Chapter Sixteen - Westin

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WESTIN

My head is empty. The world shakes on its axis.

I pull from her and flip her body. She's muddy, and I drag my fingers over her stomach, drawing patterns in the dirt on her skin. My handprint is on her breast. She cries out softly, her hazy eyes on the blue sky as I push back inside.

Her hips are loose, her legs spread.

She wants it.

And God, I want it too.

I grip her upper thigh, and something in her awakens. Her body tenses and her eyes flash. Her hand comes up, and her fingers dig into the back of my neck.

Her hips rise to meet mine, and they collide in a shower of sparks. We're both panting, rutting our bodies together in the dirt, streaked with mud, desperate to be so close that we can never untangle ourselves.

I slam into the soft resistance of her cervix. I'm too big for her, but I don't care. My hips stay there, grinding. My sweat drips onto her face, but she doesn't brush it away. Her body shakes, and I grind harder .

Then, she comes, crying out loud enough that it scares the birds from the trees above us in a dark flurry. Her cunt tightens, working me from base to tip. Pleasure comes in a rush, and I can't stop it. My head is empty, my dick doing all the talking.

Her eyes widen.

My hips rut harder, fucking, chasing my orgasm. She's soaked, she's willing, but more than that, she's mine.

Now seems like a good time to finally consummate that statement.

The last thrust is the sweetest. It tastes like lightning in my teeth and heaven in my groin. Our bodies meet, and I can't bite back my groan as I'm washed away.

She moans, and I come hard, emptying everything I have into her pussy.

No condom in sight.

We both go still. Breathless, I disengage my hips and fall onto my back, pulling her muddy body into mine. She shakes like a leaf. I run my hand over her back, and the mud that's starting to dry there crumbles.

I kiss her forehead.

"Diane," I whisper.

She pushes herself onto her elbow. Her dark eyes are soft. Her lower lip is a little bloody—she must have bit it at some point. I bend and kiss her, tasting metal.

"Let's wash up," I say.

Before she can protest, I get to my feet and strip my dirty clothes. She lets me pick her up and carry her back into the lukewarm water, and she melts into my arms while I wash her clean.

"You're coming home with me, Diane," I say quietly. She's not going back to that house where David can put his hands on her again.

I turn her around, gathering her hair. It's tangled with mud and brambles. Gently, I start working the little sticks and leaves from it.

"You hear me?"

She nods, releasing a slow sigh. "I hear you."

"I want you to go get your things and meet me on the hill tonight," I say .

She glances back, eyes huge. "You want that?"

I pull her back against me. Her soft ass nestles against my groin beneath the water, and her head falls back into my chest.

"I think I meant to take you home for good that first time we met," I say, meaning every word.

She inhales sharply and holds it. Then, she whirls, eyes narrowed.

"Do you mean that, Westin Quinn?" she demands.

"I swear it."

I've been unsure of a lot in my life, but I'm dead sure Diane Carter is mine. And if I'm so sure, what's the point in waiting?

"I mean to marry you," I say.

She's shocked, her eyes roving over me as she tries to gather herself. Then, her shoulders straighten.

"Okay, fine."

"Good," I say. "You'll be my wife. I'll take you to the courthouse, and it won't matter if I wear a condom or not. You can have as many babies as you want."

Her dark eyes narrow. She's thinking so hard, she's chewing open the scab on her lip. I take her chin in my hands and kiss her forehead.

"You're my business now," I say.

"Fine," she whispers again.

What's holding her back? There's something in her eyes that bothers me. She's not good at being vulnerable, and I can tell there's something going on that she's not sharing. It's the reason she keeps pushing me away.

"What is it?" I press.

She shakes her head. "Do you love me enough that you can handle baggage?"

I nod. "I can handle bullshit, Diane. That doesn't scare me."

"Okay, I'm worried we might lose the farm if I go with you," she blurts out.

"Why?"

"Because they're building a highway west of Carter Farms," she says, her voice catching. "The city councilman, Corbin Buchanan, is trying to run a big access road right through our farm, right where my parents and Nana are buried. He's a cousin to the Garrisons, so David thinks if I get in good with them, they'll be willing to stop him."

I turn this over in my head. I knew about the highway west of Carter Farms, but I didn't know about the access road. That land has been in the Carter family for decades. I know Diane will do anything to keep it preserved.

I get it. Both Sovereign and I put our blood, sweat, and tears into our ranch. The land means everything to us.

"Truthfully, Diane, I don't have the kind of cash to buy property. All my shit is tied up in property and investments. Let me talk to Sovereign," I say. "He might be able to help sway the councilman."

She shakes her head. "I know the Garrison-Sovereign feud."

Everyone does. It's well known that the Garrison patriarch, now dead, attacked Sovereign's mother a long time ago. They know his parents were evicted from Garrison land afterwards. But only some people know that Sovereign had a fiancée a long time ago. She died in a car accident with Clint Garrison driving. It's a long, sordid history that has resulted in years of tension between the two ranches.

A cousin to the Garrisons is no friend of ours. If anything, Sovereign Mountain involvement might make the situation worse.

I take her face in my hands. A vein flutters in her throat.

"Diane," I say firmly. "Go get what you need and meet me on the hill over your house."

She swallows. Her lips part. The tip of her tongue wets them.

"Okay," she whispers.

For a fleeting second, she believes me. I see it in her fragile dark eyes. That's all I need—just to get her to believe for one second that I can take care of this, that I can take care of her. I bend down and kiss her mouth.

"Go back, get the things you need, and meet me at the hill overlooking your house," I say, keeping my voice firm and controlled.

"Okay," she whispers again.

She made a choice, but it's delicate. She's not used to trusting anyone. Truthfully, she's not used to trusting men, and that's going to be a struggle for me to overcome. The trust was scared out of her before we even met.

If she'll just let me, I'll do anything to build it back.