Long Road Home (The Barker Triplets 4)

She caught him looking—the devil—and spread her legs wider so there was more to see. He was hard as a rock, sweating like a son of a bitch. When she reached for his jeans and pulled them off, he had to hold himself still, because his control was slipping. If he had his way, he’d have her on her stomach and be riding her from behind.

“Take off your boxers,” she commanded, moving forward, eyes on his straining cock.

“Yes, ma’am,” Shane replied, settling back when she reached for him. She looked up just then, a wicked grin on her face, and then licked her lips before slowly taking all of him deep inside the velvet wetness of her mouth.

“Jesus,” he groaned, thrusting his hips a bit, because he was that weak. “You feel so damn good.”

He angled his head so he could watch as she slowly worked him over. Her mouth, her tongue and lips were like heaven, and it didn’t take long for her to bring him to the edge. When he was nearly there, she withdrew, her hands on her breasts, and then they slid lower to where she was so wet between her legs.

She leaned over the sofa, and he got behind her in an instant, hands on her hips. He lifted her to meet his thrust and rocked into her heat, head back as his mind and body exploded with pleasure.

This was where he belonged. This was what a true connection felt like.

He increased his rhythm, and she matched him, their bodies slick with sweat, the air full of sex and love and Shane and Bo

bbi.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, breaths ragged as he tried to hold on as long as he could. When he came, it was hard and fast, and she shuddered beneath him, a muffled scream erupting with his own.

They stayed like that for a long time, and when he finally fell back with Bobbi on top of him, he nestled her under his chin.

I have everything I ever wanted, he thought. And he was never losing it again. He dropped a kiss to the side of her neck. “We should go,” he murmured.

They got dressed and headed for the parking area, though he took a quick detour to stop in and say hello to several of the young students up at the plantation house. He posed for a few pictures and made a point of talking to each of them before he took Bobbi by the hand and guided her out to the parking lot.

Shane did up the strap on Bobbi’s helmet and dropped a kiss to her nose before he climbed onto his bike and waited for Bobbi to take her spot behind him. He nodded and waved at Bernadette and Marisol, two interesting women he’d have loved to spend more time with. But he’d be back someday with Bobbi.

Shit, and two kids.

With a grin, he slowly accelerated, and they headed back toward Belle Adair. The sun was high, the wind felt amazing, and Shane was as content as he’d ever been. He decided he needed to make one last stop before the B&B. He took a right in the fork instead of a left, and ten minutes later, they coasted into the cemetery.

“It looks like we’ve traveled back in time,” Bobbi Jo said as she took off her helmet and turned in a full circle. The church stood just to the left, and he took her over for a look, but it was the old oak tree that held his interest.

“Come on. I’m hoping to introduce you to someone.”

“In a cemetery?” Bobbi chuckled, then sputtered. “You’re serious.”

Shane nodded. “Every time I visited the place, he’s here.” He told Bobbi about the eccentric old guy and his devotion to his deceased wife. About the way he looked at the world and the wisdom of his words.

“Sounds like he made quite the impression on you.”

“He did.” Shane took Bobbi’s hand and led her through the old cemetery, though his eyes were constantly moving, looking for any sign of Manly. But there was nothing, and, disappointed, he trudged up to the bench by the old oak tree and then strode past it to walk around the thing, thinking there was a spot back there where Manly liked to sit. But there was nothing.

He stood there, looking at the tree, and slipped his arm around Bobbi when she slid up against him. “I was really hoping for you two to meet.”

“Is that where his wife is buried?” Bobbi pointed to the plot beneath the tree and then broke loose from him to have a look. While she made her way up to it, he turned again, hand shading his eyes from the sun as he scanned the entire cemetery. When he came up empty once more, he sighed and headed for Bobbi Jo, who stood near the enclosed plot.

“Are you sure this is his wife?” Bobbi asked when he was a few feet away.

“That’s what he said.” He frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just there’s a woman buried here. Her name is—”

“Annalise.”

“Yes,” Bobbi replied nodding. “But her husband is buried with her.” She turned to the large headstone. “Manfred Duquette.”

Wait. What? Manly?