Tumble Page 17

  I lick my lips. “You have your work cut out for you, buddy.”

  He peels my panties down my legs and then pins me to the door. He lifts me up. My legs lock around his waist. The door scratches at my back, the wood rough against my skin.

  His cock presses against my opening. I can feel the heat between our bodies and my wetness coating the inside of my thighs. His hands, rough and gritty from the wood he works with all day, free my breasts from my bra so they sit on top of the underwire.

  “Good lord, Neely,” he grumbles.

  He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking it gently between his teeth. The other is rolled between thick fingers. Each sensation is another douse of gasoline on the already flaming inferno in my gut.

  My head falls back, my back arching in order to tilt my pelvis. His cock plays with my opening like a tease.

  “This is great,” I say. “But this is not making me forget Manhattan.” I shove my opening toward him to drive home the point.

  “If Manhattan was that great, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He starts to say something else. But as his lips part, the words don’t come. Instead, a softness washes over the greens of his eyes, and I feel my chest tighten in a way it never has with a man in this position.

  The air between us shifts, an intimacy that would make me ill with someone else, thick as it lingers around our bodies. But I’m not ill. Not with him. Instead, I find myself falling into the sweet, crooked grin he casts my way.

  He lowers his lips slowly, his gaze never breaking mine. He kisses me softly, passionately, with something more than a need for an orgasm. I kiss him back and lose myself in the warmth of him.

  All too soon, he drops me to my feet.

  “What the heck are you doing?” I ask.

  “Condom.” He digs through the pocket of his pants and finds a wrapper. He rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls it over his length, never taking his eyes from mine. “Ready?”

  “I’ve been ready for ten freaking minutes.” I lay my palms on his hard biceps, my fingers digging into his skin.

  He lifts me again. This time, his cock parts my pussy and sits heavily in my opening. “Feel that?”

  My chest heaves. “Yup.”

  “Want more?”

  “Yup—ah!” He splits me open, filling me with his length. The end of his cock hits the wall of my pussy. The pressure is incredible. “You could’ve warned a girl.”

  “A girl that’s run her mouth as much as you should’ve expected it.” He regrips my hips. “I can barely move inside you.”

  “Well, Manhattan . . .”

  He slides out. There’s a moment of relief as he exits me, but it lasts only a moment. He presses back in hard. My back slams against the wood. The contact stings on both sides.

  My head starts to spin.

  His head buried in the crook of my neck, he slides in and out in a steady motion. Our bodies become slick with sweat. The door behind me bites into my skin, but it doesn’t actually hurt. It just adds to the pressure building in my stomach.

  With each movement, he fills me to completion. There’s no performance anxiety like I have with other men—does my hair look right? Is my stomach pouching? I think of nothing other than the pleasure he’s delivering one thrust at a time.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans. Cupping my breasts, he massages the heavy globes. “I just want to get my hands all over you. Touch you everywhere.”

  I suck in a breath. “If you keep rubbing my clit like that, I’m going to come all over you.”

  He chuckles. “I love when you talk like that.”

  “Frankly?” I ask, brushing a lock of sweat-soaked hair off my forehead. “Fine. I’ll be frank. Make me come, Dane.”

  His jaw sets. His hands find my hips again. He looks me dead in the eye as he shoves into me. Over and over again, he finds the sweet spot in the deepest part of my body. My breasts vibrate on my chest, my head knocking against the wood. It’s a bedlam of sensation, a cacophony of noise that builds me up so high there’s only one choice: to fall.

  And fall I do.

  “Dane,” I scream into the night. The world bursts before my eyes as the top of my head threatens to explode. I grip his ass, the muscles flexing under my fingers, as I urge him on.

  He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. Just milks every last ounce of pleasure from my body as only he can. As the colors slow and the final jolts of orgasm roll through my legs, he pushes into me one final time.

  My body tenses around him as his cock swells. He closes his eyes and groans the sweetest, sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

  The muscles in his neck flex as he works out his orgasm. His body trembles against mine. I bury my head in his chest and listen to his heartbeat patter wildly inside.

  By the time he pulls out and lowers me back to my feet, I can barely stand. Keeping my eyes open is a challenge.

  I lean against the wood, letting my eyes close, as he pulls on his pants. Before I know it, he’s lifting me in his arms and carrying me through the barn. My head rests on his shoulder.

  A door creaks open before I’m laid gently on a blanket. I want to ask where I am or what he’s doing, but it’s too soft and I’m too sleepy. Another blanket is placed over my body before I feel Dane curl up against me.

  He kisses me on the top of the head. “Sweet dreams, Neely.”

  “Mm-hmm . . . ,” I say before slipping off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  NEELY

  Should I walk you to the door? I feel like that’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” Dane looks at me from across the truck with a shit-eating grin. “It’s less of a walk of shame if I do that, right?”

  “I’m a mess.” I look down at my clothes. We dusted them off the best we could and picked all the hay we could find from my hair. Still, every time I move, I find more evidence of the night spent in the horse barn, besides the fact that I smell like it. “I don’t think now is the time to start behaving like a gentleman.”

  “Here’s the question—did it make you forget Manhattan?”

  The dull ache between my legs flares. “Yes.”

  He smiles like he’s won a prize.

  “Thanks for last night . . .” I cringe. “Did that sound like I was thanking you for sex?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “No,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “I was just thanking you for spending time with me. Or something.”

  He leans over the console, his eyes shining. “I’d rather like to believe you were thanking me for sex.”

  I press a kiss to his lips in a move that shouldn’t be as thoughtless as it was. “I gotta go. My mom is probably watching out the window and gearing up to play Twenty Questions.”

  “She is.”

  “Huh?”

  He nods over my shoulder. “She is watching. Look.”

  By the time I turn around, the curtains are fluttering closed. “She really was.” I gasp. “I was just being facetious.”

  I grab the door handle but am stopped by Dane’s palm on my forearm. “Neely?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope this doesn’t make things hard between us. I know what we’ve both said about relationships and you leaving and all that, but I’d like to think we’re both adults who can handle this without screwing everything up.”

  He’s too handsome for that. Too sexy. Too kind and considerate and too good of a man to have sex with and walk away. But that’s what I have to do.

  “Of course we are,” I say. “We knew what it was when it happened. Right?”

  “Right.” The words lack the assuredness I hoped to hear. “Better get in there and talk to your mom. Tell her I said hi.”

  “Will do.” I hop out of the truck, and with a final wave, I make my way up the sidewalk. I no more than get inside the house before Mom rounds the corner, acting surprised.

  “Well, good morning to you.”

  “Cut it,” I say. �
��I know you were looking out the window.”

  “I heard a truck pull up. What do you expect?” She leans over and plucks a piece of hay out of my hair. “This is a good sign,” she says, waving it in front of me.

  I laugh. “Will you stop it?” I work my way around her, avoiding eye contact. I learned as a child she has a hard time asking questions if you don’t look at her. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

  “Good, because you smell like a barn.”

  “Fitting.”

  I hear her quick intake of breath behind me but continue looking forward. Once in my room, I find my phone just as it starts to ring.

  “Hello?” I ask, not recognizing the number.

  “Is this Neely Kimber?”

  “It is,” I say, grabbing a set of clean clothes from my suitcase.

  “This is James Snow. I wanted to call and let you know personally that we were highly impressed with your résumé and interview. We’d like to offer you the editorial position, contingent upon a face-to-face interview.”

  I sit on my bed and stare blankly at the wall. “Oh. That’s great,” I say, hoping he takes my tone more enthusiastically than it sounds to me.

  “I’ve sent you an email that goes over our proposal of employment. If you find it acceptable, we’d want you to get in here by the end of the week. You have lots of ideas and so do we. We believe that, together, we can make a great team and have a wonderful impact in our industry.”

  He continues on, rattling off their distribution statistics and plans for expansion. I nod, even though he can’t see me. It’s all I’ve got. My emotions are tied up in a man in a truck heading to pick up a sweet little girl from a sleepover.

  “How does that sound?” James asks.

  “Great,” I say, despite not having heard anything he said. “I’ll take a look at your proposal and get back to you.”

  “Wonderful. I hope this is the start of a successful relationship.”

  “Me too. Talk soon.”

  “Goodbye, Miss Kimber.”

  The phone falls from my hands and lands on the bed. My heart falls, too, but I’m not sure where it lands quite yet.

  DANE

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I pull my truck into my driveway and park next to my dad’s.

  He’s sitting on the porch, reclined back in a chair, drinking a bottle of water I’m sure came from my refrigerator. Inside the house.

  I sigh.

  “Hey,” I say, climbing out of the truck. “What’s happening?”

  “Not much.”

  “Must be pretty bored to be coming by here this early.”

  “Nah. Just thought I’d check in and see how you were doing.”

  I take the steps toward him. He has one leg bent, his ankle resting on his knee. The worrying part is he doesn’t quite look pissed. I’m not sure how to deal with him when he isn’t half-pissed about something.

  With a curious look, I sit in the chair beside him.

  “You smell like shit,” he says.

  “Ah, there you are. I was starting to get worried you were getting soft on me.”

  He looks at me over the top of his glasses. “Where’s Mia? I thought maybe she’d want to take a ride with me over to get a couple new koi.”

  “I gotta pick her up in a few. She’s over at Madison and Keyarah’s. You know the Tiptons.”

  “I saw their granddad in the feedstore the other day. I didn’t realize that’s who they belong to. They’re good people.”

  “I told you that.” I sigh. “If you want to pick her up, I can call over and let their mom know.”

  Please say yes and go.

  He takes a little tube from his pocket. The toothpicks inside rattle as he shakes it until one is free in his palm. Studying me intently, he squeezes a little wooden stick between his lips and works it around.

  “Can you just tell me why you’re really here so I can go get a shower?” I ask. “Not that seeing you first thing isn’t a fine way to start the day. I just have things I need to do.”

  “I’m worried about you, Dane.”

  “Here we go.” I groan.

  His foot drops to the floor with a thud. He sits upright and takes the toothpick from his mouth. “I was watching you with Neely the other night, and I’ve about worried myself sick you’re gonna let her go again.”

  “That’s not your business, is it?” I chew on the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything more. Everything inside me tells me to rip his ass and ask him where he gets off giving anyone relationship advice when he let my mother get into a drunken rage and whack me and Matt with a belt a few times a week.

  “If it were just you? No. I don’t give a damn who you hole up with if it’s just you. But you have a little girl who needs a mama and—”

  “Hold your horses, Pops.”

  “I’m not holding anything except you by the scruff if you don’t start listening to me, kid.” He shakes his head. “I’m not taking anything away from you by saying that. You’re a hell of a father, Dane. Better than I was with you and Matt. But Mia deserves to have a mother, and as much as I like Haley, she doesn’t fit those shoes.”

  He has a point. He knows he does, and he knows I know he does. That’s why he doesn’t flinch when I start to stand.

  “Mia deserves a good life. Whether that’s with a mother or it’s not. But I’m not about to ask some woman, let alone Neely, to step into that role.”

  “Why not Neely?” he asks.

  “Because she doesn’t want it,” I say through gritted teeth. “She has a life somewhere else. She’s happy there. She’s made it crystal clear she’s not staying here for her mother. For me. And definitely not to take care of a kid that’s not hers.” I head toward the door but stop before I push it open. “Who would I be to even ask her to do that? It’s Neely, Dad.”

  With the bliss of last night replaced with a somber illustration of the future, I head inside and go straight for the shower.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  NEELY

  Let’s take the routine from the top,” Aerial says over the chatter. “Places, please.”

  I wait for the cue. Mia’s team takes their places, and Aerial gives me a thumbs-up. I hit “Play.”

  The music comes on, an old song from the fifties that has the girls performing a little dance. They’re adorable as they swing their arms and booties around the gym floor. Out of nowhere, a boom thunders from the speakers, and the girls all fall to the floor.

  “Five, six, seven, eight.” Aerial counts as the music changes to something more mainstream.

  The girls get into new positions as the tumbling passes start. Mia darts across the front of the mat, connecting three back handsprings together. She pops a little pose before jogging to the back. They perform a few stunts and another dance and end it with an epic set of tumbling passes before the final notes are hit.

  “That’s amazing!” I tell them, coming onto the mat. The girls run to me, their eyes as big as saucers.

  “Do you really think so, Miss Neely?” they ask in different variations.

  “I do. Just remember to smile and sell it to the crowd, and you got this.”

  Mia falls into my side, wrapping her arms around my waist. “You’re the best, Neely.”

  “Me?” I ask, laughing. “You were the rock stars out there.”

  She grins up at me. “You’re still the best.”

  My heart overflows with feelings for this child. Is it fondness? Do I adore her? Probably both. But the way my insides swell up when I look at her little face seems more than that.

  “Practice is over,” Aerial says. “You girls did super tonight. Make sure you grab a flyer off the table in the locker room and take it home to your mothers.”

  “Is it Manicure Day?” Keyarah asks, bouncing on her toes.

  “It is,” Aerial agrees.

  The room erupts in a wild cheer as they race to the locker room. I notice Mia is the last one instead of being in the middle of Keyarah
and Madison.

  “What’s Manicure Day?” I ask Aerial as Mia disappears into the locker room.

  “It’s a tradition started right after you left.” She bends over and picks up a few wrist wraps from the mats. “The mothers get together with their daughters and do a mani-pedi day before the Summer Show. Remember how you used to get together and make your hair bows?”

  “That was my favorite day. How tying off the fabric around the elastics was fun I have no idea, but I loved it. Every year, I loved it.”

  “We started buying the bows online, so Manicure Day took its place.” She shrugs. “New generation, new traditions. Although if you ask me, the hair bows were more about team building. I think the manis are really for the moms.”

  The girls file out of the locker area. Mia is, once again, last. In her hand is a red sheet of paper she shoves into her bag on her way out the door.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Aerial,” I call out. Jogging across the gym, I meet up with my girl. “Hey, you. You did great today.”

  She doesn’t look up. “Thanks.” She presses on the doors and doesn’t hold them open for me like she usually does.

  I step into the sun and see Dane walking toward us. His smile falters as he takes in Mia’s demeanor. “Hey, rascal. How was practice?”

  “Good.” She stops in front of her dad.

  “Everything all right?” he asks.

  “Yup.” She takes her dad’s hand and then looks at me. “Can we go get a hamburger at Mucker’s?”

  Dane and I swap glances. I wish we could click over into the playful mode I see hidden beneath his concern for Mia. I wish even more I could stand next to him and feel him at my side. But just as I wish for those things, Mr. Snow’s offer pops up like an annoying online ad.

  “Sure,” Dane tells Mia. “We can go get a burger. Sounds good to me.”

  “Will you come with us, Neely?”

  I want to say yes. I need to say no. All I can do is look at the adorable little girl with a sad streak in her eyes, and I can’t find the guts to answer either way.

  Dane does it for me. “She better go or we’ll kidnap her.”

  This puts a piece of the sparkle back on Mia’s face. That, in turn, trumps the best solution of starting to wean myself from them.