Faster and faster.
Her soul soared until it seemed to splinter somewhere high above the rugged mountains. She let go. A cry of satiation sprang from her lungs and joined with his own orgasmic roar.
He pulled her tight, her breathing rapid against his wet, heaving shoulder. The arms surrounding her seemed a safe haven, a place she could close her eyes and let the worries of the world pass her by.
It was a false security, she knew that, but for a few minutes, as the stars appeared in the darkening heavens, she let herself believe in the gossamer fantasy with Beau Tate. . . .
*
Astride her bay gelding, Addie Donovan glanced at the lowering sun. The sky over the western hills was flaming a bright orange to brilliant pink, the forested peaks becoming silhouettes, and yet it was still warm, heat rising from the ground near this spring that cut through the pines.
Sweat beaded on her brow, and she felt it trickle between her breasts and cause her T-shirt to cling to her back.
The creek was too small, barely a trickle, so she couldn’t take a quick swim, but she climbed off Falconer and kicked off her cowboy boots to wiggle her toes in the clear water. Bridle rattling, Falconer snorted, shaking his head, his forelock falling over his blaze as he drank from the stream.
Was it her imagination, or did she hear voices over the sound of the water? Distant voices from somewhere upstream? She glanced longingly to the Crofts’ property, the adjoining acres that butted up to her parents’ place, and hoped she’d spy Dean, but of course that was impossible. He was away tonight, spending time at his cousin’s place.
A jab of loneliness cut through her.
Addie knew she should get back. If she didn’t return by nightfall, her parents would freak. But then they always freaked. Last year, when she’d just turned seventeen, her mother had caught her adding water to the vodka bottle to replace what she’d taken to a slumber party, and then they’d found cigarettes in her purse. Luckily, so far, they hadn’t discovered the weed she kept in a tiny plastic bag hidden in the barn. She was saving the marijuana, tucked in a bale of old straw that she used as a bench when she was caring for the horses, for this weekend when Elle, her best friend, would be staying the night. If they could sneak out without Mom catching them. Fortunately, Addie’s father snored so loudly Mom wouldn’t be able to hear them slip from the room.
She hoped. She crossed her fingers.
Her parents were just so out of it.
Didn’t they know she was almost a woman?
It was getting pretty obvious with the changes in her figure. She’d gone from a flat-chested tomboy to a teenager wearing a 36D bra. She already knew her shape was a blessing and a curse. A lot of the girls were jealous, and she got more than her share of attention from the boys, but sometimes she felt that her boobs had betrayed her. She’d wanted a killer figure, but . . . she really didn’t want to stand out this much.
Fortunately, Dean saw beyond her boobs. Oh, he liked them. A lot. But Dean Croft was better than the other boys. More mature. He loved her. For her. She was sure of it, and she dreamed about him day and night. They would be married. For sure. But first college, and getting engaged, and then a wedding that would rival the Dillingers’ nuptials that all the town was talking about.
It would be spectacular. Addie knew. She’d been clipping pictures out of bridal magazines for months and had paid attention to the dresses, especially the dresses. She couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle of the Pioneer Church and hear all the guests gasp at how beautiful she’d be. And Dean, he would cry when he first saw her. Either that or she’d turn around and come back in again on her father’s arm, just to insure Dean gave her the proper reaction.
Oh, how she loved him. More than any girl or woman had loved a man. She was sure of it. And Dean, he’d told her he loved her too, especially when he was feeling her up and caressing her breasts. Yeah, he liked them, and she never felt more in love than when he’d take one into his mouth and suckle it. Even now she thrilled at the thought of it and couldn’t wait until they could marry.
In four years.
Four long years.
The shadows were growing longer, and all of a sudden, she felt as if someone was watching her.
Had Mom followed her out here? Or Dad? Maybe even her little nerdy brother, Gil? It would be just like him and his friends, all of thirteen and major geeks who ogled her when they thought she wasn’t aware, then pretended they didn’t see her boobs. Pains in the butt, all of them.
Or maybe Dean was looking for her?
Her heart soared. When he found her, they would kiss and touch, and she’d let him explore all the feminine places in her body that she’d decided were just for him and him alone. Forever. Infinity. Eternity.
And yet, there was something not right about this. Something was off.
Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw no one, but the goose pimples running along the back of her arms warned her that she wasn’t alone.
From an upper branch of one of the pines, a crow let out a screech, and she actually jumped. Then again, she’d been a little nervous ever since she’d spied a few vultures up on the ridge and figured a wild animal was dying or dead.
Time to get going.
She wasn’t even supposed to be on this stretch of government land that ran along the back of her family’s property, but she knew of a place where the fence was down, and she liked riding through the trees, away from the feeling of being penned in. Away from Mom and Dad, and especially Gil.
She wished she was going away to a four-year university rather than living at home and commuting to the nearest community college, but there just wasn’t enough money to send her, and she didn’t want to take out loans. Most of all, she didn’t want to be away from Dean, and he was attending the same two-year school, so Addie was okay with putting up with Mom and Dad . . . but not Gil. He just bugged her so much.
But in four years when she was through school and she and Dean were married— Snap!
The crack of a breaking twig startled her, and she jumped.
With a snort, Falconer lifted her head and turned, her large eyes focused on a thicket of saplings.
Her gaze glued to the shadows, Addie grabbed her boots.
The looming shape of a man appeared from the gathering shadows.
Oh, shit! Her heart nearly stopped.
Not caring that her feet were muddy, she yanked on one boot and considered leaving the other.
“Hey. Didn’t mean to scare you,” the guy said, and she stared up at him, a handsome guy, but old. Maybe close to forty. He had the whole cowboy thing going, like everyone else in town, in jeans and a cowboy shirt, snakeskin boots, and a scraggly growth of stubble over a tanned jaw. He held his hands palms out as if he really didn’t mean to startle her.
“Well, you did.”
“Just out here looking for a couple of strays.”
“Strays?”