All Summer Long

“It’s not my head I’m worried about.”

She leaned in. For a second, he thought she was going to kiss him, but at the last second she changed direction and gave the tip of his c**k a quick swipe with her tongue.

He swore.

She sat back and smiled. “I’m feeling the power.”

“No surprise there.”

“I’m not sure what to do first.”

“You don’t have to do it all at once. I can promise you a repeat performance.”

Her eyebrows rose. “With me on top and in charge?”

“Yup.” As many times as she wanted, he thought as his body began to beg. “Don’t you get it? I want you, Charlie. Isn’t that clear?”

Her gaze slid to his erection. “There’s obvious evidence.”

“Then be a good girl and put both of us out of our misery. We can do it all again later.”

“Sort of like getting a to-go box at a restaurant?”

He gave a strangled laugh. “Sure.”

“I like that.”

This time she did bend over and kiss him. He gave in to the need and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against him.

Skin on skin felt exactly right, he thought as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She met him, stroking and circling, their lips moving against each other’s.

He moved his hands up and down her back. What he really wanted to do was flip her over and push into her. Again he reminded himself of the rules. That they would serve a purpose and that having Charlie riding him would be worth the wait, not to mention the pain of blood pumping with each heartbeat.

She drew back slightly. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s see how this is going to work.”

He reached for the condom and slipped it on. She knelt over him, slightly forward of his groin, and braced herself on her hands and knees. He settled his hands at her waist.

“You’re in control,” he reminded her, staring into her eyes. “You tell me what you want.”

She nodded, her expression both expectant and slightly apprehensive. He guided her back.

They both caught their breath when they connected. The very tip of him nestling against her warm, swollen heat. The need to push, to fill, to pump, screamed in his head. He held on to control with all that he had and waited.

Her blue eyes crinkled with good humor. “You’re a little tense.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Because you want to be inside?”

“I want to be a lot of things.”

She tilted her h*ps a little, drawing him in maybe an inch. Then she stopped. “How’s that?”

He stroked her cheek. “Do your worst. I’ll be fine.”

The amusement faded and something far more caring took its place. “I do trust you, Clay.”

“I know. You trust me enough to play. It’s a great compliment. It’s killing me, but it’s a great compliment.”

Her gaze locked with his, she reached for his hands and guided them to her breasts. He went willingly, wanting to feel the smooth, soft skin.

He cupped her in his palms, then used his fingers against her nipples. He rolled the tight tips, causing her eyes to sink closed and her breath to quicken. In one unstudied movement, she sank back, taking all of him inside.

He froze, not sure if she’d meant to do that, or if she’d scared herself. But this was Charlie. Her sensual nature might have been dormant, but it sure hadn’t been irrevocably damaged. She settled more firmly over him, sending him deeper. He felt her body tighten around him.

She shifted her weight a little, rocking forward so she could move back and forth easily. Her eyes opened and she stared at him.

“I’m ready,” she whispered and began to move.

He kept his hands on her breasts, as much because he liked touching her as to give himself a distraction. Because what was happening to the rest of his body was nearly irresistible.

She set up a steady, relentless rhythm, sliding back and forth, enclosing him in liquid heat. With each stroke, she sucked him in deeper, pushed him along further, until he knew he was seconds from losing it.

Alfalfa, he thought frantically, aware of her breath, of her whispering his name, of the building pressure at the base of his groin. There were different types. He needed to do more research on different kinds he could plant. The goats could help. Maybe pull a cart with Priscilla and alfalfa. He’d have to rent some kind of trailer to get them all there. He could find one on the inter—

She sat up, pulling him back into the moment. Her gaze still locked with his, she pushed up and down, frantic and frenzied as she got closer and closer. Her breath came in gasps, her br**sts bounced, her skin was flushed. She was as beautiful as a pagan goddess, all light and sensation.

His cl**ax threatened, but he held back, determined to make this as good for her as possible. He slid his right hand up her thigh, then reached his thumb between their bodies. When he found her swollen, wet clit, he rubbed it, pushing deep into her body, right to the root of it. He circled around it and on the second pass, she screamed.

She continued to move up and down, so fast she was nearly a blur. Her body shook and trembled. Deep inside, the shock waves began, squeezing him until he had no choice but to give in to her invitation. He pushed up with his hips, shoving into her even more and losing himself in the explosion of his release.

After what felt like a lifetime, she slowed. Her gaze refocused and she stared at him. The color on her cheeks deepened and he knew they had reached the critical moment of their relationship.

“Don’t,” he said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t you dare. Dammit, Charlie, that was incredible. You leave me weak. Never doubt that.”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m afraid I’m too much.”

He chuckled. “Right. Because every guy wants to walk around saying, ‘Yeah, I’m dating this girl. She’s not really enough for me in bed. I like that.’”

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“Do I look scared?”

“No, but...”

He kissed her. “No buts. Just promise me we can do that again. Soon.”

She nodded and swallowed. “Why do I want to cry? I never want to cry.”

“I could bullshit you into believing it’s about the sympathetic nervous system and emotional release, but the truth is, I’m so damned good-looking, you’re weeping with gratitude.”

She leaned back her head and started to laugh. He joined in, then he rolled her onto her side and started kissing again. In the shade of a nearby tree, the two horses looked at each other and sighed. Apparently they were going to be here for a while.

* * *

“THANK YOU for joining us, Mr. Stryker,” Mayor Marsha said from her place behind her impressive desk in her office at City Hall.

“Clay, please.”

“That’s what I want to be saying,” Gladys mumbled. The other woman sat in the chair next to his.

The mayor sighed. “If we could focus on the business at hand,” she said, then pointed at Gladys. “Nothing from you. Do you hear me?”

Gladys held up her hands. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

Clay winked at her, in too good a mood to take offense.

His afternoon with Charlie had been the stuff of legends. They’d stayed another hour, making use of the second condom. This time he’d participated more, but she’d still been in charge. It was a role she was born to, he thought happily. He couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

“Clay,” the mayor said. “We’ve asked you here today because the city council has been approached by several businesses in town. People have heard about your Haycation idea and they’re intrigued.”

She handed out folders. Clay flipped his open and saw a list of restaurants, stores and recreational facilities.

“There’s some interest in product placement, coupons and theme nights,” she continued. “For example, every Thursday there could be square dancing. An instructor would teach guests, but locals could also pay a small fee and attend. Two or three of the restaurants could cater the event. The craft store in town wants to offer quilting classes. The class would be free and anyone attending would get a ten-percent off coupon at the store. That kind of thing.”

“This works with what I’ve been planning,” he said. “I like it. The more we can offer our guests, the more they’ll enjoy themselves. I want repeat business and plenty of word-of-mouth. Fool’s Gold is a unique tourist destination.”

“Exactly.” The mayor smiled at him. “We can each grow our success.”

“I’d like to see—”

“Gladys,” the mayor warned.

“Sorry.”

“I wanted to check with you, Clay,” the mayor continued, “before setting up a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce and our Business Development Council. If you’re willing, I’ll send out an email and suggest a few dates.”

“That works for me.”

“If there’s anything we can do to help, let us know.”

He wondered if any of the old ladies could scare some sense into Nate and keep him away from the teenagers in town. So far his farm manager had been behaving. But Clay didn’t know if that was because of a change of heart or if Nate was simply being more careful.

“I’m good for now,” he said.

Mayor Marsha glared at Gladys, then stood. “Excellent. I’ll be in touch.”

He shook hands with her, waved at Gladys, then left. On his way to his truck, he held on to the folder. The businesses in town believed in him. There was no way he was going to let any of them down. Fool’s Gold was his home now. He wanted to be a part of things. His Haycations were going to be a success—no matter what it took.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHARLIE STOOD UNEASILY in her mother’s hotel suite. Her attempts to avoid Dominique had come to an end when her mother had left a message, saying she would be buying a sleeping bag and camping out in the fire station until Charlie agreed to speak to her. Or her daughter could show up at the hotel the next day and they could talk it out.

Charlie had chosen the conversation.

Now, looking at the woman who had given birth to her, she had to admit to a small amount of grudging respect for Dominique’s tactics. She would have assumed that in a test of wills, she would have been the winner. But her mother was also determined. Maybe a trait they shared.

Dominique perched on the edge of her suite’s living-room sofa and laced her fingers together.

“I want to apologize,” her mother began.

Charlie waited. With Dominique one could never take an opening statement at face value. The follow-up phrase could be anything from “for visiting in the first place” or “for thinking you deserved my attention.” She wasn’t going to assume.

Her mother swallowed, then looked at her. “I should have been more supportive when you were attacked back in college.” Her chin came up. “No. You weren’t attacked. That’s me avoiding ugliness. You were raped and I didn’t believe you.”

Tears filled her eyes and her mouth trembled. “I never thought...” She drew in a shaky breath. “I assumed...” She cleared her throat. “He seemed like such a nice boy. So handsome and charming. I met him in the campus police station. He introduced himself to me and said he was sorry you’d had second thoughts. But he wanted me to know he hadn’t hurt you or done anything you hadn’t wanted.”

Charlie felt her body tense. Anger grew into rage and she wanted to hunt down the shithead who’d attacked her so callously, then lied about it to everyone. She’d done everything right, she thought grimly. Reported the crime, subjected herself to the humiliation of the rape kit. But it hadn’t mattered. In the end, he’d been the one believed. Because rape was a “he said, she said” crime. And he was popular and handsome. A good student who’d never been in trouble. She was the awkward nobody.

“I was wrong,” Dominique told her quietly. “So very wrong. You’re my daughter and I should have been on your side, no matter what. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry.”

Charlie let the words wash over her. They were too little, too late, and she wasn’t completely sure she believed them, but even hearing them helped.

“Thank you.”

“No,” her mother said forcefully. “It’s not enough to be sorry. I see that now. Except I want us to be friends. Is that too much to ask? Is it too late? Have I lost you like Mayor Marsha lost her daughter? Are you going to move away and die so we never have a chance?”

Charlie had heard bits and pieces about the mayor’s past so she sort of had an idea about the tragedy in her family. “It’s a big leap from what we’re dealing with to my early demise.”

“I know, but if you’re dead, I’ll be all alone.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she should laugh or scream. “Because it’s all about you?”

“I’d miss you very much.”

“And you’d be alone.”

Tears filled Dominique’s eyes. “Yes. That, too.”

Her mother was who she had always been. She might make small changes and try to act differently, but in her heart she would be the prima ballerina she’d been in her youth. Known throughout the world, a woman to be envied. A star who had danced for queens and presidents and prime ministers.

Charlie knew she could dredge up a thousand horrible memories. Times when her mother had dismissed her or ignored her. She could remember Dominique telling Dan that sending their only child to boarding school wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But she also recalled men coming to the door and begging for a crumb of attention. Dominique always told them that her heart belonged to one man. And it always had.