Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 23

Heather

R oarke asking me about moving out of this cabin and staying in Burton permanently should’ve intimidated me.

That wasn’t a question that could come off as butting in. That was a direct suggestion that I stay. That we get attached.

Oh, we are.

I knew, deep in my heart, that I was being weak. One smoldering, hot look from him. One husky rasp of a whisper against my skin. One gentle and teasing caress of his fingers over me.

And I was done for.

His body called to mine. His desire catalyzed me until it sparked and spread and broke out in a wildfire of lust that consumed me.

Sure, it was just sex. It was only a physical thing. Hormones and neurotransmitters all working in a coordinated effort to get me off and feel good with the rush of endorphins that followed an orgasm. That right there was biology. Scientific facts.

But something else, something magical and wicked, precious and just right, was also at play between us.

When we came together like this, nothing felt wrong .

The only things that stood to my attention as faulty were my original thoughts and reservations that had me telling him a month ago that I was done with men. That I would never be interested in him.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

He was mighty, pounding into me over and over again. His thighs smacked against the back of mine as he pummeled my pussy, slamming that big, long dick into me with precision.

It was probably wrong to cave so easily after I put up such a fight, but it felt too damn good to miss an opportunity to experience this with him.

I wasn’t exactly proud of how hard I pushed my ass back to him, needing all the delicious pain of the impact of him driving into me hard and fast, but there was not a chance in hell I’d try to stop him.

So good. So, so fucking good.

I couldn’t form a thought beyond that, locked into greedily enjoying the quick buildup to all this tension. I ached, inside out. My womb squeezed with the deep, instinctive need to come with what I now knew were vaginal climaxes—something David never could achieve. My nipples felt like throbbing pinches of agony as I leaned further over the table. Zings of arousal spiked from me there, and as he thrust into me with such force, I ended up splayed over the table, shoved forward. He walked me forward until I was draped on the wood. My bare breasts rubbed back and forth over the surface with the speed of his drives. Keeping my arms up, flat and outstretched on the tabletop, I gave up trying to grip anything for purchase.

He held me.

He had me.

Roarke was keeping me right where he wanted me—right where I wanted to be. Caught between his hands, I relished the dig of his fingers curling into my hips. He held me there to ensure I’d come hard and fast, blinded by a brutal orgasm.

I’d never know how good it could be.

David never—

Dammit. No.

I didn’t want to think.

I didn’t want to think about my ex.

All I wanted was to feel this glorious fullness of Roarke’s bare dick stroking into me so perfectly.

Still, stuck in the comparison that Roarke was a sex god seemingly made to blow my mind while David had been a greedy asshole to get himself off and not me, I couldn’t stop the bombardment of thoughts about the past I hoped to move on from.

Sex wasn’t a remedy to the abuse and hell I endured. Fucking to distract myself wasn’t a fix. I had to heal myself. I had to care for my mind and appropriately get over all that happened to feel like a whole woman again. I had to be complete, not shattered, if I planned to be with Roarke.

“Roarke, please,” I begged.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous,” he growled, speeding up his hard pumps into my.

My ass would be bruised. My thighs felt raw from the abrasion of his harder, hairier legs pushing into them over and over.

But it wasn’t enough.

Stop thinking.

Roarke is not David.

He’s not David.

“I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” he asked, slowing his thrusts to help me lean against him. Standing together, his dick still in me, I closed my eyes and worried I’d ruined.

Just stop thinking. Stop—

“Heather,” he said as he walked back to the chair. Leaning toward it, he sat at the same time he held me. His dick stayed inside me, and as he sat, settling me on his lap, I moaned at the deeper push. This angle was different, and just so much more.

“Heather,” he whispered again, brushing my hair back from my face. “I can’t know what you want, what you need, unless you tell me.”

It felt like a repeat of the other time, when I’d taunted him that communication wasn’t always verbal, with words. Right now, though, I knew I had to explain.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked as he lowered his hand to rub at my clit.

I let out a long moan of pleasure, falling right back into that deep need to come. The pressure built and built.

“Please don’t. Don’t stop.” I licked my lips, straining to swallow with how dry my throat was. Don’t ever stop. Now that I knew how good and right it could feel with him, with his big cock in me and rendering me so spineless, I never wanted to imagine an end to this.

He gathered my long hair and held it to the side so he could kiss up my neck. Slowly. Licking me until my skin was so wet and warm. Tasting me with little nips too. And all the while, his finger and thumb rubbed and teased my clit.

“I’ve got you, gorgeous.”

Fuck, I loved when he called me that. Such a simple, almost cheesy, but sincere endearment that he meant. Like it came out of his mouth without any censor or forethought at all.

“I’ve got you. And I will give you whatever you need. Whatever you want. You just have to ask, Heather. I can’t read your mind.”

I nodded, grinding my ass slightly so I could rub up and down his dick a little bit while he treated my clit to that perfect pressure.

“If talking about moving is too much, I’ll shut up.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that. “It’s not—”

I wasn’t intimidated by the topic. It was nothing more than my stupid thoughts of my past that I couldn’t shake off.

He wasn’t asking me to do anything for him. He wasn’t expecting anything out of me. I felt like I knew that in my soul.

“I was just tossing ideas out,” he added between kisses.

Are you sure you can’t read my mind? That was precisely what I was trying to convince myself of.

“If I saw something that bothers you,” he said, still misinterpreting that I couldn’t come because of thoughts about what he asked me, “then tell me.”

I shook my head. “Oh, I’ll speak up.” I licked my lips, wondering when I’d be able to open about David. That bad thoughts of him could still plague me—even at the worst moments like when I was trying to move on sexually with him.

“Are we good then?” he asked.

I nodded, leaning over to set my hands on the edge of the table again. “Good,” I replied breathily, riding him.

I rocked back on his dick, using my grip on the table for leverage. Like this, on his lap with my feet set on the high rung of the chair, it was a different angle that had me so close to coming.

No more thoughts of David entered my mind. Nothing remained on my head. It was only bliss, pure, complete ecstasy as I came.

“Oh, oh!” I shouted, glad that no one would hear us.

He was right there with me, unable to stand up to me fucking him like this. His dick jerked. I felt the spasms as I milked him. Hot cum shot up into me, and as I rode the waves of relief and pleasure, I fell forward.

His arms wrapped around me as he caught me, and together, sated and crashing from the rush of coming so hard, we shook and trembled, catching our breath. I stayed on his lap, shivering as my skin broke out in goosebumps from how forcefully that orgasm knocked into me.

Even though I was confined in his strong embrace and his bare dick was up inside me, he wasn’t forcing me to stay. He wasn’t trapping me in place, and knowing that he could be that sweet and patient, I envisioned that this could be my reality. Not a one-off enactment of a fantasy. But my life.

If I wanted to make that leap and move on from the abusive hostage-like relationship I had with David, I could do so with Roarke and feel safer like this. I could do so with the knowledge that he would ground me, not crush me. That he’d let me dictate how I wanted things to pan out, not order me to do as he instructed, or else.

Can I? Can we actually make this work?

I rested against him as he sighed, and I wondered. After talking with Nance about staying in Burton and passing on that job opportunity Janelle mentioned in Wisconsin, making my residence a permanent one was on my mind. To work at the bank. To buy a house. To put down roots.

With Roarke, too?

It seemed like such a huge step, one that we’d need to discuss. We had to have more of a grace period following my departure from David. We had to spend more time getting to know each other—and not just sexually.

I wasn’t sure what we were doing. If we were dating. Just sleeping together? I didn’t know, and I was fine without labeling it.

It was just a miracle that he’d be as lenient and understanding not to push me so far.

We needed to take out time with whatever we were doing, and I knew that had to mean more talking. More sharing. He’d shared a lot already, and with this physical demonstration of how much I could trust him with my body, I wanted to jump onboard and talk—

Shit.

When I came home, I had a conversation planned. I’d rehearsed how I’d break the news to him about his niece and that she was pregnant.

So much for those plans.

As soon as I saw him cooking, I struggled to stay serious.

“Want to clean up?” he asked after kissing my cheek. “I’ll try to salvage dinner.”

I smiled, amused. “Well, there’s deli meat and bread...”

“Deal.”

I got up with his help and headed to the shower, still thinking about Nevaeh and how I’d slacked in informing him about what I discovered. He’d want to know. He’d need to know since she had a habit of relying on him to an extent.

But it’s not my secret to share. That was the nagging little voice of reason that attacked me as I showered.

Nevaeh was secretive—just like me. I didn’t have to know the nineteen-year-old any better to realize she’d be furious with me if I told Roarke about what I saw.

It was purely happenstance that I was in the café when I was. It was a coincidence of fate that I went to the bathroom.

It’s her fault that she left that test out though. If she wanted it to be a secret, then wouldn’t she have taken the time to throw it away? To hide it in her purse? Something?

She was probably overwhelmed and worked up, shocked. She wouldn’t have taken the time to stop and think clearly.

Screw it. I shook my head as I turned off the shower. Secrets never helped anyone. They weren’t good to keep forever. They were, at the base of it, lies. I was sick of holding back truths, especially from Roarke.

I have to tell him. I have to come clean and do what is best.

I, more than anyone else, understood how important privacy was, but in this manner, it wasn’t just Nevaeh’s life that could be impacted. If she was going to keep the baby, she needed prenatal healthcare. Arrangements would need to be made for the baby. If the teenager had shown any indication she could be responsible for her own life, then I wouldn’t interfere.

But she hadn’t instilled me with the thought that she was responsible at all.

“Hey, Roarke?” I said as I got out of the bathroom.

He was in the kitchenette, making sandwiches. “Yeah?”

I grabbed some clothes and took them back toward the bathroom to get dressed. He’d seen it all, but I didn’t want sex to distract me from speaking up about his niece again.

Once I tugged on a t-shirt and sweatpants, I approached him.

“I—”

My phone rang. Biting back a growl of frustration that I was interrupted, I grabbed it from the counter where I’d set it. Now that I’d made up my mind to tell Roarke about his niece, I didn’t want any other distractions.

Seeing that it was Janelle calling with a video call, I sighed and answered. She was my boss. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared as but about letting it go to voicemail, but she was the exception.

“Hey, Janelle,” I answered.

“Heather.” She nodded, not smiling. “I’m so glad I got a hold of you.”

“What’s up?” I grew tense at her tone. Something had to be wrong.

“I’m concerned about the toy drive data. You know, all that charity documentation of monetary donations.”

I nodded. Of course, I knew what she was talking about. “What about it? The due date isn’t until another couple of weeks.”

“Yeah. But the county folks were nagging me to start sending in whatever documents I had. So I went onto the shared doc and forwarded it without even looking at it.”

I held my breath. “And?”

“They said it looks like it’s been compromised.”

Fuck.