“Keep your eyes on the road, hockey player.”
“I can pull over if you want. Don’t we have an hour to spare?” He sends me a pleading look, the mere flash of his smile enough to make my pulse flare.
“We do,” I murmur then reach over and kiss down his neck, my fingers toying with the buttons on a dress shirt he grabbed at the airport. It’s pale blue and a little tight across the shoulders, and I wonder if I just pulled on that one button—
He turns off the main road, taking us down about a mile on a tiny gravel road. He throws the car in park, takes off his seat belt, cups my face, and lays one on me. Our lips cling and cling and his tongue is taking and sucking and wanting everything. My hands slide into his hair and pull on the strands as he groans.
In between kisses, he murmurs, “I want to fuck you in this car. Now. Can you please push that skirt up and get in my lap? I’m not sure how it will work, but I’m willing to see.”
“Do you have Super Dick?” I ask him with a little laugh, and he glances down at his tented jeans.
“Uh, yeah. He wants you. I want you.”
“How fast can we do this?” I’m asking as I check around us. It’s quiet out, a two-lane road, just forest and telephone lines.
“Fast, but you will come.” A squirrel darts out onto the gravel road we’re on, gives us a glare, and dashes off. “He’s the only one out here,” Z murmurs as his hand drifts under my hair. “Come on, Sugar Baby, get over here and ride me.”
I snort-laugh; I can’t help it. “Sugar Baby?” I shake my head. “You know what? I’ll take it. I kinda like it. It’s not babe, and you put my name in it.”
His lips dance across mine. “I know. You like everything I do.”
“Cocky, aren’t you?” My body leans into his as he fumbles over me and unlatches my seat belt. He throws back his seat as far as it will go and I pull my skirt up, crawl over the center console, and straddle him. It’s not easy with my heels on, and there are a few grunts and giggles before I get it right.
His hands are on my ass, pulling me against his jeans, and I murmur his name as we kiss. His hard length rubs against my panties, and I run my hands over his shoulders, through his hair, and back to his chest. He’s mine, all mine, and I never want this feeling to go away. I’ll follow him to the ends of the earth. If he goes through darkness, I’ll go with him and bring him back out every time. I tell him and he kisses me.
Rising up, I give him room to unbutton his jeans, and I laugh as he struggles to push them down a bit, just enough for his cock to pop out. I wrap my hands around him and stroke, rolling my fingers over his blunt head.
“Need you so bad,” he says. His fingers move my underwear to the side, and he gives me one, easing in and back out. “So hot. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think and later when we find a hotel room, I’m going to do wicked things to you…”
He positions his length and eases in my entrance, barely there and then sliding back out. He strokes in again, going deep, and we groan. His pace picks up, his hands under my skirt and on my hips to hold me steady, and I lean back, arching to give him room.
I ride him and we gaze at each other, eating each other up. My fingers touch my skin, moving across my breasts to my stomach until I’m at my core, my hand brushing against him as he slides in and out.
“Sugar Baby, fuck,” he says, staring at me, his hips pumping faster, his hands digging into my hips.
His eyes gleam with heat when I touch myself, massaging my clit as I fall over the edge, my body pulsating around him. He calls out my name and tumbles over with me, his arms wrapping around me, clutching me tight as if he’ll never let me go.
“We need to go,” I say several minutes later as I still lie against him, my head buried in his neck. He’s stroking my hair, twirling it around his fingers. I know he’s probably uncomfortable with me on top of him, but he hasn’t said a word.
He tilts my jaw up with care, his fingers trailing over my cheek and to my neck. There’s a light in his eyes, and I can’t describe the feeling of true elation it gives me. His throat moves, emotion shining in his gaze as he searches my face. “I…I love you so much.”
We kiss and I tell him how much I love him.
“This might be the best day ever,” he says softly as I slide off him, adjust my underwear and skirt, and crawl back over to my side.
“Better than winning that game?”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “Sugar Baby, you’re the best game I’ve ever played.”
Later, using Google Maps, we pull into the long drive that leads to the Mitchell estate. He parks the car in front of the huge white two-story mansion, which looks straight out of Gone with the Wind.
He gets out then comes around to my side of the car and helps me down.
My feet hit the ground and he tucks my hand in the crook of his arm. We walk up the porch steps to the group of people waiting for us.
“I’m Barbara Mitchell,” says the lady in a prim black suit and pearls who greets me without even an introduction from Mr. Winchester. She’s just as tall and hawkish as I recall, a woman who’s known grief and heartache. It’s apparent in the bend of her shoulders, in the unsteady set of her mouth, the way her eyes study me and then blink, looking away. “I’m glad you came.”
I murmur a reply. It’s not a huge welcome, but then what would she say? How must she be feeling, knowing that I’m the product of an affair her husband carried out for years?
I wonder what she thinks of me—and then I stop.
What they believe is unimportant. I know who I am, and my self-worth isn’t defined by an approval rating. She doesn’t know my journey or what it’s taken to get me back here.
Two adults step forward, twins about the same age as me, a young woman and man, both raven-haired and beautiful with an air of sophistication to their demeanor. The man is tall and slim, his clothes expensive. There’s a tentative smile on his face as he takes my hand. “Name’s Beau.” His eyes are the exact color of mine…and kind. It’s hard to take in all at once. I suck in a little internal breath. He’s my half-brother. Part of my blood is his.
“I’m Bianca.” The slender girl next to him gives me a once-over and gives Z a long look. I expect a hint of jealousy because Z is Z, but there’s zilch there but deep curiosity.
I nod.
Mr. Winchester says. “We’ll get started now.”
And we do.
I walk inside a house that, as a young girl, I dreamed of burning down.
And it’s a big step.
I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say as this day goes on, but I decided to take the money my father left me. Mr. Winchester is insistent that I do, that it was my father’s last dying wish. I’m going to accept it and try not to be bitter about how he treated Mama. I guess this is his way of making up for the past. Perhaps knowing he had cancer changed him. I don’t know, but maybe these three people do.
What I do know is I’ve come full circle. I’m embracing courage and I won’t be afraid of falling anymore—with anything. I’m here to discover more about them and maybe focus on being wise, judging less, and being kind. After all, I don’t know their journey and the weight it must have been to know I was out there in the world, part of them yet not.