We left in the night. That night. And moved on.
Again.
I stared down at the ground. "But...he didn't keep his promise. And then my family kind of...fell apart." I squeezed my eyes shut to catch the angry tears. "Having these kind of ties to a place...shit..." my ability to form sentences suddenly failed me...
And then just as suddenly, he was right there. I nearly jumped out of my skin when his hand brushed my shoulder, but he didn't shy away. His fingers trailed down my arm, just letting me know he was there. The brush of his fingertips left trails of electricity in their wake, my skin seared by the heat of him. I was certain he had scarred me forever with his touch. My breath caught in my throat and I looked up at him.
His face was right there, the strong angle of the sun carving his beautiful profile into a stunning mélange of highlights and shadows. He was so beautiful...but that was the wrong word for something so ruggedly handsome too. His features looked carved by the hand of a master sculptor who poured all of their genius into each stroke of the chisel. Without meaning too, I found myself moving closer, intent on studying the structure of his face. My artist's eye wanted to divide him into sections of light and color, the better to paint him with my mind.
But the hunger in his eyes insisted I do nothing of the sort.
"I'm here," he said, simply.
"I know," I replied.
The magic of this place was evident all around us. The wind died down, allowing our words to hang in the air, all the promise of what was left unsaid ringing in our ears. He was there, it was a simple statement. It was up to me what I wanted to do with his presence.
My hands made the decision for me.
I reached out and pressed my palms against his rock hard chest. First one hand, then the other. I was half holding him back, half eagerly seeking.
His breath caught slightly when I touched him, but he didn't move. I was afraid to look back up and see the hunger in his face, so I concentrated on my own hands as they slid downward, sliding along the rippling landscape of his torso. The fabric of his T-shirt bunched a little as I stroked back upward, lifting to reveal a small sliver of tanned skin above his Wranglers.
Seeing that sliver made my heart skip and my stomach splash into my core. His abs contracted as I brushed my finger under his shirt. It was like my hands belonged to someone else, moving without input from my brain. They were on a mission to touch as much of his skin as that little sliver of lifted hem would allow. And I would have gone on forever like that, in a mindless stupor, drugged by his nearness and the sighing of the wind.
Until I realized that the ragged noise I was hearing had nothing to do with the wind. It was coming from deep within Tanner.
"Monique," he growled, catching my wayward hands with his. He hesitated, "Fucking hell."
I looked up at him, startled by his coarse words.
And then his lips covered mine.
Chapter Twelve
Tanner
She kissed me back. I have that much to hold on to, even if she changed her damn mind again. She fucking kissed me back. Hard.
She flung her arms around my neck and pulled me to her, pressing her long body into a sinuous curve against mine. Her lips were just as soft as I had hoped, made for kissing and sucking and biting.
I was just finding my stride, delving deeper with my tongue, on a quest to make her moan those little soft moans again, when she pulled roughly away.
"Tanner," she panted.
My hands were still molded into the shape of her ass. "What?" I demanded. I wanted that luscious rear under my fingers again.
"We can't."
"And why the fuck not?" I growled. I wanted her. Bad. My tongue stumbled and I growled again. Desire was making me bad with words.
She narrowed her eyes. "Strictly business, remember?"
"What?!" I exploded. This woman was going to give me whiplash. "You were kissing me just as hard as I kissed you. Don't be pretendin' it didn't happen that way."
"I'm not pretendin'," she snapped in a vicious imitation of my drawl. "I'm remindin'. We went over this already." Her voice took on this placating, consoling tone that made me want to fight something. "This whole...thing? We can't do this. You leave on tour in two weeks."
"Two weeks and five days," I reminded her.
Her eyebrows slammed together. "And I've got a job, and a life I have to get back to. We're being stupid, right now. This isn't anything."
My legs were moving before my mind was. I had her by the hair, wrapping her ponytail in my fist and forcing her to look up at me. She gasped, showing that same vulnerability that had driven me to kiss her in the first place. "Dammit," I swore and kissed her again.
This time it was like a battle for dominance. Our tongues met and sparred. Her hands battered and clutched at my chest, fighting me and pulling me closer as I drove her backwards into a tree. When I had her pinned against me, I pulled back and looked into her wild, furious eyes. "This isn't anything, huh?" I panted. My cock was as hard as a diamond and her eyes widened when she felt me press it against her. "Absolutely nothing, to you?"
For a moment, she hesitated. I brushed her lips with mine, softly, gently. I would take as much time with this woman as humanly possible. I would break down all her hesitation until she was nothing but a quivering mass of pleasure and enjoy every second of it. The thought of her body shivering under mine, watching the flush rise underneath her ebony cheeks....fuck, I would take forever if need be.
Then she pressed her lips tightly together. "We can't, Tanner."
I took a step back, unable to contain my own feelings and unwilling to look at her. The sound of her camera capturing the moment only made things worse.
Chapter Thirteen
Monique
The whole, silent, ride back to the main house, I wrestled with myself. This was the right thing, right? I was doing the right thing. Never mind that my body was screaming at me to press against him again, his chest crushing into my breasts, my skin alive under his touch. My lips were begging to kiss him again, rough and hot then slow and sweet. He seemed like the kind of guy who would kiss me for hours, just the way I liked it. Was I fucking crazy here?
In desperation, I took out my camera again. Behind the lens, I was safe. I let the distance between us grow. Clouds were sweeping in from the west, and high, boiling thunderheads began to fill the sky. I caught a shot of Tanner Brock, disappearing into the horizon on horseback, his back straight and defiant, and knew that was the picture I had come here to take.
But the cost to get it in the first place...was it worth it?
When the car pulled up to get me, I waited for him to say goodbye. I stood in his drive and stared at the huge, rambling house that now was forever entwined with his kisses in my brain. The sun had dipped below the black clouds on the horizon and the wind was picking up.
His silhouette moved past the kitchen window. I couldn't tell if he was watching me, until he raised his hand in silent farewell. Then walked away.
"Dammit," I whispered into the wind.
I slid into the back seat of the car and slumped down as low as I felt. I clutched my upper a
rms tightly, feeling the places where his touch still seared me. Never in my life had I felt such an intense, and instant desire for a man. It would figure he would be someone I could never have.
As if I didn't feel worse enough, the rain began to batter the roof of the car the minute we passed the sign heralding our entrance into Holcum. I recognized the road of course, and slumped even lower in my seat. But there was still no way to avoid seeing it.
The house was empty. No one lived there, that was clear from the over grown grass. Someone had systematically broken all of the windows...bored teenagers most likely. It looked like it had been standing there, unloved and uncared for, since the night we left.