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I press my lips above his heart, smiling into his skin when I feel it thumping. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”
I feel him shrug, “It’s a gift and a curse.”
We sit in charged silence for a while. The air is expectant somehow. He’s got more to say, but I think he’s working out how to say it. I give him time, kissing his chest, running my fingers over the ridges of his stomach, for once in my life just enjoying the moment.
“Close your eyes.” His voice is subdued, deep, husky. “Picture in your mind…Two story white farmhouse. Kelly green shutters on every window, planters below each sill. Wraparound porch, two rocking chairs to the right of the front door. A glass top table between them. Around the side of the house, a hanging bench. Bright, lush greens around the base, dotted with colorful flowers. 500 acres of rich soil growing a dozen different crops. Big red barn behind the house. A horse paddock to the side. Fenced in field for dairy cows. Pigs behind the barn. Chickens on the other side of the house. Completely self-sustained. We make our own doughs, cheeses, yogurts, sour cream; mom grows herbs for eating and a small medicinal garden. In the back of our property, a large bunkhouse for the farm hands, some seasonal, some permanent. Small body of water with a dock and fishing boat. An inground pool, and an outdoor kitchen where we have monthly dinners with everyone on the farm. Near the road, a small shop where we and several of the neighboring farms sell our wares.”
I swallow hard, the image he’s painted crystal clear and so inviting. “Sounds beautiful. Warm. Home.”
He whispers, “Can it be your home?” and my heart skips a beat or two at the implication.
“What?” He can’t possibly mean what I think he means.
“You see it in your mind?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you see yourself rocking on the porch, jumping into the pool, riding a horse in the evening, canning food?”
This sweet, tender-hearted dreamer has flayed himself open for me, I can do the same for him. “If you’re next to me, I think I can picture myself doing just about anything.”
He shifts again, running his hand through my hair and pulling my head back so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “How about signing a life-changing contract?”
I try to shake my head, but his grip is too tight. “What? What do you mean?”
He lays it all out for me. Tells me about Abbott’s true intention for agreeing to coach’s meeting, coach’s gross overstep, the job offers, and the chance to grow a better tomorrow. I lay in his arms, stunned. It’s a lot to take in. A lot to process.
“We just started dating, Crue, how does he know about me? Us?”
Crue laughs, a free and happy sound. “I’m not surprised at all. Andres Abbott is a man who knows his shit.”
“I need to have my dad look it over.” The synapses of my brain start firing one after another, my brain filled with everything we need to do. “We need to make a pros and cons list. And spreadsheets, so many spreadsheets.”
“Phia?” He stops my downward spiral by running his nose along mine, his big, strong, hard body hovering above me. Thick muscular arms bracketing my head. His eyes, so much hope and excitement and love. “Dream with me.”
Shifting slightly, I open my legs around his waist, swirling my hips to encourage him to slide inside. I reach under my pillow and grab the foil packet I stashed there earlier in the week. Sue me, I was hoping he’d fuck my brains out sooner rather than later. “Make love to me, then we’ll turn those dreams into a reality.”
On his knees, my legs draped over his hips, Crue rolls the condom down his length quickly. Then he’s hovering above me again, his left hand stroking the soft skin of my cheek, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, looking, searching for something.
“I love you.” Truer words have never been spoken. I love him with everything I have.
Somehow, his expression softens even more, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, just like mine. “God, Phia, I love you. So fucking much.”
“Then make love to me.”
“Every day.”
“Eh. Not every day. A few days a month I’ll be hanging with Aunt Flo. And we have hectic schedules, so we might not be able to commit to—” He shuts me up with his mouth as he slides inside my pussy until our bodies are flush. He feels as good as I knew he would, better even. He’s thick and long and fills me just right.
He runs his hands along my breasts, my sides, cups my ass and tilts my pelvis to meet him thrust for thrust. His weight is exquisite torture, feeling all that power contained in hismuscular frame just waiting to be unleashed. I saw a glimpse of it earlier when he fucked my mouth and I’m excited to experience it again, but right now…this soft and steady pace is exactly what we both need.
It’s a different kind of release that builds slowly, my blood on a simmer as he fills me over and over again. Rocking his hips, grinding deeper and deeper until he’s all I can feel, touch, smell. I sink my teeth into his solid shoulder and let the tide of ecstasy wash over me. His breath hitches in my ear, his body tenses, and then he cums with a groan. Knees planted on the bed, he lays his head between my breasts to catch his breath. My hands caress the dewy skin of his shoulder blades, carding through his damp hair.
My tongue feels too big for my mouth when he lifts his head, and I see the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I love you.”
I grin through tears of my own. “I love you.” He meets me for a tender kiss. “Hey, quick question,” I start when he withdraws, snapping the condom, “how strong would you say the scent of manure is on the farm?”
Prib 10.
