Chapter Twenty-Three - Westin

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

WESTIN

Someday, I'll tell this story and explain myself. I'll say she wasn't really his wife. They won't really believe me. Who does when the details are this strange? I'll say I was drunk in love. They'll look at us and say it worked out in the end anyway. At some point, I'll stop trying to justify my sins to my great-grandchildren.

Life doesn't exist in black and white.

Maybe this is adultery.

Maybe it isn't.

God as my witness, I don't know. I'm not the man I hoped I was, not even close, but I think unfortunately I might be the man my father raised.

Tonight, I don't care.

Desire is so much stronger than anything else. In my book, Thomas gave her permission. If he didn't want her fucking around, he should have held himself to the same standard.

It's not cheating.

My hands shake. I sat on that hill with her just out of my reach for weeks. I beat myself up. I felt like less of a man for not going after her, and I know now that, whatever it takes, she'll be mine.

Thomas is temporary, a dead man walking .

I'll be the father of her children.

She gasps as I sink over her body, mouth dragging up her throat. Blinded with desire, I shove my zipper down. She cries out when my teeth graze where her neck meets her shoulder.

I waited. I watched. I wanted.

Her pupils blow as I push inside her, and my vision flashes. My lower spine arches as I drive deeper, letting her hot pussy pull me in until our bodies are tangled together on the grass.

Now she's mine.

Her skin tastes just as I remember it: soft, sweet. She's sunshine in human form, like lemons and whiskey and sugar, and I eat her alive with my body, thrusting hard, nothing on my brain.

We spiral together. Desire rolls in waves with my body, crashing into us, taking our breath away.

I roll to my back, holding her hips to straddle me. All hesitancy has faded. Her chin rises and her lips part. Her lids flutter and her eyes roll back as a moan falls from her lips.

It's good—so good, it doesn't feel real.

Her hair falls down her back, rippling as her body rises and falls. I'm buried deep, and she takes me. I wonder if it hurts, but if it does, she loves it. Our bodies are soaked where they meet. She's wetter than she has ever been.

My fingers dig into her hips, making sure she keeps every inch inside as she rides me.

Her palm falls flat on my chest. Her spine arches and her eyes widen.

Her pussy tightens, pulses, and then she comes undone, clenching hard around me. She freezes for a breath before her body starts shaking. I slam her down onto my cock, taking her as she wrings every wave of pleasure out.

"Fuck, you need this," I gasp.

"No," she whimpers, eyes meeting mine, big and brown beneath those heavy lids. "I needed you. "

My neck prickles. I flip her again and lift her leg up, slinging it over my elbow. Her eyes roll back as I start pounding as deep as I can get.

But it's not enough.

It's never enough.

Nothing can express what I felt being so close but so far. I can fuck her body for hours, but I really want to fuck her soul. Somehow, that still feels out of reach. My eyes fall, and I see it: a silver wedding band on her finger.

I don't even know what I feel. Anger? Disgust?

Murderous rage.

Without thinking, I pull it from her finger and toss it to where my belt lies. Her naked hand curls, but I grip her wrist and pin it over her head. My hips work, pounding her into the ground.

Mine. My woman.

She drags her nails up my back. I fuck her pussy, my mouth on her throat. I want to eat her alive, consume her until we're so deeply entangled, I can feel her breath in my lungs.

But I can't leave a mark on her body.

I roll onto my back again, taking her with me. She rides me hard, her tits bouncing. Her eyes are glassy as she chases another orgasm. Inner muscles clamp around my cock, growing tighter. The grass around us is beaten down. It'll be obvious to anyone who comes across this patch of land what happened here.

"Good girl," I pant. "Make yourself come on my cock, darling."

"Oh God," she breathes. "Westin."

My hips meet hers, thrusting up into her body.

"Go on, come for me," I urge. "Let it out."

Her hands fly off my chest, fists tight, as pleasure hits her. I grip her wrists to hold her steady and let her lean back as it rolls through her body. I pull her in, propping myself up on the heel of my hand. My arm wraps around her, and I hold her close. She shakes, coming hard in my arms.

I'm on the edge. My brain is blank.

I've never seen her so pretty or so desperate .

She whimpers. I flip her onto her belly, lifting her by the hip. Her cunt is soft and wet, and I slide in easily. My eyes close, just for a breath.

God, I've come home.

Our bodies go still. My mouth brushes the back of her neck.

"Westin," she whispers.

My name coming from her lips is heaven. I tilt her head back and kiss her mouth hard, giving her my tongue. When we break apart, her eyes are big and soft, hazy like the mist settling over the mountains. She's at peace in this brief second.

My hips pick up again. My kisses are messy and chaotic on the nape of her neck and upper spine, imprinting it with all those lonely nights.

They say more than I can with my words.

I feel her glow, her bright heart. I taste her sunshine. Only this time, she's tinged with grief. Her kisses used to taste like innocence.

My heart hurts, but my cock takes over. Desire moves in a rush down my spine. My hips stutter. I'm deep in her, moving in short strokes, unwilling to pull out any further than necessary.

My mouth is by her ear. She's trembling.

"Don't pull out," she moans deliriously. "Come inside me. Please."

All it takes is those words, and I'm tumbling over the edge. Pleasure rips through me, and I jerk my hips back and spill myself over the back of her thigh. My forehead presses into her upper spine. My hips work until I'm done, leaving her drenched in my cum.

"God, girl, you trying to get knocked up?" I say, giving her a sharp slap across the ass.

She moans, wriggling her hips.

"I'm not playing Russian Roulette with my dick while you're married to another man," I say, falling to my back beside her.

She rolls to her side, and I do the same. We're inches apart. I smell the lust between her thighs, mixed with my cum. She reaches up and touches my face, running her finger down my jaw, laying it against my lips.

"I forgot what it's like," she whispers. "I don't want to go back. "

"I can't let you go home," I say, voice hard.

Her eyes widen. "You don't have a choice."

I take a beat because she's so fragile, I'm afraid to push back.

"Did you write his name in your family's book?" I ask.

She smiles sadly. "No."

I've had that in the back of my mind for weeks. Her name with his is an abomination.

"Good," I say. "You come home with me today."

She takes a shuddering breath and releases it. I feel her pain on it, sharp like a knife. I already know what she'll say.

"If you have the money to buy this land out from under my brother and the influence to stop them paving it, I'll go home with you tonight, Mr. Westin River Quinn," she says, voice shaking.

I knew what her answer would be—I don't have either of those things, at least not yet. But I'm confident I can get both the land and figure out some way to stop the road. I just don't have a solid plan, and I know she needs that.

I get that, I do.

"I'll figure it out," I say. "I swear."

She offers me a sad smile. I brush her hair back and kiss her mouth because I can't stop. I can't get enough of tasting and touching this woman.

"I like the way you call me Westin River Quinn," I say. "What's your middle name?"

She shakes her head. "Oh no, I'm not telling you that."

I flip her over, laying halfway on top. The grass is warm underneath, and everything smells so good. I prop my chin on her pelvis, gazing up at her like she hung the moon and stars.

"Tell me," I beg.

She bites her lip. "Okay, but don't tell anyone."

"Cross my heart, darling."

"Okay, it's Lemon. It's a family name."

I can't stop smiling, it's too perfect. "I like that. Lemon Carter and River Quinn. Feels like we could be two different people who don't have to deal with all this bullshit. "

"Hmm," she says. "I feel like it doesn't fit with Diane, but it's pretty all on its own."

I nod, but all I can think about is how I've been dying for this for so long. She doesn't know and I probably won't tell her how many nights I almost walked across the field and pulled her out of that house.

But everything is so complicated. I promised Sovereign revenge, and he has waited so long for it. The Garrisons' blood belongs to him.

And then, there's the shame of what I've done.

I close my eyes.

I can't just take her home. If she loses her land because of me, she'll never forgive me. I learned pretty quickly Diane isn't the type to give everything up for love. I don't blame her; I'd do anything to save Sovereign Mountain.

I wish I could tell her I can pull a solution out of thin air, but I can't. Instead, I keep my mouth shut and kiss her again. She smiles, and her hand slides through my hair, stroking it with her delicate touch. Her hands are calloused, and I hate that. She shouldn't have to work so hard.

We lay there, hazy. After a while, she stirs and pushes herself upright.

"Do you feel like…I cheated?" she whispers.

I sit up, reaching for my belt. "Do you feel like Thomas cheats when he sleeps around?"

She works her lip then shakes her head.

"That's your answer, darling," I say. "As far as your conscience is concerned, you did nothing wrong. And if you're worried about it, tell that pretty head it wasn't your fault. You were just walking in the field, all alone, and I took advantage of you."

Her lips part. A slow flush creeps over her face.

"You like that," I say.

She shakes her head hard. "No, I don't."

"Do you fantasize about me doing that to you? Being rough?" I say.

Her inhale is sharp. "Sometimes. I've never been scared of you. I think you make me feel safe. "

I'm so fucking grateful I make her feel safe enough that she wants me to take control of her body. Now, I just need to find a way to make her trust me with everything else. She's quiet as I kiss down her shoulder.

"I know trust is hard, Diane," I say. "I know you don't believe me, but I'm going to give you everything."

Billie starts growling impatiently at the bottom of the hill, so I pull back from Diane and finish buttoning my shirt. She puts the cheap ring back on her finger, and I look away because I want to kill someone.

I walk her to my truck and drive her a few miles out from Garrison Farms. When I pull off the road to let her out, she wipes her face with her sleeve.

"Goodbye," she says. "This was probably a bad idea."

"I don't regret it," I say.

I take her wrist, and she turns, fixing those big, dark eyes on me. "Swear to God, I will get you out of this. I don't care what the paperwork says. You'll be my wife."

She smiles sadly. "I'm not so sure. But I'm safe for now."

I kiss her mouth, and she tastes like salt. "I'll be back for you."

She doesn't want me to break her heart. I know it's so delicate and bruised already. She slips from the truck, taking her dog. I wait until they're just over the hill, and I park in the woods. Then, I follow her by foot to make sure she gets up the driveway and into the house safely.

It'll take time, patience, and a loaded pistol, but I'm going to fix that heart.