’ll have proof.”