Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“I give you what you need, do I?”
"Yes,” she whispered, twisting a blond curl around her finger. “You make me happy.”
Lights out. No matter where the fantasies started, he knew only precious seconds were left when she said those words. You make me happy. His harsh inhales and exhales filling the bathroom, he mentally stooped down, lifted her naked body against the side of the truck, and entered her with a grunt, watching her face transform with total euphoria—this was his dream, after all—her pussy pulsing, gripping him nice and tight. Slippery. Heaven. “Such a good girl. So fucking wet,” he praised in her ear, because even the imaginary version of this woman deserved worship, especially when he was driving into her so hard, the encroaching orgasm putting him on that desperate edge. “If this was real life, sweetheart, I’d take better care of you than this.”
“I know,” she gasped, her curls and tits and necklaces shaking, moving with her, part of her. “But it’s a dream, so be as rough as you want.”
“As if I could help it when you make me feel like I’m going to fucking die at any second. Unless I’m inside you. Unless I’m as close as possible to that smile, that voice, your . . . sunlight.”
Julian choked on that truth into the crook of his elbow, stroking fast enough to break the sound barrier, picturing Hallie’s legs around his hips, her head thrown back in a throaty call of his name, her pussy cinching up with an orgasm, their mouths latched together while he joined her with a final ram of his hips, impaling her maddening body to the truck.
“I’d make you come just like this. Hard and wild. That’s not a fucking dream, do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she said on a shaky rush of breath, still trembling against him, even while she blinked up at him with a sweep of eyelashes. “Just like I’m making you come right now.”
A sizzle in his loins was followed by a trap door opening, all of the pressure and sexual frustration escaping. He dug his teeth into the muscle of his forearm, the tension that had been coiling leaving him in sharp waves while he still thought of her. Those eyes and breasts and filthy knees.
Julian couldn’t stop thinking of her when it was over, either—and he was beginning to wonder if a moment’s peace from the captivating gardener was nothing more than wishful thinking.
* * *
That evening, Hallie walked into her house and stopped just inside the door, seeing the mess through fresh eyes. It hadn’t always been like this. Not when Rebecca was alive. Not even immediately following her death. Sure, Hallie’s heartbeat naturally spelled out the word “clutter” in Morse code, but the disorganization was nearly a hazard now. Precarious stacks of mail and paperwork. Laundry that would never see the inside of her dresser. Dog paraphernalia galore.
Her mind was still stuck in the vineyard with Julian, replaying their conversation over and over.
I’m kind of self-destructive, aren’t I?
I think maybe I’ve been intentionally getting myself into messes . . .
So I don’t have to slow down and think about . . .
Anything, really. Wasn’t that the truth? As long as the whirlwind of trouble continued to spin, she wouldn’t have to figure out how to move forward. And as who? As Hallie, the dutiful granddaughter? As one of the many personalities crafted by her mother? Or was she a version of herself she hadn’t truly gotten to know yet?
Only one thing was for certain. When she was talking to Julian in the vineyard, she didn’t feel as alone. In fact, everything inside of her had quieted and she’d seen the source of her problem, even if she had no earthly clue how to solve it. The strict control Julian kept on himself had grounded her, too, in those stolen moments . . . and she wanted more of them.
It took Hallie a good fifteen minutes to find the notebook she’d purchased in the stationery shop, thanks to the General partially burying it in the backyard. And another ten minutes to locate a pen that wasn’t out of ink. She started off writing a to-do list, but stalled out almost immediately after writing Clean Out Refrigerator and Cancel Subscriptions for Phone Apps You Are No Longer Using. What she really wanted was to be back in the vineyard, talking to Julian. There was something about his directness, the intent way he listened, and his own willingness to admit his flaws, that made it so easy to dig into her own. To see them clearly.
After today, she was pretty sure Julian was attracted to her. They could talk about personal things like they’d been having heart-to-hearts their entire lives. But she’d been living with her feelings for Julian so long, it was almost hard to be around him knowing his couldn’t measure up. It was so impossible, she’d actually suggested they be friends only, just to avoid that potentially painful speech from him.